Wyseby

10
WYSEBY : A LKGEND
lovely in its loneliness, with these precipitous, rugged,
hazel-crowned cliffs, like antique giants melted by
sweet melody, in their gaunt strength towering aloft,
their sides wrapt in night, their summits wreathed
in sunbeams. By the sceptre of the Bruce, earth
has no lovelier spot than this ! Cheer thee, my sister.
Learn, 'mid the beauty of nature, to be glad of heart."
" Yes, brother,'' said the maiden, with a melan-
choly smile, "lovely is the face of nature here — all
lovely ; but the heart rests not on that ; outward
nature may please the eye, nay, elevate the senti-
ments : but the affections — ah, it reaches not them.
Nature, stern or lovely, cannot banish the memories
of old friendships, or restore the glad-hearted hours
of bygone days."
" We should forget those," said the chief hastily,
" who desert and forget us. Thou art sad, because
our foster-brother, Ranolph, is gone. Forget him,
sister ; he is unworthy of our grief. Our brave fa-
ther, at the hazard of his own life, snatched him — a
babe — from the blazing pile, 'mid which his sire, his
mother, brothers, and sisters, perished. Our father's
hall was his home, — our sainted mother was his
nurse, — we were his companions. In riper years,
when our sire had fallen, and our mother departed,
thou wert ever by his side in peace, I was ever by
his side in war — and in war he was terrible : yet,
forgetful of all this — without a wrong to plead as
an excuse — he has deserted us, deserted the standard
of his king, and is even now, according to the testi-
mony of Sir Esecal, in the camp of Edward."
" Trust not that man, my brother. I like not his
lowering brows — his unsteady eye — his shadowy,
oft-recurring, fitful smiles — his bland courtesies.