History of the Clan MacLean from its first settlement at Duard Castle, in the Isle of Mull, to the present period

436
Appendix.
His hatred wilder, fiercer rose,
To marl< her 'mid his deadly foes.
Ere slid the galley on the sand,
Hector beheld the threatening band,
Then lowered his stiil, and seized the oar,
And slowly neared the dreaded shore.
One word of love he gave the maid,
Whose gestures all their vengeance stayed;
One look of hope beamed in her eye,
Which seemed to say "I all defy!"
Impatient now his child to free,
The chieftain rushed into the sea:
Before the keel had touched the sand.
He grasped again his daughter's hand.
Then in his frenzied, powerful arm,
He bore ashore her lovely form.
Hector he saw, and darkly flung
A scowl of hate from vengeance wrung.
Bold, standing with an oar in hand.
Before MacDougall's gathering band.
He forced th' unwilling boat astern,
And sadly could the maid discern
Amid the throng of clansmen, wild
With joy at finding thus their child.
Remembering their hateful foe
They ceased their cries, and from each bow
Discharged a shower of darts which fell
Harmless into the ocean's swell.
Jt^ar o'er the sea on southern tack,
Hector with wistful eye looked back,
A ceaseless longing o'er him stole,
A darkness settled on his soul.
The brightness of the morn had fled,
And left him gloomy fears, instead.
The duwn-rise of Love's cheering ray
Had vanished all to soon away.
The golden charm of hope's bright goal
Seemed fading from his saddened soul,
And as he neared his native shore
One burning wish alone it bore.
MacLean received with joy his.son,
As if a victory he had won ;
But Hector's heart was far away,
His Duard's charms seemed to decay-
Unrest's remorseless, cruel ban,
Had made him now an altered man.
He sought the shores in darkest night,
And ne'er returned till morning's light.
They watched, but none the paths could name,
Or how he went, or whence he came.
Ah! in his skifli" he stole away
Across the Sound to Oban's bay.
Where, by King Fingal's rugged stone,
MacDougall's maid be met alone —
Renewed their vows, re-pledged their faith.
And kissed unswerving love till death.
Not all a daughter's love assuaged the hate
Which in MacDougall's bosom burned elate,
Not all her soft expostulations sweet
Could the dread demon of revenge defeat;
Unmoved, (and coldly calm he heard her
prayer.
For well he knew that Hector was her care.
His trusty warder oft in midnight hour
Saw two mysterious forms beneath the tower.
And oft of late had heard the sound of oars
Receding in darkness from the shores.
To crush her love, to overcome his foe.
His clansmen nightly watched the beach be-
low;
And when they heard her Hector's parting
song,*
They swiftly stole by secret paths along.
And rushed upon the youth, whose ready
blade
Gleamed but an instant, and their onslaught
stayed —
With sudden swoop, and straight-delivered
thrust,
Three warriors fell before him in the dust.
His light steel shield with cunning motion
flashed,
And on its front their blows descending
crashed.
Forward! and forward still they pressed com-
bined,
Struck but one blow, and, wounded, reeled
behind;
On every hand his sword appeared to see
Their covert cuts of dark ferocity,
And instantly his ready guard essayed
To foil each stroke that fell and notched his
blade.
Around him lay, in groaning, helpless rows.
The prostrate forms of his remorseless foes;
Some glared revenge; some cursed with dying
breath;
Some strove to strike him in the throes of
death ;
Some drew their dirks in anguish of despair,
Upraised their arms, and, dying, struck the air ;
Some tore, in agony, while life remained,
The clotted grass their own life-blood had
stained.
* See First Canto.