aming like two balls of living fire,
and his whole frame agitated, and as if it were dilating with the
internal workings of his wild visionary spirit. Macpherson shook and
shrunk in his presence.

"They come! they come!" exclaimed the seer--"the wild, the dreadful, the
undefinable, the unutterable, the shadowy forms and seemings of things
and actions to be! They crowd upon me in powers and numbers unendurable,
inconceivable! Words never formed by human breath sound within my heart,
and tell of things that mortal tongue may never utter. Eyes, clear,
cold, dead, bright, and chill as winter moonshine, look into my soul,
and fill it with all their lucid meanings! Oh, scene of blood and woe!
when wilt thou end? Thou bright-haired angel, must the doom be thine!
Fair lady of the stately brow! oh! let me see no more!" His lips
quivered, but he uttered not another word. He remained fixed, rigid,
statue-like, as if chilled into stone, bereft of life and motion, by the
terrible vision. At length his extended arm dropped by his side; and,
heaving a long, shuddering sigh, he leaned his drooping frame upon his
rod, trembling and exhausted.

After a considerable pause, Macpherson ventured to address him, with the
intention of inquiring into the nature of his vision. "Speak not to me,
Ewan Macpherson," said he. "Seek not to know the fate thou wilt and must
know all too soon. Thy path through life has been blood-stained and
devious. No warnings may now avail thee. But that lady--might she be
rescued from misery and horror! Chief! if the safety and happiness of
thy father's daughter be dear to thee, bid her assume the spirit of her
race, and come alone to Coir-nan-Taischatrin. Tell her that Moran of the
Wild has that to reveal to her which concerns her, and thee, too,
deeply. And mark me, Chief! unless thou ceasest to pursue the feuds of
thy fathers, thy course will be brief, and bloody will be its close."
Thus saying, he turned and feebly dragged his spent and tottering form
into the dark and awe-inspiring cave.

Stunned and bewildered, incapable of thought or reflection, and
staggering like one who walks in his sleep, Macpherson wandered back
towards Castle Feracht. With a strange expression of vague astonishment
and hesitation he gazed upon his sister. At length he found words:
"Elizabeth Macpherson, if the honour of thy name, if thy own safety
and happiness can move thee; if thy brother's life--but that is a
trifle--assume the spi