CHAPTER VII.

And she had made a pipe of straw,
And from that oaten pipe could draw
All sounds of winds and floods;
Had built a bower upon the green,
As if she from her birth had been
An infant of the woods.

WORDSWORTH.

THE sun was sinking behind the everlasting woods, when Lord Dalveen and Wulik, alighting from their wearied horses, stood on the summit of a long range of lofty hills, and looked down upon an immense vale spread out in cultivated and pastoral beauty at their feet. They looked in silence; for the secluded loveliness of the land, girdled round by a range of high woody hills, filled with flocks and herds, studded with cottages, with a fine lake shining like a diamond on its bosom, and a kirk and spire glittering in the descending sun, demanded a few moments' undisturbed contemplation. Flocks of sheep left their pastures, and sought the security of fold and pen; herds of milch-cows

trudged slowly homewards, their well-filled udders touching the flowers, and bedropping them with their liquid treasure, too abundant to be long contained; while, with his rifle and his faithful wolfdog, the wary settler placed himself as a sentinel against beast and savage, till the return of morning light.

"See now," said Wulik, "how beautiful that land is, and with what good care it is guarded! Neither man nor wolf may hope to enter there during the cloud of night without permission from its people. Let us therefore seek a shady tree, kindle a little fire to drive away reptiles and insects, and watch and sleep by turns till the rising of the sun. Then may you seek in greater safety the presence of this lady-ruler who has won your heart so wholly."—" Friend Wulik,” replied Dalknow little of woman, "I shall go now; you else you would know that night is dearer to them than day, and that the lover who presses to their presence in darkness and danger is ever the most welcome."

veen,

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"Know little of woman!" answered the warrior with a sigh, you know little of Wulik. The Ohio, and the broad lonely stream which we passed, ring with songs which I made in honour of my love. All night have I couched amid the flowers of the desert, that I might behold the light of her chamberwindow, and all day have I lurked at a distance in the woods, that I might see her coming forth in her

loveliness amongst the flowers of the wilderness. The bloom on which her white foot trod have I reverenced, and the gourd out of which her ripe lips drank honey and dew have I kept and counted holy. In my bridal week, a fire came from my enemies, and consumed my love and my dwell_ ing, and never woman shall Wulik love more. On this very spot have I sat looking down with her on that beauteous vale; the words which she spoke are still in my ears, and the songs which she sung seem still lingering in these woods. I have loved, and I do love." And he paced the ground in great agitation, passing his hand often over his moistening eyes. Wulik," said Lord Thomas, " your love-story is a touching one; have you yet washen the blood from your hands of the men who destroyed your mistress ?"-" I burnt their dwellings," he replied fiercely, " quenched the ashes with their blood, gave the wolves their flesh, and the desert their bones. One only of her murderers escaped me, the good Ohio took him to its bosom, and from the stream he never returned."

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Lord Dalveen turned hastily round, and said, "Listen to me, Wulik,-abide here with the horses till to-morrow, if I return not before the morning sun, forget me, for I am slain. I now go down to this valley to speak with its people. Take this chain-it is of gold-seven links of it will purchase you half a wilderness at the price your tribes sell their natural inheritance; put it round your

neck, Wulik, and wear it for the sake of one who admires your sincerity and courage." And, armed with a brace of pistols, a small sword, and with his scarlet cloak thrown carelessly around him, he glided into the thick wood, and reached the border of the valley. The muzzle of a rifle was presented, and a warder said, "Your name, business, and pass-word?-no one enters this valley without leave." And he confronted Lord Dalveen with a determined look; while a shaggy wolf-hound sprung to his side, assumed the look of its master, and displayed its sharp teeth, moved its bristly mane in anger, and gave a low deep growl of opposition.

"Howatson," said the young nobleman, "my name is one which thou and thine have obeyed in a far land,-my name is Thomas Lord Dalveen." The warder dropt the muzzle of his rifle, while the colour heightened and then faded on his sunburned brow. "God bless you for naming that name, young nobleman," said Howatson; " it is now fifteen summers since I heard its sound; and bless you for showing me the face of one before I die whose house my forefathers served and loved. How fares it, my Lord, with the noble auld house of Dalveen?" It fares but ill, Howatson," said the young nobleman, unable to resist this call in so far a land; it fares but ill; I am the last of the race and name.""It fares ill indeed," answered the peasant with a darkening look-" one only left?the corner-stone totters and the curse fulfils. Go

thy ways, e'en go thy ways; I can look on thee no longer, for my heart fills. Yet let me touch thy hand before I die,—it will do me good; the hand of thy ancestors wrought wondrous deeds for the deliverance of Scotland, and thy hand, too, seems one that would not be slack when the trumpet sounded." And he pressed the young nobleman's hand between his palms, and turned away and resumed his watch.

Twilight, balmy and mild, had descended on the vale, as Lord Dalveen, parting with his countryman, followed the course of a little rivulet, which, with many a turn, sparkled before him,―a natural guide to the town which stood on its banks. He passed many cottages with walls of wood and roofs of straw, the light of cheerful hearth-fires shining in the windows, and the sound of songs still sung in Caledonia issuing from the doors. The whole land was parcelled out with more regard to exact admeasurement and the purposes of tillage, than to the natural beauty of the country. The running stream, the line of hillocks, the side of the wood and the foot of the hill, were not, as in Scotland, the natural lines and landmarks of division. whole glen, resembling an immense chess-board, or rather the various fields taking their hues from their productions, presented something like a tartan plaid, with all its beautiful colours, monotonous lines, and equal divisions. The ripening grain, the new-mown grass, the orchard glowing with fruit,

The