t have crossed so often, and by
which a personage more familiar, Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck, once, as we all
know, made his way to the North; but these are modern reflections such
as have nothing to do with that primitive morning, fresh no doubt as
to-day with sun and dew, when Malcolm's messengers came hurrying down to
see what were these intruders, and what their purpose, and whether
anything was to be apprehended from a visit apparently so unusual. The
eager and curious emissaries had apparently no warrant to board the
strangers, but gazed and wondered at the big ship and all its
equipments, so unlike their own rude galleys; then hastened back again
with an excited and exciting description of the greatness of the
passengers on board and all their splendid array. Malcolm, cautious yet
excited too, sent forth, as we are told in the _Scotichronicon_, "his
wisest councillors" to make further inquiries. They too were astonished
by the splendour of all they saw, and especially by the mien of a
certain lady among these strangers, "whom, by her incomparable beauty,
and the pleasantness of her jocund speech, I imagined to be the chief of
the family," said the spokesman; "nor was it wonderful," adds the
chronicler, "that they should believe her to be the chief who was
destined to be Queen of Scotland and also heir of England." Perhaps it
was the after light of these events that conveyed that high appreciation
of Margaret's qualities into the story, for she must have been quite
young, and it is very unlikely that in presence of her mother, and the
brother whom they all considered as the King of England, a young girl,
however gifted, would have taken upon her the chief place.

[Illustration: PILLAR IN NAVE, DUNFERMLINE ABBEY]

The report he received, however, had so much effect upon King Malcolm
that he went himself to visit the strangers in their ship. He was not a
mere barbaric prince, to be dazzled by the sight of these great persons,
but no doubt had many a lingering recollection in his mind of Siward's
great house in Northumberland, where he had taken refuge after his
father's murder. It is curious and bewildering to go back in that dawn
of national life to familiar Shaksperian regions, and to think that this
primitive King who had so much in him of the savage, along with all his
love and gentleness, was the son of that gracious Duncan who addressed
his hostess like a kingly gentleman though her hospitality was to be so
fatal. K