his noble son of chivalry darkened as, sitting motionless
on his tall steed, his gaze rested on the noble woman whom it had
originally been his painful charge to deliver over to his sovereign. He
had not dreamed of a vengeance such as this. He could not have believed
a change so dark as this had fallen on the character of a sovereign whom
he still loved, still sought to admire and revere, and his spirit sunk
'neath the sorrow this conviction caused. Almost involuntarily, as the
procession slowly proceeded, and the countess passed within three paces
of his horse's head, he bent his lordly brow in silent homage; she saw
it and returned it, more effected by the unfeigned commiseration on that
warrior's face, than at aught which had occurred to shame and humble her
that morning.

A brief pause took place in the movements of the officers and their
prisoners, when they reached the great hall of the castle. For a brief
minute Lady Seaton and the Countess of Buchan had met, had clasped
hands, in sad, yet eager greeting. "My child, mine Agnes?" had been by
the latter hurriedly whispered, and the answer, "Safe, I trust, safe,"
just permitted to reach her ear, when roughly and fiercely the Earl of
Berwick summoned the Lady of Buchan to proceed to the chamber appointed
for her use. Those simple words had, however, removed a load of anxiety
from her mind, for they appeared to confirm what she had sometimes
permitted herself to hope, that Agnes had shared King Robert's exile,
under the care of Lady Campbell; prevailed on to do so, perchance, by
the entreaties of Nigel, who in all probability had deemed that course,
though one of hardship, less perilous than remaining with him. She hoped
indeed against her better judgment, for though she knew not the depth,
the might of her daughter's feelings, she knew it must have been a
terrible trial so to part, and she absolutely shuddered when she thought
of the whelming blow it would be to that young heart when the fate of
her betrothed was ascertained.

Lady Seaton had spoken as she believed. No communication had been
permitted between the prisoners on their way to England; indeed, from
Sir Christopher's wounded and exhausted state, he had travelled more
leisurely in a litter, always in the rear of the earl's detachment, and
occupied by her close attendance upon him, his wife had scarcely been
aware of the young page ever in attendance on her brother, or deemed
him, if she did observe him, a