Wyseby

OP THE FIRST IR.VINGS. 123
6moke arose to the evening sky. A few days, and,
save the blackness of the fire-path, and the still con-
tinued effort round some fast-ascending castle, all
looked even as heretofore.
The castle of Wyseby, from its situation and its
proximity to the camp of the Borderers, had escaped
uninjured. Its halls are again thronged with do-
mestics, and the aged of the clan ; and in its eastern
turret as of old, looking out upon the lone and lovely
river leaping onward in its never-ending journey,
Catharine sat. It is the evening of the second day
after her arrival at Lochmaben. Her eyes rested
on the river, but her thoughts were busy elsewhere.
The drear mountain cavern, — the low scream she
had heard on her entrance, — the invisible form that
glided past her, — and the saying of Esecal, that one
young and pure as she, had been for months the
tenant of that cavern ; — on these things her thoughts
dwelt. A slight rustling aroused her from her re-
verie. She raised her eyes. " Maria," she said,
addressing a girl who stood by her side, "what
wouldest thou ?"
" A stranger lady craves brief audience," said the
maiden.
" A stranger lady ! " said Catharine thoughtfully.
She paused, as if uncertain how to act. At length
6he said firmly, " Admit her."
With a firm, proud step the stranger maiden
entered ; but she paused ere she had well crossed
the threshhold. Whatever doubts Catharine enter-
tained as to the character of her visitor, they vanish-
ed as her eye fell on the pale, pale brow, and wan
cheek, and bright, troubled eye, of the being who
now stood before her. " Maiden, be seated," said