approach the castle by walking
on their hands and knees, with long black cloaks thrown over their
bodies, and their ladders and weapons concealed under their cloaks.
The men thus presented very nearly the appearance of a herd of cattle
in the deep shadows, and completely deceived the sentinel, who was
probably thinking more of the music and dancing below than of the
watchful enemy who had been haunting the gloomy woods of Jedburgh.

"The Black Douglas, or 'Good James, Lord Douglas,' as he was called by
the Scots, fought, as I have already said, with King Robert Bruce at
Bannockburn. One lovely June day, in the far-gone year of 1329, King
Robert lay dying. He called Douglas to his bedside, and told him that
it had been one of the dearest wishes of his heart to go to the Holy
Land and recover Jerusalem from the Infidels; but since he could not
go, he wished him to embalm his heart after his death, and carry it to
the Holy City and deposit it in the Holy Sepulchre.

"Douglas had the heart of Bruce embalmed and inclosed in a silver
case, and wore it on a silver chain about his neck. He set out for
Jerusalem, but resolved first to visit Spain and engage in the war
waged against the Moorish King of Grenada. He fell in Andalusia, in
battle. Just before his death, he threw the silver casket into the
thickest of the fight, exclaiming, 'Heart of Bruce! I follow thee or
die!'

"His dead body was found beside the casket, and the heart of Bruce was
brought back to Scotland and deposited in the ivy-clad Abbey of
Melrose.

"Douglas was a real hero, and few things more engaging than his
exploits were ever told under the holly and mistletoe, or in the warm
Christmas light of the old Scottish Yule-logs.

"What has interested you most in Scotland?" said Master Lewis to
George Howe, continuing the subject.

"I am hardly interested in antiquities at all," said George, frankly.
"I try to be, but it is not in me. A living factory is more to my
taste than a dead museum. The most interesting things I have seen are
the great Glasgow factories. As for stories, I have been thinking of
one that has more force for me than all the legends I ever read."

"We shall be glad to hear you tell it," said Master Lewis. "My
business is teaching, and it is my duty to stimulate a love of
literature. But I have all respect for a boy with mechanical taste;
no lives promise greater usefulness. We will listen to George's
story."

"It is not a romantic st