The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne | Page 7

signal of their
approach.
The fortitude of Matilda fainted under the pressure of so heavy a
calamity; she was attacked with a violent illness, which had nearly
terminated her sorrows and her life; and had rendered unavailing all the
tender cares of her daughter. These tender cares, however, were not
ineffectual; she revived, and they assisted to support her in the severe
hours of affliction, which the unknown fate of the Earl occasioned.
Mary, who felt all the horrors of the late event, was ill qualified for the
office of a comforter; but her generous heart, susceptible of the deep
sufferings of Matilda, almost forgot its own distress in the
remembrance of her mother's. Yet the idea of her brother, surrounded
with the horrors of imprisonment and death, would often obtrude itself
on her imagination, with an emphasis which almost overcame her
reason. She had also a strong degree of pity for the fate of the brave
young Highlander who had assisted, with a disinterestedness so noble,
in the cause of her house; she wished to learn his further destiny, and
her heart often melted in compassion at the picture which her fancy
drew of his sufferings.

CHAPTER III
THE Earl, after being loaded with fetters, was conducted to the chief
prison of the castle, and left alone to the bitter reflections of defeat and

uncertain destiny; but misfortune, though it might shake, could not
overcome his firmness; and hope had not yet entirely forsaken him. It is
the peculiar attribute of great minds, to bear up with increasing force
against the shock of misfortune; with them the nerves of resistance
strengthen with attack; and they may be said to subdue adversity with
her own weapons.
Reflection, at length, afforded him time to examine his prison: it was a
square room, which formed the summit of a tower built on the east side
of the castle, round which the bleak winds howled mournfully; the
inside of the apartment was old and falling to decay: a small mattrass,
which lay in one corner of the room, a broken matted chair, and a
tottering table, composed its furniture; two small and strongly grated
windows, which admitted a sufficient degree of light and air, afforded
him on one side a view into an inner court, and on the other a dreary
prospect of the wild and barren Highlands.
Alleyn was conveyed through dark and winding passages to a distant
part of the castle, where at length a small door, barred with iron,
opened, and disclosed to him an abode, whence light and hope were
equally excluded. He shuddered as he entered, and the door was closed
upon him.
The mind of the Baron, in the mean time, was agitated with all the
direful passions of hate, revenge, and exulting pride. He racked
imagination for the invention of tortures equal to the force of his
feelings; and he at length discovered that the sufferings of suspense are
superior to those of the most terrible evils, when once ascertained, of
which the contemplation gradually affords to strong minds the means
of endurance. He determined, therefore, that the Earl should remain
confined in the tower, ignorant of his future destiny; and in the mean
while should be allowed food only sufficient to keep him sensible of
his wretchedness.
Osbert was immersed in thought, when he heard the door of his prison
unbarred, and the Baron Malcolm stood before him. The heart of
Osbert swelled high with indignation, and defiance flashed in his eyes.
"I am come," said the insulting victor, "to welcome the Earl of Athlin

to my castle; and to shew that I can receive my friends with the
hospitality they deserve; but I am yet undetermined what kind of
festival I shall bestow on his arrival."
"Weak tyrant," returned Osbert, his countenance impressed with the
firm dignity of virtue, "to insult the vanquished, is congenial with the
cruel meanness of the murderer; nor do I expect, that the man who slew
the father, will spare the son; but know, that son is nerved against your
wrath, and welcomes all that your fears or your cruelty can impose."
"Rash youth," replied the Baron; "your words are air; they fade from
sense, and soon your boasted strength shall sink beneath my power. I
go to meditate your destiny." With these words he quitted the prison,
enraged at the unbending virtue of the Earl.
The sight of the Baron, roused in the soul of Osbert all those opposite
emotions of furious indignation and tender pity which the glowing
image of his father could excite, and produced a moment of perfect
misery. The dreadful energy of these sensations exasperated his brain
almost to madness; the cool fortitude in which he had so lately gloried,
disappeared; and he was on