proceeded fearfully on. The soul of the Thane was appalled; the wind rose to a tremendous height; the thunder rolled over his head, and the blue lightning flashed in his face--terror-struck, he resolved to give up his design of visiting the Sisters; but he had lost the path which led back to the castle, and he wandered he knew not whither. Now and then he beheld a faint light, which he hoped proceeded from the cave of some anchorite, where he could obtain shelter.
He soon came to a rock, in the hollow of which was a door partly open, whence issued a pale gleam of light. The door flew back at his touch, and he entered a misty cavern; the light increased to a supernatural brightness, and in a few moments the Weird Sisters appeared, and saluted him with a discordant voice.
'Hail! We know what brought thee here.
Wicked chieftain, shake with fear,
The assassin shuns his downy head
Can he shun the restless dead?
No, while in the forest drear,
Roderic, rise, and meet him here!
And the wounds he gave display.
Remorse be his by night and day.'
The mysterious Sisters then severally requested what he sought to know. 'Ask!'--'Require!'--'Demand!'--exclaimed the Weird Beings.
Muchardus inquired if he should perish by an avenging sword.
The first Sister replied, 'that no human power should harm Muchardus.'
He then demanded who was next to enjoy the domains of Dungivan.
The second Sister answered, 'that the lawful heir of the murdered Roderic, and his bride, Lady Catharine, the peerless rose of the Clyde, would succeed him.'
Muchardus's heart appeared to die within him at these words; and it was not till the third Sister again repeated the question, of what he sought to know, that he recovered sufficiently to ask how many years of his existence still remained.
The bearded sister would not give an explicit answer to this important question; but remarked to him, that he had once seen the apparition of the murdered Roderic.
Muchardus, while his frame trembled with horror at the recollection of the appalling scene he had witnessed in one of the galleries of the castle, faintly replied in the affirmative.
'Mark me then,' said the witch; 'you will not survive the third appearance of the dreadful spectre.'
The sisters then vanished from his view and Muchardus, affrighted at the gloom (for the witches had left him in total darkness), was going to quit the cave with precipitation, when the murdered Roderic stood before him, and intercepted his progress.
Muchardus gazed on the hairy form with the greatest agony, till a chilling sweat bedewed his forehead; his limbs failed him, and he fell senseless on the floor of the cave.
In this situation he was found by Sandy, who alarmed by the Thane's long absence, ventured from his leafy shelter, as soon as the storm had abated, to seek him in which charitable design he succeeded with some difficulty, and was much terrified with meeting the Weird Sisters in his path, who maliciously diverted themselves with exciting his fears, and then suffered him to proceed.
He found his master just recovering from a death-like swoon. He assisted him to rise; and Muchardus, having glanced his eye around, and, to his great relief, perceiving no spectre, exerted himself to leave the horrid cave; and was led by Sandy to the Castle, where he retired to his splendid couch the most miserable of human beings.
Donald, since the death of Allan, his supposed parent, had remained in his cottage, as he had not yet met with the opportunity he coveted of embracing a military life.
In his solitary walks about the mountains, he frequently met Lady Catharine, and her attendant, Moggy Cameron. A fervent passion for the noble fair one took possession of his bosom; and he reasoned with himself in vain against its increasing influence; for Love, that leveller of rank, was constantly inspiring him with hope.
Lady Catharine was not insensible to the attentions of Donald; and she often breathed forth a secret prayer that he had been of equal birth with herself.
Near five weeks had elapsed since their first casual meeting, when one morning the Lady Catharine being with some of her attendants on the Clyde, in a small sailing-boat, a sudden gust of wind upset it; and the fair lady was precipitated into the water, Donald, who had been walking on the banks for some time, and surveying the lovely Catharine with delight, as the vessel slowly glided along, immediately saw her danger, and plunged into the stream to snatch her from impending death. He happily succeeded in bearing his lovely burthen safe to the shore, and led her till they arrived at the castle gates, where he abruptly left her, ere she could express her thanks for the service he had rendered so opportunely.
From this auspicious day, gratitude, united to love, created for Donald a strong interest
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