University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Sun fast declining; about an hour from sunset. An upper apartment of Malcolm's Castle. A door at side. Two large painted windows at back. Between them a narrow door (open), which commands a Gothic terrace, and gives a glimpse of a lake beyond. Another door at side. Three or four portraits of former Macronald chiefs, in their Highland and clan costume, on the walls; amongst these, conspicuous to audience, is a portrait of Lilian's father, Angus. Another portrait opposite side-door conceals a sliding panel. An oratory, with altar and plain crucifix, surmounted by a small lamp, not lighted in this scene, is also conspicuous to audience. Old armour, swords, shields, battle-axes, &c., grouped on walls.
Enter Lilian, still dressed in slight mourning, and Roderick.
Lil.
What say'st thou, Roderick? The clan Mackane
Are on our frontier!

Rod.
Ay; from where they muster
They see our battlements. We from the convent
Returning, barely missed them. By heaven's grace
You're now 'neath Malcolm's roof; at home once more.

Lil.
[Involuntarily referring to Sir Oscar, and overheard by Roderick.]
Then is he near?

Rod.
Who? Malcolm! Well, you know
He with his followers pursues the Camerons.
He has left you thinly guarded; but fear not.

Lil.
What sound was that? [The panel slides open. Kenelm enters. Closes the panel, and advances. Lilian. Sportively.]
Ah, mischief! art thou here?
Why by that panel enter like a thief,
When all else use the door?

Ken.
Because I choose
To do what others do not, and I love
Things curious and forbidden.

Rod.
Then Dame Nature
Errend in thy sex; thou shouldst have been a woman.

Ken.
[Affecting despondency.]
Alas, I'm not a woman! Yesterday,
Descending by the secret stair whereto
That panel leads, I strove to thread the maze
Of winding vaults below; I'd torch in hand,
But lost my way. Now had I been a woman,
I'd found my way, for women are like cats:
They see best in the night, and are at home
In all that's dark and crooked. [Laughing.]
'Tis so, Lilian!
[To Roderick.]
'Twas she that taught me first the panel's trick.
To-day I'd better luck; kept straight my path
Through the oozing walls of stone, till mounting steps
Upbore me to a grate, which, pushed, gave way,
And I was in the sunlight—none to watch—
[With a sudden change to bitter sadness.
As free as when I trod my father's hills!
Lilian, I tell you, I will see my father;
Not all my love for you can stop the hunger
For home that gnaws me.

Lil.
[Placing her arm round him, compassionately.]
My poor Kenelm!

Rod.
[To Kenelm, emphatically and sternly.]
Boy!
Must you again be warned? Remember well
The vain attempt at flight might prove your death.
[Softening.]
Poor petted fawn! keep in thy lady's bower,
And thou art safe.

Lil.
[To Kenelm.]
Chide not! 'tis nature's self
Prompts his desire. Kenelm, though you must bear
This durance, still you know that Lilian's heart
Would beat even with your joy if you were free.
And yet she'd miss thee much.

Ken.
[Taking both her hands.]
I do believe
You would have all free as you are—hold none captive—
[Archly.]
Except some wounded knight too early cured.
Well, wounded birds, uncaged, will oft fly back,
And so may he.

[Lilian turns from him rather sadly.
Rod.
[Admonishingly to Kenelm.]
Peace! peace! [A horn is heard without, followed by the tramp of a horse.]
A horn! And now
The tramp of horse! Perchance 'tis news of Malcolm.

Lil.
Perchance a foeman's summons. The Mackanes,
You say, are near?

[Kenelm, who is listening, slightly starts, then conceals his emotion.
Rod.
But humbled, and too weak
To brave your cousin's wrath.

Ken.
[Aside.]
How! The Mackanes
Are near—my father near! [Aloud, after a short pause.]
'Tis now the hour
When Randolph comes back with his hawks. I'll meet him,
And ask him of his sport.

Rod.
And to the hall
Will I, and find what stirs. 'Tis nought, dear lady,
To cause you fear: I will report full soon.
[To Kenelm.]
Come, lad!

Ken.
A moment. [To Lilian, with earnest tenderness.]
Lilian, if now
Or ever I have angered you—and oft
I've given you cause for anger—you'll forgive me?
The madcap always loved you.

Lil.
[Touched.]
Ne'er did Lilian
Doubt that, dear boy. [Kissing him.]
Heaven's blessing rest on thee!

Rod.
[Jestingly.]
Enough, enough! This sugar spoils the teeth.
Come, come, pet fawn!

Ken.
Say rather prisoned fawn.

Rod.
There's much to give and take, boy; the pet fawn
Is tethered and shut up; but the wild fawn—

Ken.
[Interrupting.]
Is free—is happy!

Rod.
Humph! he's shot and roasted.

[Roderick and Kenelm go out by side door.
Lil.
[Sitting.]
Dear, hapless boy! His name was on my lips
When Oscar left me. I had almost said,
Your nephew lives! Well that I checked my tongue!
That knowledge then had led to new assaults
From Murdoch, which resisted, in the strife
The lad perchance had fallen! For his safety
I must be secret still; but when a bride
I fly to Oscar, he shall share my flight.
'Twill crown anew the royal hour we wed,
To say, Thy brother's son by me preserved!
Ah me! when comes that hour? Is all a dream?
Did he indeed lie wounded at St Catherine's?
Did I there tend him! And oh! did we part
But three days since? He promised on the third
To send a trusted friar, by whose report
I should our time and place of meeting learn.
The sun declines, and yet he has not sent.

Sir O.
[To Roderick without.]
She is within, alone?

Re-enter Roderick, followed by Sir Oscar, who still wears no plaid or other tartan, or any badge of the Mackanes.
Rod.
So please you, lady,
The stranger knight.

[Goes out.
Lil.
Thou, Oscar!

Sir O.
My heart's heart!

[They embrace.
Lil.
Thou'rt here indeed; but in this house, in peril!

Sir O.
No peril, love. None here surmise my birth.
I'm but a stranger and a knight from France,
By you befriended. No, sweet Lilian,
'Tis you who are in peril. In this fortress,
Feebly defended, you but court attack,
While enemies, if few, yet subtle, plot
Against your freedom—life. Hear me, who know
Your danger, and in you would save myself.
Ere dawns to-morrow's sun, give me such right
As none else have to guard you. Be my wife!

Lil.
Thy wife to-night!

Sir O.
To-night.—I, with my train,
Will come and bear thee forth. A league from hence
A wayside chapel stands. There shall the priest
Await us; and, the rite performed, I'll lead thee
To the safe shelter of his sister's roof,
Where thou shalt bide till I returning claim thee.

Lil.
This night! Doubt not my love, but in that step
A girl takes passing from old life to new—
There's awe as well as joy! Grant time.

Sir O.
Thy danger
Of time admits not. Further know, my brother,
For gravest reasons, stands awhile deposed
From his command, and by the more part I
Am named his deputy. At break of day
I lead our clansmen to the aid of yours,
Who singly strive with Cameron.

Lil.
[In wonder.]
Your Mackanes—
They league with us—with Malcolm!

Sir O.
You shall learn
Hereafter how this fell; now hold it true.

Lil.
May this blest union ever bind you friends.

Sir O.
Heaven grant it, sweet; but to my suit. Once more
I say thou art in peril. Ere I don
A soldier's harness, let me bear thee hence
To a sure refuge. If thou still dost fear
These hurried nuptials, I obey thy will
And leave thee there unwed. But if—

Lil.
Stay, Oscar:
Thou goest to battle. He who gives the victory
Alone foreknows the end. I shrink no more.
Be it so. Ere thou goest, join our fates—
Claim me for thine! [Extending both her hands, which he takes.]
Then, com'st thou back a victor,
This swelling heart shall hail thee all my own;
And if—

Sir O.
If fate be darkest?

Lil.
Ay, even then
I should be blest, for I should join thee soon.
Till then, oh! dearer far thy memory
Than any hope surviving. I should know
That for some blessèd hours I called thee mine.
And, cleaving to that thought, look grief in the face
And say, I once was his! Take, take me, Oscar!

[She falls on his neck.
Sir O.
Perfect in trust as goodness! At thy word
I take thee. See, the sun goes down apace;
Ere it has set two hours, I will return.

[They turn towards door, which is open. Murdoch, disguised in the travelling garb of a minstrel, looks in at door. He wears a cloak with a hood, which partially conceals his face and quite disguises his identity.
Lil.
[Starting.]
Ah, look! who's he that on us bends a gaze
So strange and fixed?

Sir O.
Some pilgrim, by his garb. [Smiling.]
Why dost thou start?
[Advancing to door, and speaking to Murdoch, who is retiring.
Who art thou? What's thine errand?

Mur.
[Who assumes the gait, manner, and voice of an aged man, returns.]
A travelling minstrel I, who, on my way,
Have tidings for this house.

Sir O.
[To Lilian.]
Shall he approach?
His news may be of import.

Lil.
Ay, but go not.

Sir O.
[At door to Murdoch.]
Enter. [To Evan without.]
You, fellow, bear his harp.

Enter Murdoch followed by Evan, bearing harp. Evan, who is one of Macronald's domestics, wears the Macronald plaid.
Mur.
[To Lilian.]
Fair lady,
See I in you the daughter of the chief?

Lil.
Of him who was the chief—my father's dead.

Mur.
[Aside.]
'Tis she. [Aloud.]
These woful words must I repay
With sounds as harsh. As minstrel late I served
The young Monteith. Your father loved him well.
A rival of my lord in maiden's love
Slew him in strife o'er wine. These news I bear
To Monteith's distant kinsman, and was bid,
When journeying to him, to acquaint Macronald
With our dire grief.

Lil.
My father was the friend
Of the brave house you serve. I, as his child,
Lament its loss.

Mur.
Lady, a hapless house!
A century since, its head, in heat of youth,
Espoused the daughter of his enemy;
Since when the wrathful hand of heaven has pressed
Upon his line who broke the holy laws
Of pact and race. All that were heirs to him
Have come to ends untimely.

Lil.
[Aside.]
Strange! his tale
Sounds like a warning.

Sir O.
[Apart to her, smiling.]
Can this move thee?

Lil.
[In a low tone apart to him.]
No.
Thou art my fate. Whate'er betide, thou'rt mine.

[Oscar bends to her, and whispers reassuringly.
Mur.
[Aside, observing them.]
Ay, whisper, whisper! Let your amorous lips
Grow glued even in my sight. [Aloud, as Lilian and Sir Oscar turn to him.]
My errand told,
I of your goodness, lady, would entreat
Short rest and shelter. Then I take my way.

Lil.
Take freely all you need; I ask not now
That you should prove your skill upon the harp,
Your journey's solace, doubtless. Ere you go
I may demand a lay.

Mur.
Whate'er you ask,
I am obedient. If the lay be harsh
And the strings jar and crash, bethink I'm old,
And my hand lacks its cunning. [Half menacingly.]
Else I'd win
Such music from the chords, the strain should dwell
On your charmed ear till life itself lapsed with it.

Lil.
I take your will for deed. Your name?

Mur.
'Tis Uric.

Lil.
Evan, conduct the minstrel to his chamber.
[To Murdoch.]
May food and rest refresh you.

Mur.
[Bowing low.]
I'm your debtor.

[Evan, bearing Murdoch's harp, goes to door. Murdoch slowly follows him.
Sir O.
[To Lilian.]
Time speeds, and bids me haste; remember, sweet,
Two hours past sunset I return.

Lil.
[Observing Murdoch, who at door turns and gazes on her intently.]
Again
That fixed, mysterious gaze!

[Murdoch follows Evan out by side door.
Sir O.
[Smiling.]
What dost thou fear?
Is't strange that minstrels' eyes, alive to beauty,
Should feed on thine?

Lil.
[Smiling, and trying to rally.]
'Twas folly, and 'tis past.

Sir O.
Then for brief while farewell. [Kissing her hand.]
When next I come
'Twill be to claim in thee a joy so sure
Nought can unbase it, and so absolute
It cannot know increase!

[Going.
Lil.
[Following him to door.]
Thy voice, dear lord,
Doth speak for both our hearts. Till night farewell.

[Sir Oscar goes out by side door. Lilian gazes after him.
Lil.
[Returning from door, and sinking into chair.]
The hour is fixed, the hour that seals my bliss;
Yet bliss is solemn, and my heart lies hushed
Like earth before the dawn. Strange, joy should wear
A look that chills me. I could almost deem
Again yon minstrel's gaze, that, like a cloud
Enfolding thunder, veiled what still it showed,
Bent, moveless on me. Lilian, shame! art thou
The child of Angus? [Rising.]
Angus! [Arrested by her father's portrait.]
From the wall
His darkening mien upbraids me, that I blend
His foeman's blood with his. I'm fancy's sport.
[She again gazes on the portrait of Angus, her father, which gradually fades away, and changes slowly to the spectre of Graham's wraith, which is precisely the same in appearance, expression, and attitude as when seen in first act. Lilian continues to speak while this change takes place.]
And yet a horror broods in all the air,
Some spell still holds my sight. Ha! now it fades,
The pictured semblance fades; and now puts on
Some ghastly change! No more my father, there
It stands—again the vengeful spirit stands
That warns our house of danger. Is it death
That now impends? [After a pause.]
Stern phantom, when before
Thou cam'st in thy mute terror, I was firm,
Firm even to death! but now I love and fear.
If in thine awful, unconjectured home
Old thoughts of human love can reach thee still,
[Sinking on her knees.
Claim me not yet; have pity!

Enter Kenelm by open door at back, cap in hand.
Ken.
[Apart to himself.]
One last look!
She knows not 'tis the last. [Aloud, perceiving Lilian, rushing to her, and placing his arm round her.]
Why Lilian!—

[As Kenelm rushes to Lilian, the spectre of Graham's wraith suddenly vanishes from the frame, in which the portrait of her father Angus resumes its place.
Lil.
'Tis gone!

[She reclines almost fainting in Kenelm's arms.