Page:Walter Scott - The Monastery (Henry Frowde, 1912).djvu/487

RV 419 (Rh) path, which, winding around the mountain, descends upon Kennaquhair from the south-east. He beheld at a distance a cloud of dust, and heard the neighing of many horses, while the occasional sparkle of the long line of spears, as they came downwards into the valley, announced that the band came thither in arms.

'Shame on my weakness!' said Abbot Eustace, dashing the tears from his eyes; 'my sight is too much dimmed to observe their motions; look, my son Edward,' for his favourite novice had again joined him, 'and tell me what ensigns they bear.'

'They are Scottish men, when all is done,' exclaimed Edward. 'I see the white crosses; it may be the Western Borderers, or Fernieherst and his clan.'

'Look at the banner,' said the abbot, 'tell me, what are the blazonries?'

'The arms of Scotland,' said Edward, 'the lion and its tressure, quartered, as I think, with three cushions. Can it be the royal standard?'

'Alas! no,' said the abbot, 'it is that of the Earl of Murray. He hath assumed with his new conquest the badge of the valiant Randolph, and hath dropped from his hereditary coat the bend which indicates his own base birth. Would to God he may not have blotted it also from his memory, and aim as well at possessing the name, as the power, of a king.'

'At least, my father,' said Edward, 'he will secure us from the violence of the Southron.'

'Aye, my son, as the shepherd secures a silly lamb from the wolf, which he destines in due time to his own banquet. Oh, my son, evil days are on us! A breach has been made in the walls of our sanctuary; thy brother hath fallen from the faith. Such news brought my last secret intelligence. Murray hath already spoken of rewarding his services with the hand of Mary Avenel.'

'Of Mary Avenel!' said the novice, tottering towards and grasping hold of one of the carved pinnacles which adorned the proud battlement.

'Aye, of Mary Avenel, my son, who has also abjured the faith of her fathers. Weep not, my Edward, weep not, my beloved son! or weep for their apostasy, and not for their