of
their king.

A pause of horror followed his narrative, told more forcibly and briefly
by the lips of Douglas than through the cooler medium of the historian's
pen. Stunned, overwhelmed, as if incapable of movement or speech, though
sense remained, Agnes stood insensible, even to the voice of Nigel,
whose soothing accents strove to whisper peace; but when Douglas placed
in her cold hand the raven curls she knew so well, when tenderly yet
earnestly he repeated her mother's words, the poor girl repeatedly
pressed the hair to her parched lips, and laid it in her bosom; and then
perceiving the sad and anxious face of her beloved, she passed her hand
hurriedly over her brow, and burying her head on his breast, sense was
preserved by an agony of tears.

It was long, long ere this aggravated wretchedness was calmed, though
the love of many, the devotion of one were ever round her to strengthen
and console. Sympathy, the most heartfelt, reigned in every bosom. Of
the many misfortunes which had befallen this patriot band, this seemed,
if not really the severest, more fraught with horror than any which had
come before; the youth, the gallant bearing, the endearing qualities of
the heir of Buchan stood forth with vivid clearness in the memories of
all, and there were times when they felt it could not be, it was too
fearful; and then again, the too certain evidence of the fact, witnessed
as it had been by one of such tried truth as James of Douglas, brought
conviction too clearly home, and the sternest warrior, who would have
faced his own captivity and death unmoved, felt no shame in the dimness
which gathered in his eye for the fearful fate of the murdered boy.

In King Robert's breast these emotions obtained yet more powerful
dominion; again did remorse distract him, and there were moments of
darkness, when his spirit questioned the justice of the Creator. Why was
not his crime visited on his own head? Why did the guiltless and
unstained fall thus around him, and he remain unharmed? and it needed
all the eloquence of Nigel, the pious reasonings of the Abbot of Scone,
to convince him that, dark and inscrutable as the decrees of Omnipotence
sometimes seemed, in his case they were as clear as the wisdom from
which they sprung. By chastisement he was purified; he was not yet fit
to receive the reward of the righteous waiting on death. Destined to be
the savior of his unhappy country, the remorse which bowed down his
naturally h