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 By WILLIAM IJENRY TOMPKINS 
 
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ROBERTO! 
 KINCAID 
 
 A Tale of the Douglas 
 
 WILLIAM H£N&Y TOMPKINS 
 
 Boston: Richard G. Badger 
 
 The Gorham Press, 1903 
 
Copyright 1903 by William H. Tompkins 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 CONGRESS, 
 "Two CuMr.* Received 
 
 mm 
 
 COPVRKSHT EWTHV 
 
 CLASS C\. XXa Ko. 
 / COPY 8. 
 
 
 * r , r r < 
 
 - * • - - 
 
 Printed at The Gorham Press, Boston 
 
TO THE CURIOUS 
 
 For a writer to trespass within the territory of a master 
 may appear little less than criminal ; and to choose for 
 his field of action, a land whose every hill and dale, 
 whose mountains, lochs and torrents still echo on a clear 
 dawn with the tender songs of a Burns ; or as the twi- 
 light fades into dusk, throng with the romantic and 
 knightly legends of a Scott, may seem to invite criticism 
 and provoke comparisons whose sweetness is like unto 
 gall. 
 
 But the writer is less guilty than he looks. That 
 William, the Eighth Earl of Douglas, was born in Scot- 
 land in the fifteenth century, can not with reason be 
 charged to the misdeeds of the author, nor should he be 
 expected to apologize for the circumstances of a Scottish 
 birth. Blame history, not the writer! 
 
 When men love and hate, when they thirst for power 
 and fame, time and locality, if their blood be red, become 
 as incidents, stage settings as it were. Courage that can 
 laugh down defeat, inspires the heart, whether it illum- 
 inates the throne of an Eastern Satrap or is obscured in 
 a Pennsylvania coal mine. So it is men, more than 
 places, that the writer has sought to portray; wounded 
 hearts, baffled ambitions, more than romantic scenery; 
 rather the dark solitudes of the mind than the secret 
 dungeons of a medicevai castle. 
 
PART I 
 
 In Lorna's glen there dwelt a band 
 
 That long had cursed the iron hand 
 
 Of Douglas' rule and longed to overthrow 
 
 A clan whose power they ill could know. 
 
 The hills they once had ranged at will, 
 
 The mountain streams that knew their skill, 
 
 The darkest glen where quarry lie, 
 
 No longer see their tartans fly, 
 
 No longer with their voices ring, 
 
 No longer hear their arrows sing ; 
 
 For Douglas' haughty earl forbade 
 
 Them pass beyond their native glade. 
 
 What eagle loves his gilded cage? 
 
 What lion can repress his rage 
 
 When bars of steel hedge round his pride ? 
 
 Who binds the wind or stems the tide? 
 
 What recked they now as freeborn men 
 
 That Lorna's was the richest glen 
 
 In all of Perth? What cared their chief 
 
 What Glasgow tradesmen paid for beef? 
 
 II 
 
 Of all the clan in that fair glade, 
 Best loved was Robert of Kincaid , 
 Brave son of him who that fell day 
 When Lorna made her last foray, 
 
 5 
 
ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Was captured by the Douglas bold 
 
 And held a captive in his hold. 
 
 Young Robert loved by youth and maid, 
 
 The swiftest foot that trod the glade, 
 
 Could not keep pace with Lorna's son ; 
 
 Each game, each race with ease was won. 
 
 Above the middle height he stood, 
 
 The lithest youth in all that wood. 
 
 With muscles tougher than the oak, 
 
 His trusty blade at one sure stroke 
 
 Could fell an ox ; with single blow 
 
 Could lay a three-inch sapling low ; 
 
 At sixty feet he'd hurl the spear 
 
 And drive it through the fleeting deer. 
 
 With hair that shamed night's ebon wing, 
 
 Fair browed as nymphs the poets sing ; 
 
 With eye that met each friendly view 
 
 Most like Loch Earn's unmeasured blue, 
 
 Yet when the long pent storm out broke, 
 
 And black waves gleamed with lightning stroke, 
 
 Those flashing orbs shot flames of wrath, 
 
 When woe to him that barred their path ! 
 
 Bear, wolf or stag he'd yet to meet 
 Before whose onslaught he'd retreat, 
 Or king or knight in coat of mail, 
 Before whose eye his cheek would pale. 
 Though far from courts and ways of ease, 
 His graceful mien could not but please 
 The most capricious dame or maid 
 That saw him in his native plaid. 
 
 Ill 
 
 When strength and grace unite in one 
 Of Lorna's youth, her bravest son, 
 Who'll gauge the havoc 'mongst the fair? 
 The tenderest heart Fate scarce will spare. 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 
 
 So Ellen Bruce, the Highland's pride, 
 Did give her hand as Robert's bride. 
 A year of ease, a year of bliss, 
 Whose harshest penance was a kiss ; 
 Forgetful of the world outside, 
 Contented with his happy bride, 
 Young Robert lived till that sad day 
 His father led that last foray 
 Against old Lorna's ancient foe, 
 And fell beneath the broadsword's blow. 
 A captive ta'en by Douglas bold, 
 Cast into Lanark's gloomy hold 
 
 The chieftain's robe on Robert fell, 
 And wisdom came and cast her spell, 
 Though not to damp but feed the fire 
 That burned his heart with vengeful ire. 
 The months dragged by their weary length, 
 While well he gauged the Douglas' strength ; 
 Till on that glorious June day morn, 
 The glen did echo with the horn, 
 And Lorna's clan did there convoke 
 Beneath the ancient council oak ; 
 While ill-pent rage through each heart runs, 
 As Lorna mourns her captive sons, 
 And cursed the law Earl Douglas made 
 To hem them in their narrow glade. 
 
 IV 
 
 The trumpets blared, the bugles rang; 
 With shout and cheer each clansman sprang 
 Astride his eager, restless steed, 
 Grasped well the rein, and then gave heed 
 To bold young Robert of Kincaid. 
 With flashing eye the chief surveyed 
 Each man and youth, before he spoke; — 
 i ' Too long we've worn the galling yoke 
 
ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 A dastard earl has on us laid ; 
 
 Too long, oh sons, have we delayed 
 
 To raise the cross, unsheathe the knife ; 
 
 Too long we've stayed the bitter strife ! 
 
 Like oxen shall we draw the plough? — 
 
 Or like yon stag with antlered brow, 
 
 Break through the bounds they've round us set y . 
 
 Lay waste their fields, scale parapet 
 And castle tower, drive home the blade, 
 Ere we return to Lorna's glade? " 
 Out sprang his ponderous gleaming sword, 
 And matching deed and act to word, 
 The chieftain said : — " By God I swear 
 Ere I return to Kincaid's lair, 
 And noblest wife by man possest, 
 Who holds her first born on her breast, 
 Before I see those eyes of blue, 
 And clasp that form so fair and true, 
 The southern dolt this arm shall feel, 
 Shall know the temper of this steel ! 
 Yon sun shall first retrace his path, 
 Ere I repress my vengeful wrath, 
 And ere he take his westward bed 
 Behind Ben Voirlich's sombre head, 
 Some fated soul with death shall wed I 
 Now men of Lorna, once as free 
 As yon proud eagle in yon tree, 
 Why rot like carrion in a glen? 
 Come forth and play the part of men ; 
 Like gluttons can you eat and sleep 
 While Kincaid starves in gloomy keep ! 
 Drive out the Southron and his law, 
 His carcass feed the vulture's maw ! 
 If one there be in all this band 
 Who shrinks to take the blade in hand,. 
 Dismount, I say, and ne'er be seen 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 
 
 Till grass on Kincaid's grave is green — 
 Who swears the oath, who bides with me ? 
 
 Three score of blades flashed bright and free, 
 Three score of blades cross then and there, 
 And three score voices vengeance swear. 
 Huzzas for Kincaid then went round, 
 Till distant hills gave back the sound ; 
 The eagle screamed and wheeled on high, 
 A fawn that near did hidden lie 
 Affrighted to its dam did fly ; 
 A lone wolf answered from its hole, 
 And then lay down and licked its jowl. 
 
 VI 
 
 Again the signal sharp and shrill, 
 
 And three score hearts exultant thrill ; 
 
 As many steeds the greensward tread, 
 
 The youthful chieftain at their head. 
 
 They scarce had reached that massive stone 
 
 That rears itself like Druid's throne 
 
 Just at the edge of Lorna's wood, — 
 
 When on its seat a harper stood. 
 
 His streaming beard in billows fell, 
 
 And gave the scene a mystic spell ; 
 
 Though countless snows had blanched his hair 
 
 And numbed his fingers long and spare. 
 
 They scarcely chilled the ministrel's fire 
 
 When once he touched his treasured lyre. 
 
 With awe and love the clan drew near 
 
 To listen to the ancient seer. 
 
 In youth he'd served Kincaid's grandsire, 
 
 And now the grandson he'd inspire ; 
 
 With voice that told an earlier day, 
 
 The aged minstrel sung this lay ; — 
 
10 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 VII 
 THE SONG 
 
 The blackcock loves the mountain air, 
 The red deer loves the leafy glade, 
 
 Bat Lorna's sons have love more fair 
 In Robert of Kincaid. 
 
 They love full well their native glen, 
 They love the wild rill's dashing foam, 
 
 But more than these they love as men 
 The right to hunt and roam. 
 
 Earl Douglas bade us keep our glade, 
 Nor dare to cross the border line, 
 
 We'll let him know we're not afraid, 
 As on his sheep we dine. 
 
 Oh where's the chief so true and bold 
 With lion heart beneath his plaid. 
 
 Who'll dare the Douglas in his hold? — 
 'Tis Robert of Kincaid. 
 
 Oh woe's the hand that smites our chief, 
 Or harms his bairn or lonely bride, 
 
 Oh woe's the hand that brings him grief, 
 Its stains be never dried ! 
 
 VIII 
 SONG 
 
 Oh, advance to the foray, 
 Advance to the fight ; 
 
 Oh the robber chief plunder, 
 The cowardly smite ; 
 
 But return ere the morrow, 
 Return ere the night ! 
 
 Oh the eaglets are taken 
 When left in the nest ; 
 
A TALE OP THE DOUGLAS II 
 
 Oh the doe in the braken 
 
 The wolf will molest, 
 And the house that's forsaken 
 
 The thief will infest. 
 
 IX 
 
 The harper paused ; his mournful eye 
 Fixed on some vision seen on high ; 
 A tremor shook his wasted form 
 As though he felt the coming storm ; 
 Again his hand caressed the harp, 
 Now low and sweet, then quick and sharp ; 
 Until it seemed the strands would break — 
 Such tones of vengeance they did wake. 
 
 X 
 
 Oh Douglas, proud Douglas, 
 
 Beware of the day 
 That you slaughter the helpless 
 
 As for mercy they pray ; 
 Look well to the castle 
 
 Ere crumbles the clay ; 
 Think well on thy future, 
 
 Think well of to-day, 
 For the blood that thou sheddest, 
 
 Thy own shalt repay ! 
 
 XI 
 
 A wild light lit the chieftain's eye, 
 
 As if a hoste he did defy ; 
 
 With white lips close together pressed 
 
 To stem the tumult in his breast, 
 
 His right hand did his broadsword grasp, 
 
 As though a Douglas it did clasp ; — 
 
 And yet no word the chieftain spoke. 
 
 Prolonged huzzas the silence broke, 
 
12 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 And echoed back from elm and oak ; 
 Again the bugle's shrill refrain, 
 Each clansman firmly grasps the rein, 
 A moment more, the border's crossed, 
 Deep in the wood the clan are lost. 
 
 XII 
 
 Bowed o'er his harp, the ministrel stood 
 
 Long gazing through the close greenwood ; 
 
 When on his arm a hand was laid, 
 
 Then spoke a voice as if afraid 
 
 To break the reverential spell ; 
 
 A voice more sweet than vesper bell, 
 
 Ay sweeter than the nightingale 
 
 That mourns its mate in lonely vale, 
 
 Or plaint of burn that floods the pool 
 
 Beneath the moonlight pure and cool. 
 
 He slowly turned, when met his gaze 
 
 A form beyond the poet's praise, 
 
 That baffled all the artist's skill, 
 
 And made strong men its slaves at will. 
 
 Her blue eyes seemed so cold and pure 
 
 No passion could their look endure, 
 
 And deeper than the midnight dell, 
 
 Unfathomed cast a fatal spell. 
 
 Her cheek — more fair than apple's gold 
 
 Immortalized by bard of old — 
 
 Had that rare whiteness of the snow 
 
 Tinged by the winter's sunset glow. 
 
 The windblown curls that wreathed her face, 
 
 And clothed her with an artless grace, 
 
 Though darker than a Viking's shroud, 
 
 Were such a queen might well be proud. 
 
 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 13 
 
 XIII 
 
 Then spoke the Harper : — 44 Daughter, pray 
 
 Why from the fold so far away ? 
 
 Dost thou not know in this wild dale, 
 
 Where every tree has its weird tale, 
 
 The helpless lamb should never stray 
 
 Unguarded thus, an easy prey 
 
 To prowling wolf, or lawless band ? " 
 
 44 Now, Father, drop thy chiding hand, 
 
 Think you that I could slumber when 
 
 My Robert was to leave the glen, 
 
 On mad foray or some wild raid? — 
 
 A Bruce unworthy of Kincaid ! 
 
 At dawn, his cold lips pressed my cheek, 
 
 And numbed with fear I could not speak, 
 
 When softly from my couch he crept, 
 
 Believing that his Ellen slept ; 
 
 And stealthily, his leave did take, 
 
 Lest wife and babe he should awake. 
 
 I lingered o'er that last caress 
 
 Too long, then rose and did me dress, 
 
 And fearful sought this rocky ledge, 
 
 (Dear seat that heard our sacred pledge) 
 
 I knew the clansmen here must pass, 
 
 Before they crossed the deep morass ; 
 
 But oh, fond heart, oh stinging fate, 
 Could not my chief for Ellen wait ! 
 The forest echoed with their cheers, 
 Each echo bred a thousand fears ; 
 Methought I heard the raven croak 
 Just as I passed the Druid's oak; 
 And when I strove to call my lord, 
 My lips refused to form a word ; — 
 Say, Father, shall I see that face, 
 And faint again in his embrace? " 
 
14 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 " There, daughter, cease thy fears ; 
 Thy babe has need of all these tears, — 
 Who harms thy chief, him ill betide — 
 The towering pine falls not alone, 
 But reaps a swath both long and wide, 
 While all its kin in anguish moan. — 
 Come, daughter, when the nursling cries, 
 The anxious mother nestward flies." 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 15 
 
 PART II 
 
 By noon they'd skirted Uam Var, 
 
 Ere dusk they'd forded Vennachar, 
 
 And when the stars began to shine 
 
 They halted by a blasted pine, 
 
 The noblest of a noble wood ; 
 
 A century's storms it had withstood. 
 
 Then where the scanty grass was green 
 
 Within a shelter'd dark ravine, 
 
 Each clansman led his weary steed, 
 
 Ana left it well content to feed. 
 
 The outposts then the chieftain placed, 
 
 Ere to the camp his feet retraced. 
 
 Their lengthy fast the next they break, 
 
 And silent all the meal partake, 
 
 While vagrant thoughts unfettered roam ; 
 
 Some peer ahead and some turn home. 
 
 The supper done and cleared away, 
 
 Some on the sward at full length lay, 
 
 Or stretched them 'neath the fragrant pine, 
 
 Although to sleep they scarce incline. 
 
 II 
 
 The loosened tongues were plying fast 
 
 With valiant feats done in the past, 
 
 When Oswald, eldest of the clan, 
 
 Dark browed and wrinkled, scarred and tan, 
 
 Who bared alike his stalwart form 
 
 To battles' shock or rushing storm, 
 
 A man of deeds who seldom spake, 
 
 His wonted silence then did break ; — 
 
 4i When will the ravens cease to croak 
 
 And stale the air with fetid joke ? 
 
16 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Before we yield to slumber's king, 
 Young Wilfred shall a ballad sing ! " 
 A score of voices loudly cry, — 
 " Ho, Wilfred, 'tis too late to fly ! 
 Come, let thy voice so clear and strong 
 Awake the echoes with a song ! " 
 The youth arose as he was bid, 
 And tossing back the curls that hid 
 A noble brow and eyes whose glance 
 Outvies the stars that nightly dance 
 Upon the waves of Loch Achray, 
 He sang to them this Highland lay. 
 
 Ill 
 
 WILFRED'S SONG 
 
 Sweet Alice loved a Highland lad, 
 
 Young Bertram was his name ; 
 The old earl spied the telltale plaid 
 
 And swore he'd snare the game : 
 Yet Alice loved her chieftain well — 
 
 The Earl vowed if again they meet, 
 The wedding bell should ring a knell, 
 
 And marriage veil be winding sheet. 
 
 Oh sweeter far the waters are 
 
 Of wild rill on the mountain, 
 
 Than lowland stream though statues dream 
 Beside the sculptured fountain. 
 
 Young Bertram has an eye more blue, 
 
 His locks a bonnier curl, 
 His beardless cheek a ruddier hue 
 
 Than lowland prince or earl ; 
 Give him his trusty broadsword bright, 
 
 A rock on which to stand, 
 And he'd defy the bravest knight 
 
 That rides about the land. 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 17 
 
 The jeweled snow alike doth glow 
 
 On hut and haughty tower ; 
 And rain doth fall on castle wall 
 
 The same as woodland flower. 
 
 The old earl locked her in the hold 
 
 With deaf John for the warder, 
 The earl forgot that love was bold — 
 
 And Bertram crossed the border ; 
 At dead of night he scaled the tower, — 
 
 All peaceful slept the warder — 
 Then Bertram plucked a Highland flower, — 
 
 By dawn, they'd crossed the border. 
 
 Oh yoke the cow to lowland plow, 
 
 She'll heed the order given, 
 But not the roe the Highlands know — 
 
 For a fawn will not be driven, — 
 
 Oh a fawn will not be driven, 
 
 Nor a maiden's heart be led, 
 Though Hell itself had striven 
 
 Till she were cold and dead. 
 
 IV 
 
 "Bravo, well done ! " the clansmen cry, 
 " A curse on earls who dare to try 
 To thwart the love of lad and maid. 
 The good greenwood has roof to shade, 
 And heather is a royal bed 
 When courage doth with beauty wed. 
 Now one more song, then saints shall keep 
 A friendly guard, the while we sleep. " 
 
 V 
 
 THE SONG 
 
 The moon her watch from wooded hill 
 Upon the lake is keeping; 
 
18 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Within the fold, the flock is still 
 
 And the shepherd lad is sleeping- 
 
 Oh, huntsman, lay the bow aside, 
 And sheath the fleeting arrow ; 
 
 The deer let cool its bleeding side 
 Within the braes of Yarrow. 
 
 Thy steed is fainting with the chase, 
 Thy boldest hound with flying ; 
 
 Oh let the stag win out the race, 
 And find his doe ere dying ! 
 
 Come rest thee in my greenwood bower 
 
 And on my bosom slumber, 
 I'll bind thy brow with opiate flower 
 
 Till sleep thy eyelids cumber. 
 
 Give o'er the chase a maid doth pray, 
 For thee, her heart is pining ; 
 
 Whate'er you ask, she'll not gainsay 
 When in her arms reclining. 
 
 Oh, a maiden's heart is breaking, 
 
 Her brow death- white with sorrow ; 
 
 For her no happy waking, 
 
 For her no glad tomorrow ! 
 
 VI 
 
 The echoes long had sunk to rest, 
 
 And sleep each yeoman's brow had pressed,,. 
 
 When from some far monastic cell 
 
 Was heard the tolling midnight bell. 
 
 The chieftain started with the sound, 
 
 And shiv'ring rose from off the ground. 
 
 His hand he pressed o'er brow and face 
 
 As if to clear the time and place ; 
 
 Then closer drew his ample plaid, 
 
 And nervous hastened down the glade, 
 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 19 
 
 Where fed the horses in the shade. 
 
 Here quiet reigned and all was well ; 
 
 But sleep had lost her potent spell. 
 
 His mind reverted to the morn, 
 
 His sleeping bride and their first-born ; 
 
 The Douglas' crime, his wrongs, his vow, 
 
 Like some wild tide rush o'er him now. 
 
 VII 
 
 " Fools, fools we are to madly prate 
 
 And childlike some huge bubble blow, 
 
 Just for the cunning hand of Fate 
 
 To grasp and jesting overthrow ! 
 
 Lured by ambition's mocking spell, 
 
 What vast emprises we'd compel, 
 
 What uncurbed rivers we would chain, 
 
 What mountains sink, plough up what plain, 
 
 What tides and tempests we would bind ; 
 
 Yet lo, a mote — the eye is blind ; 
 
 A crumb misplaced — we gasping choke; 
 
 A scratch, a prick — life's dam is broke, 
 
 The flood outpours ; the noblest breed 
 
 Becomes a spoil where maggots feed ! — 
 
 The air grows chill ; some blinding doom 
 
 Seems rising through the thick'ning gloom ; 
 
 Huge shadows take a fearful shape 
 
 And stifle me with swathing crape. — 
 
 Ellen, I come ! Oh God, methinks 
 
 I stand upon the sloping brink 
 
 Of an unmeasured yawning pit 
 
 Before whose mouth vast shadows flit ; 
 
 And groping down the slippery ledge 
 
 I peer below the crumbling edge, 
 
 Where my uncertain eyes behold 
 
 Thy upturned face in deathdamp cold ; 
 
 Thy form across a mound of stones 
 
20 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 With rainwashed skulls and bleaching bones 
 Thy helpless arms, upstretched, beseech, 
 Oh God ! beyond my utmost reach. 
 
 Each time thy hand I seek to clasp, 
 I feel some demon's choking grasp. 
 My name, thy white lips ceaseless moan 
 Until my eyes seem fiery stone. — 
 Oh Hell, what monster grips thy hair 
 And drags thee naked to his lair ! 
 Avaunt ! 'Tis some dark dream ; I wake,. 
 Th' oppressing spell begins to break. 
 A shriek? No, 'tis my Duncan's cry ; 
 By yon tall pine the camp doth lie. 
 Yon demon was a gloomy cloud 
 Whose shadow chilled me as a shroud. 
 My Ellen doth so sweetly rest 
 No dream disturbs her peaceful breast. 
 Yon moon that gilds the river deep, 
 Doth kiss her lids, now closed in sleep.— 
 When doubts with premonitions wed 
 They prostitute the hand and head, 
 Until we drown in drops of dew, 
 See clouds when heaven's arch is blue ; 
 Till action is a long-lost game, 
 And valor doth forget her name. — 
 The night creeps on its petty pace, 
 My untoward steps I'll now retrace. 
 Let, William, Douglas' Earl beware 
 How at his hand my kinsmen fare ; 
 The arm of Robert of Kincaid 
 Is scarce the arm of errant maid ! " 
 
 VIII 
 
 'Twas somewhat past the midday hour, 
 When Oswald's eye spied Douglas' tower ; 
 Hugh pile of stone beside the Clyde, 
 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 21 
 
 Where flowed and ebbed the battle's tide, 
 
 Till nameless times the sweeping flood 
 
 Bore out to sea its freight of blood. 
 
 Oh ancient pile, if lips were thine, 
 
 What ear so dull 'twould not incline 
 
 To list the deeds that thou couldst tell, 
 
 Rename each soul that nameless fell ! 
 
 If every dungeon had a tongue, 
 
 What woeful ballads had been sung. — 
 
 The clan that morn had marked their chief, 
 
 Whose brow seemed traced with signs of grief, 
 
 Whose features bore the marks of age, 
 
 Fresh tokens of the seer and sage ; 
 
 And though he seemed less debonair, 
 
 His dark eye showed the fire still there. 
 
 When Robert saw the ancient hold, 
 
 His stormy brow grew white and cold, 
 
 And pulling on the bridle rein, 
 
 He checked the clan above the plain ; 
 
 Then calling Oswald to his side, 
 He bade him to the castle ride, 
 And there demand to see the earl, 
 And to his face this message hurl ; — 
 u Release forthwith the chief, Kincaid, 
 Recall the edict thou hast made, 
 Renounce thy claim o'er Lorna's glade, 
 Whose noblest sons defiance fling, 
 And own no lord save Scotland's king. 
 Say each doth pledge his life and hand 
 Now to maintain each just demand." 
 
 IX 
 
 With reverent head old Oswald heard 
 Intent to treasure every word ; 
 Then wheeling on his charger gray, 
 With spur and word was soon away, 
 
22 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Now dashing through the scattered trees, 
 His tartan streaming on the breeze, 
 Next bounding o'er the rolling plain, 
 The grim old castle soon doth gain. 
 Here rising in his stirrups high 
 As if the keeper to espy, 
 His bugle to his lips doth bring 
 And shrills a blast till echoes ring. 
 
 The summons brought a motley crowd 
 Of dogs and men before the gate ; 
 The warden then appeared in state 
 And challenged Oswald strong and loud ; 
 " Pray, who art thou, what dost thou seek, 
 What message bring? — Depart or speak !" 
 " My business, warden 's not with thee, 
 The Earl of Douglas I must see ; — 
 The bravest clan in Perth is mine, 
 On fairer glen sun doth not shine, 
 Nor stag doth tread a richer glade : — 
 My chief is Robert of Kincaid." 
 The warder beckoned to his squire, 
 Who turned to list, then did retire. 
 A statue on a sculptured steed — 
 Yet Oswald's eye to all gave heed, 
 Until what seemed a needless wait, 
 The squire appeared before the gate. 
 The warder signaled where he stood, 
 When raised the ponderous gate of wood, 
 Then slowly down the drawbridge falls. 
 The warder now to Oswald calls ; — 
 u Advance ! The noble earl would hear 
 What folly makes you thus appear." 
 
 No monarch of the mountain side 
 
 That leads the herds through forests wide, 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 23 
 
 Wore prouder front than Oswald when 
 He rode into the Douglas' den. 
 As through the massive arch he passed, 
 No furtive look he backward cast, 
 Nor when he heard the huge gate fall 
 That oft the stoutest heart did pall. 
 When once the court yard he did gain 
 He gave a page the bridle rein ; 
 Paused just to rub the noble grey 
 Who answered with a grateful neigh, 
 Then followed mute behind his guide 
 Until they reached the court's far side ; 
 Here entering a commodious room, 
 The meeting place of squire and groom, 
 They passed on to a dim lit hall 
 Where, hung upon each ancient wall, 
 Were trophies of the field and chase, 
 With relics of an earlier race ; 
 Skins that the bear or wolf had worn 
 Hung peaceful by the red deer's horn. 
 This battered shield with fatal dent 
 Shows how the tide at Falkirk went; 
 That mighty axe, so legends say, 
 At Bannockburn, helped win the day. 
 
 XI 
 
 They halted by a carven door 
 And signed the page who stood before, 
 When as the door turned on its hinge 
 Old Oswald felt his muscles twinge 
 With something scarce akin to fear — 
 The moment fast was drawing near 
 When Earl of Douglas he should face. 
 He crossed ; the door swung back to place, 
 And through the windows' dusty glow, 
 He saw a man pace to and fro ; 
 
24 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 A man whose sword made orphans wail, 
 
 A man whose eye made princes quail, 
 
 A man the king himself did fear, 
 
 A man deep hated far and near, — 
 
 A man who dared confederate 
 
 With Ross and Crawford 'gainst the State.— 
 
 With strong arms folded on his breast, 
 
 He midway paused, perchance to rest, 
 
 As eagles balance on the wing 
 
 Ere on their prey they downward spring ; 
 
 Then wheeling on his iron-shod heel, 
 
 His eye, blue grey as tempered steel, 
 
 On Oswald fell. His brow grew dark ; 
 
 The smould'ring ire at length took spark ; — 
 
 XII 
 
 " Speak, caitiff, say what brings thee here! 
 
 Of broken laws has thou no fear? 
 
 Say that thy chief would leave the glade, 
 
 My cattle steal, my yeoman raid ! 
 
 Art dumb ; what message dost thou bring ? 
 
 Or by St. Fillan thou shalt swing !" 
 
 Old Oswald faced the earl unmoved, 
 
 And well that day his valor proved : — 
 
 " My lord, a man unused to Courts am I ; 
 
 With grace nor wit shall I reply. 
 
 The blade than tongue I readier use, 
 
 And so my speech may you amuse. 
 
 I've come you've heard from Lorna's glade :, 
 
 My chief is Robert of Kincaid — 
 
 Brave son of him, you know too well, 
 
 Lies chained in some foul dungeon cell. 
 
 I do not sue, I now demand 
 
 You free those limbs, unbind that hand, 
 
 Revoke those laws in madness made, 
 
 Renounce all claim o'er Lorna's glade.» 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 25 
 
 This I demand in Kincaid's name ; 
 You know the justice of the claim." 
 
 XIII 
 
 When Oswald spoke the word " demand", 
 
 The Douglas clinched his sword in hand, 
 
 And ill suppressed the rising storm 
 
 That quivered through his massive form. 
 
 A dangerous smile played o'er his face 
 
 As lightnings round a dark cloud chase ; — 
 
 " And so the hawk that 'scapes its cage 
 
 Would dare the eagle's baffled rage ; 
 
 So prowling wolves would lions be, 
 
 And cattle thieves dictate to me ! 
 
 Ye gods, indeed it doth amuse ! — 
 
 Suppose obedience I refuse 
 
 This would-be lordling, pray what then? 
 
 Shall I be haled to Lorna's glen ?" 
 
 " My Earl of Douglas, it were best 
 
 To know this is no maiden's jest. 
 
 Oh trifle not a son's just hate ! 
 
 On yonder hill my chief doth wait 
 
 Who longs to meet thee in the field, 
 
 Or try his lance upon thy shield. — 
 
 The falcon hath a tireless wing, 
 
 And Scotland still doth boast a king!" 
 
 XIV 
 
 When Douglas heard the threat implied 
 No hand could stem the wrathful tide ; — 
 1 ' Back, caitiff, to thy wretched glen ! 
 What, dare a Douglas in his den ! 
 Release Kincaid ? His bones shall rot, 
 His very name shall be forgot ! 
 So Scotland has a king ! Thou churl, 
 Remember Douglas has an earl 
 
26 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Whose word within these walls is law ! 
 Beware who plagues the lion's paw ; 
 The fox had better watch its lair 
 Than trespass on the lion's fare ! 
 'Twere better far, thy master tell, 
 To challenge thus the Prince of Hell ! — 
 Away, begone ! lest thou wouldst sleep 
 In yonder dungeon's darkest keep ! 
 Ho, guard ! This yeoman show his steed, 
 Let drop the bridge, then bid him speed." 
 As toward the door old Oswald turned 
 He ill-controlled the ire that burned, — 
 " Proud Earl, beware, 'tis no long tale 
 Ere Kincaid's arm thy cheek shall pale !" 
 
 XV 
 
 When Oswald reached his charger's side, 
 He grasped the mane and leaped astride, 
 His huge frame trembling like the oak 
 O'er which the storm its fury broke. 
 As on the bridge his grey did tread, 
 He turned and to the Douglas said : — 
 " The future holds a heavy day 
 When blood for blood thou shalt repay !" 
 Then tight'ning on his charger's rein 
 He spurred back o'er the rolling plain. 
 
 XVI 
 
 The chief scarce heard old Oswald through, 
 When from its sheath his broadsword flew, 
 And holding high the blade, he cried : — 
 " Woe me, if I these insults bide; 
 My heart be food for boasting wren ; 
 Mount, follow, sons of Lorna's glen." 
 Once more a ride across the plain, 
 Once more the castle's gate they gain, 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 27 
 
 Once more a summons loud and shrill, 
 
 Once more old Bluff demands their will ; 
 
 When Kincaid doth in stirrups rise 
 
 And answering, to the warder cries, — 
 
 14 Ho, knave, thy master bid appear, 
 
 Or hide in shame and live in fear ! 
 
 Say Robert son of brave Kincaid 
 
 Makes good his word with lance or blade.'* 
 
 The warder beckoned to a churl 
 
 Who quick returned with Douglas' Earl ; 
 
 And passion lit the earl's dark eye 
 
 As lightning lights the midnight sky ; 
 
 Nor tiger foamed with fiercer rage 
 
 Than Douglas in the warder's cage ; — 
 
 " What means this insult, brigand chief? 
 
 A Douglas treat with cattle thief ! 
 
 Back, or I'll hang thee and thy beast 
 
 Where crows shall on thy carrion feast !" 
 
 u My lord of Douglas," the chief replied, 
 
 " Think you that threats will turn the tide? 
 
 Think you my blood is milk of doe, 
 
 My passion but an April snow? — 
 
 If thou art earl in else than name 
 
 Then blades, not words, should be the game ;. 
 
 If Douglas blood course through thy vein, 
 
 Dare prove it on the open plain ! 
 
 Release my father at this gate — 
 
 Or Scotland's king shall arbitrate !" 
 
 At this the clan withdrew not quite 
 
 The distance of an arrow's flight. 
 
 XVII 
 
 Young Harold, favorite of the earl, 
 Of noble brow and sunny curl, 
 Did then the Douglas hotly urge 
 To let him straight the insult purge ; 
 
28 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 And smarting 'neath the stinging taunt, 
 
 Permission did the Douglas grant. 
 
 A moment more, the signal shrill, 
 
 A moment more, the court doth fill 
 
 With knight and squire, and restless steeds, 
 
 Which cavalcade young Harold leads, 
 
 Firm seated on the sturdy back 
 
 Of his well-groomed and peerless black ; 
 
 Strong armor guards his knightly form — 
 
 Oh may it guard his life blood warm ! 
 
 The drawbridge falls across the moat, 
 
 Upon the breeze the banners float, 
 
 While through the gate the troopers trot 
 
 Until they reach the grassy plot, 
 
 Where Lorna's clan impatient wait, 
 
 Regardless of their doom or fate. 
 
 Young Harold, slightly in advance, 
 
 Now curbed his steed and couched his lance. 
 
 His ringing voice then woke the deep 
 
 Where echoes are supposed to sleep : — 
 
 " Ha, chief, come forth and prove thy word, 
 
 No carpet knight thy boastings heard !" 
 
 XVIII 
 
 The youth's fair brow did Kincaid note, 
 His brawny arm, hugh chest and throat ; 
 The coat of mail his steady eye 
 Surveyed, and did each joint espy; 
 Marked now the steed the knight bestrode 
 Was larger than the bay he rode. — 
 His Duncan was of lighter mould, 
 A breed of hunters, famed of old, 
 Of cleaner limbs and finer head, 
 At every point a thoroughbred. 
 The knight had scarce the challenge made, 
 Ere Robert left the cavalcade. 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 29 
 
 And rode out on the plot between 
 
 The facing clans upon the green, 
 
 Till half a bowshot from the black 
 
 When this reply he sallied back; — 
 
 44 Knave, who art thou ? Where hides the earl 
 
 That he must send an o'ergrown churl ? 
 
 Come on ! For Hell is gaping wide ; 
 
 Urge on thy steed, and thither ride !" 
 
 At that did Harold spur the black — 
 
 Unmoved, the chief on Duncan's back. 
 
 Now leaning o'er the steed's dark crest, 
 The lance well gripped and in the rest, 
 The mailed knight did thund'ring ride, 
 Like some huge pine the rushing tide 
 Hurls crashing on the silent rock, 
 That threatening waits to greet the shock. 
 Woe, woe to him who bars the way — 
 His blood shall drench the gory clay ! 
 Just ere the goal did Harold gain, 
 The chieftain pulled on Duncan's rein ; 
 No stag had quicker leaped aside. 
 Its fatal aim the lance shot wide, 
 Nor scarcely grazed the ready shield, 
 When on his horse the chieftain wheeled ; 
 Like lightning flashed his sword on high, 
 And smiting down, cleft Harold's thigh. 
 A ruddy stream leaps from the wound ; 
 And faint, the knight falls to the ground. 
 A moment paused the raven steed, 
 Then neighing turned, and back did speed. 
 The clan's shrill yell then rent the air, 
 And woke the wolf within his lair. 
 
 XIX 
 
 Scarce had the black regained the train, 
 The drawbridge trembled 'neath the strain 
 
ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Of mounted horse that thundered o'er, 
 
 And down the slope a whirlwind bore. 
 
 The Douglas hoste did open wide, 
 
 And through their ranks a knight did ride ; 
 
 With gleaming axe swung o'er his head, 
 
 It seemed that hate and death had wed. 
 
 A ringing voice was heard to cry, — 
 
 " Ho, chief, revenge ! give way or die !" 
 
 The chieftain saw the knight advance, 
 
 And grasping well his trusty lance, 
 
 He cried, " O laggard, thou art late ! 
 
 Yet come and share thy vassal's fate !" 
 
 Then as the knight did reach the plain, 
 
 He gave the noble bay full rein. 
 
 It seemed some vengeful demon rode 
 
 Behind the steed each one bestrode, 
 
 And lashed it with a lash of fire 
 
 Till each partook its rider's ire. 
 
 The knight dashed midway 'cross the space 
 
 Until he saw his foe's dark face, 
 
 When towering high above his steed, 
 He hurled his axe, as well he need ; 
 Scarce had it swept half way its arc, 
 When Kincaid's lance shot to its mark. 
 Oh, but the chieftain's aim was sure ; 
 No knight his lance-thrust could endure ! 
 Well may the shaft bend with the strain ; 
 It brings a Douglas to the plain ! 
 A silence while the knights engage — 
 Such as precedes Thor's cry of rage ; 
 The god's wrath next all echoes drown, 
 As some proud oak falls crashing down. 
 His squires now spurred to Douglas' side, 
 Who, rising like a mad bull, cried, — 
 " Back knaves, back vassals, one and all — 
 Come you to shame a Douglas' fall ! 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 31 
 
 And thou Kincaid shalt dearly pay 
 The seeming glory of this day !" 
 " Earl Douglas " did the chief reply, 
 While dangerous gleamed his flashing eye, 
 4 ' On that glad day when next we meet, 
 But one shall live to boast defeat. 
 Harm but my father, ha, dost start? 
 This blade shall find thy boasting heart !" 
 
 XX 
 
 The shadows long had crept apace 
 As Lorna's clan their way retrace ; 
 But darker than the shades did fall, 
 A gloom pervaded Douglas Hall ; 
 Ay, darker than the dungeon well, 
 That gloom upon the Douglas fell. 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 33 
 
 PART III 
 
 I 
 
 ELLEN'S LULLABY 
 
 The moon is rising o'er the pine, 
 
 The deep blue lake is still, 
 Ten thousand stars in glory shine 
 
 On Lorna's glen and hill. 
 
 The flocks are sleeping in the fold, 
 
 The thrush upon her nest, 
 And I my nestling safely hold 
 
 And warm upon my breast. 
 
 Oh, hush each wild and rude alarm, 
 
 To Mother Mary pray, 
 Her image keeps my babe from harm, 
 
 By night as well as day ! 
 
 My bonnie bairn, why tremble so? 
 
 Nought but a door doth creak ; 
 What though the rising night wind blow 
 
 And through the forest shriek ? 
 
 What though the raven three times call, 
 The death hound mournful bay, 
 
 When Mary's image guards us all, 
 And keeps us safe till day ! 
 
 Then slumber on thy mother's arm, 
 
 Thy cheek upon her breast, 
 Her plaid shall fold thee close and warm, 
 
 And nought shall thee molest ! 
 
 II 
 
 When she had sung her lullaby, 
 Her little bairn asleep did lie ; 
 
34 ROBERT OF KINCAJD 
 
 And then as Ellen turned to pray 
 
 A shadow on her bosom lay, 
 
 Until it seemed its thick'ning gloom, 
 
 Would stifling fill the airy room. 
 
 And when she sought the bed's repose, 
 
 Her feverish lids refused to close. — 
 
 As Ellen restless lay awake, 
 
 She heard across the quiet lake 
 
 The red deer calling to his doe, 
 
 And caught the answer clear and low. 
 
 Oh cruel was the hand of Fate 
 
 That tore her from beside her mate ! — 
 
 But hark ! A cry rings through the glen — 
 
 A moment more, that cry again 
 
 Told that the foe besieged the gate ; 
 
 Foretold the doom that did await. 
 
 In agony doth Ellen call, 
 
 Then clasp her babe and swooning fall. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Oh woe to him that humbles pride, 
 But doth not stem its vengeful tide ! 
 Oh galling was the overthrow 
 That laid the earl before his foe ; 
 Twice bitter was the keen disgrace 
 That did his arrogance abase ! 
 Swift vengeance swore he on Kincaid, 
 And quickly planned a midnight raid. — 
 But it were shame for pen to tell 
 What fearful deeds that night befell ; 
 That woful night a doom did fall 
 On Lorna's glen and Kincaid's Hall ; 
 And long before the glow of morn 
 Red lurid flames the east adorn ; 
 And when the weary dawn doth break, 
 No cheery songs the sleeper wake : 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 35 
 
 But smoking wall of cot and shed, 
 While here and there the kine lie dead. 
 Where are the matrons, where the maids? 
 Like hunted deer the deepest glades 
 They sought, and there in terror hide 
 Till Lorna's clan shall homeward ride. 
 
 IV 
 
 The harper heard fair Ellen scream, 
 And waking from some troubled dream, 
 All reckless of his chilling years, 
 He hastens where the noise he hears. 
 Too late he reached the plundered nest, 
 The thieves had robbed it of its best, 
 And guilty bore the fainting prize 
 Before the old man's glowing eyes ; 
 His blade from out his sheath he flung, 
 And vengeful on the foremost swung. 
 But how could valor linked to age 
 With youth and brawn hope to engage? 
 Oh could Time's tide have backward rolled, 
 Another tale had now been told ! 
 Unequal was the struggle then — 
 For what could one opposed to ten? 
 That shrunken arm did parry well, 
 But age at length began to tell ; 
 The blows were plying fast and hard, 
 A sweeping stroke beat down his guard ; 
 A feint, and then a savage thrust — 
 The minstrel's blood now stains the dust. 
 In vain for succor Ellen cries, 
 They bear away the tender prize , 
 And ere the sun that night grew cold, 
 Fair Ellen lay in Douglas' hold. 
 
36 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Although his wound scarce gave him pain, 
 
 That night the earl wooed sleep in vain. 
 
 His knights and squires, how could he face, 
 
 'Fore whom he'd brooked such foul disgrace ! 
 
 His fevered mind then roamed the past 
 
 When love's elusive spell was cast, 
 
 And led to many a bootless chase 
 
 Whose quarry was a witching face. 
 
 Again he saw the humble knee, 
 
 Again he made the ardent plea, 
 
 Again he heard the bitter fate 
 
 From lips that smiling said, " Too late" ; 
 
 And he an Earl ! It passed belief — 
 
 Rejected for a Highland chief ! 
 
 The maid who dared an earl refuse 
 
 None other was than Ellen Bruce. 
 
 So Douglas' Earl paced to and fro, 
 
 His stubborn head now bended low, 
 
 His rugged hands oft clenched his throat, 
 
 Again each other fiercely smote, 
 
 And told a woful shipwreck tale — 
 
 Of reefs of pride, and passion's gale; 
 
 And as he felt the seething tide, 
 
 In bitter scorn, the Douglas cried : — 
 
 VI 
 
 " Oh Fate, that honors but to shame, 
 Makes men her playthings and her game ; 
 That lets us climb heights that appal 
 To mock us as we headlong fall ; 
 At dawn, a kingdom do we warn, 
 Her knights and peers we jesting scorn, 
 At noon, reject the proffered crown — 
 Ere night, a maid doth laugh us down ! — 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 37 
 
 Ah laugh me down i That laugh did breed 
 A poison that my hate did feed ; 
 The days are sheathed and bound is years, 
 The sowing's o'er, the harvest nears ; 
 To-night she wakes in yonder tower, 
 To-night she knows a Douglas' power ! 
 Ha, ha, Kincaid, how now, how now ! 
 The foot this time is on whose brow? 
 And yet how oft this stormy heart 
 Before her glance would stop and start ; 
 These lips from youth wont to command 
 Must tremble when they touched her hand, 
 Until methought I loved that maid, 
 And, fortune had not been a jade — 
 Away ! Love's but a sugared name 
 That tempts us from life's bitter game ; 
 'Tis lasting as an April frost, 
 Neath passion's fire 'tis melted, lost ! — 
 Enough ! — she shall be guarded well, 
 But by the powers of Earth and Hell, 
 Ere Kincaid look upon her face 
 Well shall he pay my foul disgrace !" 
 
 VII 
 
 Upon the morn of that sad day, 
 The room where Ellen sleepless lay, 
 Though bolt and bar did guard it well, 
 Was far removed from dungeon cell. 
 Its furniture grown dark with age 
 Might rouse the musings of a sage. 
 'Twas rumored that this massive^ chair 
 Had one time held a princess fair ; 
 While on that richly carven bed, 
 Where slumbered oft a princely head, 
 One night a legend doth endure 
 There slept a king and paramour. 
 
38 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 And were it not those bars of steel 
 Its guest indeed might truly feel 
 That she were Douglas' favored guest, 
 And honored with the castle's best. 
 
 VIII 
 
 Fair Ellen lay disconsolate, 
 
 And bitter mourned her cruel fate, 
 
 Until a knock upon the door ; 
 
 A step then crossed the oaken floor 
 
 And as she raised her weary head, 
 
 The keeper bowing, to her said : 
 
 u The earl craves madam to award 
 
 An audience to the castle's lord." 
 
 Her blue eyes on the speaker fell 
 
 Who seemed to shrink beneath their spell ; 
 
 " Earl Douglas craves, the Douglas sues ! 
 
 ' Tis now o'er late that I refuse ; 
 
 How can I grant, or how deny 
 
 While I a captive helpless lie ? 
 
 What Douglas will within this wall 
 
 How little can my word forestal ! 
 
 Say that his pleasure I await, 
 
 And joy to learn whate'er my fate." 
 
 IX 
 
 But as the keeper turned to go, 
 
 Her tide of life seemed ebbing low, 
 
 And when he closed and barred the door, 
 
 It seemed that tide would flow no more. 
 
 On lip and cheek a pallor lay 
 
 Far whiter than the breaker's spray. 
 
 Yet scarcely did the panel close 
 
 When Ellen clasped her heart and rose ; 
 
 With woman's fear she called a truce ; 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 
 
 Again the royal blood of Bruce 
 Brought courage to her wounded heart, 
 And nerved her well to play her part ; 
 Then as she pushed her careless hair ' 
 Off from that brow so cold and fair, 
 And slowly faced the opening door,' 
 No queen more tragic air e'er wore. 
 Then through the open portal came 
 The man that bore the castle's name, 
 In silence paused, and standing there 
 He motioned Ellen to a chair ; 
 And when his steady eye had read 
 Each potent sign, he slowly said : 
 
 X 
 
 44 Think not I come to use my power ; 
 'T is not the place, the time or hour. 
 Scarce have I dreamed since that lost day 
 A Bruce beneath this roof should stay." 
 44 A Bruce ! Dost think I'm still a maid? 
 I glory in the name Kincaid ; 
 Forego those words thou dost not feel, 
 Pray let thy speech my fate reveal. 
 I know thy thought, I know thy heart ; 
 Knowst thou, that I shall play my part ! " 
 44 Madam, these words of mine betray 
 My inmost thought as yon clear ray 
 Reveals this room. Misjudge me not — 
 Though one dark day I've scarce forgot, 
 Think not 'gainst thee, I've nursed a hate 
 That brought about this untoward fate. 
 
 Curse as I have the name Kincaid, 
 Swear as I did upon this blade 
 To blot and tear that hated name 
 From out the book of Scotland's fame, 
 Still ringing in my ears I heard 
 
 39 
 
40 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 That other unforgotten word ; 
 That name that emblemed hope and bliss — 
 Now forged like hilt and blade with his. 
 And when for vengeance I have cried, 
 That name did suage my wounded pride, 
 Till high resolves bore sterile seed, 
 And vows no longer bred the deed. 
 Then Kincaid dared a Douglas' wrath, 
 And fury's hounds fell on his path. 
 If there is aught, forgive — " " Forgive ! 
 First make my murdered baby live ; 
 Rebuild those walls now black and low, 
 Mute witness of my speechless woe 3 
 Forgive ! And I that chieftain's wife ! 
 Ask first my honor and my life ! " 
 
 XI 
 
 O'er Douglas' brow now formed a cloud 
 
 Far blacker than a funeral shroud ; 
 
 " Enough? " he cried, " the dream doth break, 
 
 The shadows pass, and I awake. 
 
 I proffered peace ; thou mocked with scorn, 
 
 From this and hate, revenge is born ! 
 
 Thy fiery words my heart have steeled, 
 
 Whose iron once would bend and yield. 
 
 Know that thy chieftain lives — as yet — 
 
 Ay lives, till on his heart I whet 
 
 The fury of this hate — " " Proud earl, 
 
 From Heaven's wall a King did hurl 
 
 A rebel Prince to deepest Hell ! 
 
 Know Scotland hath a king ; think well ! 
 
 I shall forefend the pending storm — 
 
 Yet shall I clasp my chieftain's form, 
 
 Yet Douglas, shall I soothe his brow ! 
 
 I've sworn 't, and Heaven hears my vow ! " 
 
 As Douglas faced the door to go, 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 41 
 
 He turned and said in accents low : — 
 
 " Thinkst thou that threats shall thwart my will ? 
 
 Know, madam, I am Douglas still. 
 
 Though all of Scotland on me wait, 
 
 It shall not stay thy chieftain's fate 
 
 ! » 
 
 XII 
 
 The door swung to ; bolts shot to place. 
 
 As to and fro the guard did pace, 
 
 He heard a shriek that chilled the stars, 
 
 But ere he could undo the bars, 
 
 A woman's voice in song arose 
 
 Whose wailing notes his courage froze ; 
 
 It seemed it was some lost soul's breath 
 
 That echoed from the hills of death. 
 
 XIII 
 
 THE SONG 
 
 My little rose is blighted, 
 The rose I once delighted, 
 
 All too soon ; 
 Life's silken skein is tangled, 
 Her happy bells are jangled, 
 
 Out of tune. 
 
 They say love's crown is shattered, 
 The golden veil is tattered 
 
 Long ere noon ; 
 Oh rose, my rose in sorrow, 
 To be forgot to-morrow — 
 
 Oh what a blessed boon ! 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 43 
 
 PART IV 
 
 I 
 
 Now that the chief unhorsed the Earl, 
 The clan its streaming flags unfurl, 
 And as their steeds they homeward turn, 
 With loud huzzas the Douglas spurn. 
 Nor did they pause to feed or rest, 
 Till long the sun had gilt the west. 
 Elate, they travelled toward the north ; 
 Until they reached the wooded Forth ; 
 And there within the friendly shade 
 Of a secluded neighboring glade, 
 The chieftain bade the men alight 
 And there encamp them for the night. 
 In vain that night the chief would sleep ; 
 The drowsy honrs would halting creep, 
 While on the ground he restless lay 
 And waited for the laggard day. 
 The longest trail at last will end. 
 The tallest pine to earth will bend ; 
 The highesf tide at last ebbs low, 
 The spring sometime will cease to flow ; 
 The longest night at last is o'er, 
 And sunrise breaks on Forth's fair shore. 
 
 II 
 
 Upon the sward the sunbeams dance, 
 Each grass blade shines a jewelled lance ; 
 When through the mists a form appears ; 
 Scanned by each face it slowly nears, 
 And as it hastes with broken stride, 
 One arm hangs helpless at the side, 
 The cloak is stained with gore and mud, 
 The beard once white is drenched with blood. 
 
44 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 The clan now stare with wond'ring eyes, 
 
 And scarce their harper recognize. 
 
 As in their ready arms he falls, 
 
 For Lorna's chief he feebly calls. 
 
 Now Robert clasps the fainting seer, 
 
 And whispers words of welcome cheer, 
 
 Then bathes that brow, those fevered lips, 
 
 Binds up the gaping wound that drips. 
 
 At length life's ebbing tide returns ; 
 
 An afterglow in each eye burns 
 
 As to the chief he doth relate 
 
 The story of his woful fate. 
 
 Thrice as he told the direful tale 
 
 Life's feeble current seemed to fail. 
 
 Mute, bent the chief to catch each word, 
 
 While tree and sky seemed dim and blurred ; 
 
 Then as the harper neared the close, 
 
 He slowly to his feet arose, 
 
 And leaning 'gainst the chieftain's breast, 
 
 He thus the list'ning clan addressed : — 
 
 III 
 
 " Oh Lorna's clan, oh gallant *men, 
 Who love your homes and love your glen, 
 How can you ever sheathe the blade 
 While lives a foe who marred your glade ! 
 Avenge, avenge the coward deed, 
 And for each dead make twenty bleed ; 
 Oh rid the land at one sure blow 
 Of Lorna's curse, of Scotland's foe ! 
 For me, nor son, nor daughter grieves — 
 The aged tree is bare of leaves ; 
 My years are white with winter's snow, 
 And yet mefeels the zephyrs blow 
 From some far field I cannot see, 
 Deep bowered in eternity. 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 45 
 
 My path hath led me to that gate 
 That somewhere each one doth await ; 
 And now I see it open wide, 
 Though what lies on the other side 
 I little know — yet have no fear; 
 God is the same, or there or here." 
 
 IV 
 
 He paused ; his face turns ashen pale, 
 
 His aged limbs beneath him fail ; 
 
 When unheard voices rouse his ear, 
 
 When unseen throngs 'fore him appear ; 
 
 And battling 'gainst the fatal tide, 
 
 He half uprose, and feebly cried : — 
 
 " Ho, Ellen ! quick, my harp now bring; 
 
 A song of victory must I sing ; 
 
 Oh haste ! the clans are gathered here, 
 
 I see their plaids, I hear them cheer. — 
 
 Who holds my arm ? What makes me choke ! 
 
 My harp ! My — Oh — the chords — are — broke ! 
 
 And I — and I — my song — is — o'er ! 
 
 And Lorna's Harper spake no more. 
 
 t » 
 
 The chief bent o'er the lifeless form, 
 
 A moment pressed that brow still warm, 
 
 And said : — "Old friend, thy soul shall guide 
 
 My bairn's frail craft on death's dark tide." 
 
 Then rising up with misty eyes, 
 
 To all the clan the chieftain cries : — 
 
 " Draw near, and form the holy square ; 
 
 Let every man his broadsword bare ; 
 
 Now on each blade, thy vengeance swear ! " 
 
 The men obeyed, and nothing loath 
 
 Each clansman took the sacred oath. 
 
 Again he spoke : — " Bear home the dead ! 
 
 'T is fit that death and ruin wed. 
 
46 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 The blackened walls shall be his pyre, 
 
 And smould'ring roofs shall feed the fire ! 
 
 Go, Lorna's sons ; keep well the glen ! 
 
 I seek the king, nor come again 
 
 Until to say, 4 The tyrant sleeps 
 
 Whose red hand made the orphan weep/ 
 
 Till meeting Douglas face to face, 
 
 This blade hath purged our foul disgrace." 
 
 VI 
 
 The sun just marked the midday hour, 
 
 When Kincaid spied old Stirling's tower 
 
 That rose beside the lordly Forth, 
 
 The pride and bulwark of the North. 
 
 And ere the shadows eastward swing 
 
 The chieftain stood 'fore Scotland's king, 
 
 The youthful king at length surveyed 
 
 The noble form beneath the plaid. 
 
 The chieftain's name seemed to awake 
 
 Some memory, as the monarch spake : 
 
 " Kincaid ! Methinks I know the name ; 
 
 A chief in Perth did bear the same ; 
 
 A valiant man who helped run down 
 
 The fiends that wrecked my father's crown. 
 
 Dost know the chief? " " Know him ! Oh sire, 
 
 His blood now sets these veins afire. 
 
 My father did thy father's fate 
 
 Avenge. I hope 't is not o'er late 
 
 His son should seek thy father's son 
 
 To right a deed unjustly done?" 
 
 " Methought that debt long since repaid " 
 
 Said James, " With gold sent to the glade. 
 
 But kings are thought to hold the key 
 
 That opes a bursting treasury. 
 
 What sorry wrong doth hurt thee now ; 
 
 Hath some one stol'n thy new milch cow? " 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 47 
 
 VII 
 
 44 My liege, 't is not of cattle thieves 
 I speak, unless each son that grieves 
 And chafes against that iron hand 
 Must bear the sluggish oxen's brand ! " 
 " Speak not in parables, be brief ! " 
 44 1 will, — that master cattle thief 
 Is William, Douglas' Earl — " " A plague 
 On thee," the monarch cried, u Why drag 
 Before me like a hellish fate 
 That name of names thou knowst I hate ! 
 Away ! Thy feuds upon thy head — 
 Those thorns that deck a monarch's bed ! " 
 " My king, you do me grievous wrong. 
 Have Ross and Douglas grown so strong 
 That Scotland's King pales at a name, 
 And fears unfold a deed of shame ! 
 
 "Methought the king would lend his eye 
 
 And mark the accusing arrow fly, 
 
 However lofty be its aim, 
 
 However dangerous the game ! " 
 
 Hot flushed the monarch's boyish cheek, 
 
 As he controlled himself to speak : — 
 
 44 Proceed ! The king forgets the sting 
 
 Thy kind insinuations bring. 
 
 The poorest peasant in this realm 
 
 May heap his wrongs, though they o'erwhelm 
 
 The crown. The king so loves, you know, 
 
 To share his children's yoke of woe. 
 
 Proceed ; the arraigning shaft let fly 
 
 Wherever may the quarry lie ! 
 
 Proceed ! " 4< My liege, I wronged thee, and 
 
 I crave forgiveness at thy hand." 
 
 4 *'Tis past; go on! " 
 
48 ROBERT OF KING AID 
 
 VIII 
 THE CHIEFTAIN'S STORY 
 
 "No fireside tale 
 I speak to make some fair maid pale. 
 Since first my father was the head 
 Of Lorna, and her forays led, 
 His loyalty to Scotland's king 
 Has been untarnished as thi^ ring. 
 The Douglas rule he oft denied, 
 And fearful viewed his growing pride 
 That like some swelling torrent bore 
 And menaced all who stood before ; 
 Unless the flood, some royal hand 
 Should bind, ere it o'erwhelmed the land. — 
 My father's course the Douglas vexed, 
 Who sought to find some vain pretext 
 To seize the chief, that dared defy 
 And laugh a Douglas in the eye. 
 The time did come a year ago, 
 As Kincaid bent his trusty bow 
 On deer the Douglas claimed to own. 
 He seized the chief who fought alone ; — 
 If still he breathes, it is the cold 
 And festered air of Douglas' hold. 
 
 But two days since, with threescore men 
 
 I left my home and native glen. 
 
 I sought the Earl and did demand 
 
 That he release my father's hand, 
 
 Renounce all claim o'er Lorna's glade, 
 
 Or dare to meet me blade to blade. 
 
 My righteous claim the Douglas spurned, 
 
 And all his venom on me turned. 
 
 We met ; and 'fore the knights around 
 
 I forced the Earl from horse to ground. 
 
 That night dire vengeance Douglas planned ; 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 49 
 
 To Lorna's glade he sent his band. 
 
 Where happy homes did greet the eye, 
 
 Now blackened walls stare at the sky. 
 
 Oh sire, bear with me now I pray, 
 
 If woman's weakness I betray . 
 
 We both are in our May of life ; 
 
 Your liege doth boast a noble wife, — 
 
 I, too, did claim a hand more dear 
 
 To me than music to the ear, 
 
 Than light on which my sad eyes feast, 
 
 Or prayer to holy nun or priest. 
 
 My sweet flower, Douglas seized, and tore 
 
 Its roots from out my heart's red core ! 
 
 You have an heir — I had a son. 
 
 What price shall pay the ruin done ! " 
 
 IX 
 
 JAMES 
 
 4t Enough ! Were Douglas ten times more 
 Than e'er his bravest hopes dared soar, 
 He should account himself to me 
 And make a bounteous remedy ! 
 Remain 'neath Stirling's roof to-night, 
 And sure as morning's dawn brings light 
 Thy noble wife and misused sire 
 Shall greet thee by this very fire. 
 The morn shall see Sir Patrick Gray, 
 Thy father's cousin, on his way 
 With mandate for the twain's release ; 
 When he returns, thy woes shall cease." 
 
 X 
 
 Next morn the Captain of the Guard 
 His faithful steed was spurring hard ; 
 When noon was marked on Heaven's dial, 
 He spied old Lanark's massive pile. 
 
50 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 Arriving 'fore the cumbrous hold, 
 He signalled to the warder old, 
 Who raised the ponderous gate of wood, 
 And soon before the Earl he stood. 
 
 As Douglas recognized his face, 
 
 He smiled and said with pleasing grace : — 
 
 " I welcome thee, Sir Patrick Gray ; 
 
 Old Time has wheeled a sinuous way 
 
 Since last thy rugged face I scanned, 
 
 And grasped thee by thy honest hand ; 
 
 Ay, since his Majesty did deign 
 
 To send such guest to entertain." 
 
 " My lord, your welcome honors me 
 
 Far more than I deserve to be. 
 
 I come on business from the king, 
 
 Who ordered me this letter bring." 
 
 As clouds will cross a June-day sky 
 
 A doubt flashed o'er the Douglas' eye. 
 
 "Your pardon, Captain, my repast 
 
 I have just done, while yet you fast. 
 
 To press at once thy mission's aim, 
 
 The while thy paunch played rebel's game, 
 
 Were more ungallant, far, indeed, 
 
 Than race a lean and well-fed steed. 
 
 Partake my meat, imbibe my wine, 
 
 And then to business we'll incline." 
 
 XI 
 
 Thus urged, he scarcely could refuse. 
 Well Douglas proved he could amuse 
 With mirthful tale and quip and jest, 
 And princely entertain his guest. 
 Yet as each tale he did relate 
 He pondered o'er affairs of State ; 
 And laughing at some merry jest, 
 The captain's mission Douglas guessed, 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 51 
 
 He called a lackey standing near, 
 
 Whispered an order in his ear ; 
 
 Then as the meal drew to a close, 
 
 The earl half smiling did propose 
 
 A health to Fate that thus did bring 
 
 His guest as envoy from the king ; 
 
 Then to the business' happy end 
 
 Another health its cheer did lend. 
 
 This done Sir Patrick handed o'er 
 
 The mandate from the king he bore ; 
 
 The Douglas slowly read it through ; 
 
 No furtive sign revealed he knew 
 
 Or guessed the message he had read. 
 
 As they arose, he smiled and said : — 
 
 4 ' A weighty debt I owe to you 
 
 Who bear from James such gracious news ; 
 
 His fair request, I glad obey — 
 
 Unless some higher power gainsay." 
 
 XII 
 
 Sir Patrick took the proffered arm ; 
 
 No shadow did his soul alarm. 
 
 Descending to the lawn before 
 
 The stairway from the hall's broad door, 
 
 They saw a mantle there outspread, 
 
 By which they paused ; the Douglas said : — 
 
 " I fear, Sir Knight, you 're somewhat late ; 
 
 Swift falls the cunning knife of Fate ; 
 
 For sleeps upon this velvet bed — 
 
 Kincaid" (he raised the robe of red) 
 
 ».' But ah ! He seems to lack — a head ! 
 
 Perhaps while dallying o'er our w T ine, 
 
 The old chief paid the tapster's fine ! " 
 
 " My noble Earl, take care what jest 
 
 You play upon your former guest ! " 
 
 " There, there, be calm ; what is, must be. 
 
52 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 The joke your king can not but see. 
 
 The carcass, pray, would fatten crows ! — 
 
 Our business now, I see you'd close. 
 
 44 Thy horse now waits by yonder fount. 
 We '11 thither go. — I prithee mount ! 
 Ah, yes, the king did, too, request 
 That Ellen cease to be my guest. 
 I know though loath to lose the fair, 
 No king would miss a morsel rare. 
 Sir Knight, you see the postern gates ; 
 There on her palfrey she awaits. 
 Unto thy trusty gallant hand 
 I now resign the choice command. 
 Pray take this lily of the North ; 
 Yet, Patrick, wax not sore or wroth 
 Should not the flower be overfresh ! — 
 A rose's thorns will mar the flesh ; 
 When lilies, roses do embrace, 
 The lily should submit with grace ; 
 And he mistakes, who thinks to scorn 
 The Douglas' rose and 'scape its thorn ! " 
 
 XIII 
 
 His horse Sir Patrick sprung astride, 
 And leaning toward the earl, he cried : — 
 44 If I survive this day, my lord, 
 Your work shall reap a sure reward ! " 
 44 There lies the gate ; Sir Patrick, ride ! 
 Lest it should close on thee inside. 
 Tell James how sorely I did try 
 With his fair pleasure to comply." 
 
 XIV 
 
 The faithful knight did then convey 
 His woful charge the weary way 
 That 'twixt the distant castles lay. 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 53 
 
 Arriving at old Stirling's door, 
 He gives the bruised flower he bore 
 Into the queen's most tender care, 
 Who wept to see a wreck so fair. 
 Then sought the king, and worn and pale 
 Did tell his mission's wretched tale. 
 
 Intent James listened to each word ; 
 
 And each disgrace, he trembling heard, 
 
 Did fan the kindled fires of wrath 
 
 That menaced all who barred their path ; 
 
 And when the knight of Ellen spoke, 
 
 The king his threat'ning silence broke : — 
 
 " Fiend, who helpless innocence defiles, 
 
 Who outrage upon insult piles, 
 
 Look well ! The mountain of thy crime, 
 
 On which thou dost aspire to climb 
 
 And seize a throne, the king displace, 
 
 Is toppling on its rotten base ! 
 
 Beware, thou banqueter of blood, 
 
 Thou dost not loose a dooming flood 
 
 Whose hot red waves shall drag thee down ! 
 
 What ! Douglas jeer the Stuart's crown ! 
 
 By Heaven, he answers me — or Hell 
 
 Shall deck me with a jester's bell ! " 
 
 XV 
 
 Next day a messenger was sent, 
 Who from the king to Douglas went ; 
 A mandate did the envoy bear 
 That bade the earl forthwith repair 
 To Stirling's castle on the Clyde, 
 Where Scotland's Court did then abide. 
 The messenger did also bring 
 Safe conduct signed by James as king. 
 When Douglas read both papers through, 
 His swarthy forehead knotted grew, 
 
54 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 And turning with impatient tread, 
 
 He stopped where Harold stood and said : — 
 
 "So, ho ! They think to silence fear ; 
 
 And so sweet words the mandate smear. 
 
 Methinks I see shrewd Crichton's hand 
 
 Behind the scenes so nicely planned. 
 
 Ah, Chancellor, thou'd best take care 
 
 When foxes would a lion snare ! 
 
 What, touch the person of an earl? 
 
 The flag of civil strife unfurl ! 
 
 No ! James, though more than half a fool, 
 
 Is not so plastic weak a tool 
 
 To wage a throne upon one throw." 
 
 Harold: 
 
 u Yet think you, Earl, 't were wise to go? " 
 " Go ! go ! Ay, Douglas' earl should go, 
 Though Stirling's hall should choke and swell 
 With hired assassins fresh from hell ! 
 When flesh and blood this hand appal, 
 Then let the House of Douglas fall ! 
 But ere that sorry day shall break 
 Old Scotland from her sloth shall wake, 
 And recognize her rightful king ; — 
 Yet, yet, the sceptre Fate shall bring ! " 
 
 XVI 
 
 " I hope, my lord, the day is near." 
 
 " Ay, Harold ; yet sometimes I fear. — 
 
 Oh list ! Last night I dreamed I stood 
 
 Upon a cliff that had withstood 
 
 The wreck of time, and rose beside 
 
 Some unknown stormy tide. 
 
 The gloomy ocean waste I scanned 
 
 Until methought a shadowy hand 
 
 Bore upward through the mist that gleamed 
 
 And mutely proffered me what seemed 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 55 
 
 A crown of some fair paradise, 
 Whose radiant beauty seared my eyes. 
 
 " As o'er the cliff I then did peer, 
 
 The burning crown seemed tempting near ; 
 
 But as far down the ledge I crept, 
 
 An angel's wing did intercept 
 
 The gift supreme ; and when I tried 
 
 To push the blood-red wing aside, 
 
 Oh God, I saw the angel's face, 
 
 And shrieking fell through endless space, — 
 
 And woke. Oh, those reproachful eyes 
 
 Yet seem to stay a kingdom's prize ! " 
 
 " My lord, the dream were strange indeed, 
 
 Yet fears from phantoms should not breed. 
 
 Hast thou forgot Kincaid doth live? " 
 
 u Kincaid ! I had thought to forgive 
 
 The braggart chief. 'T is not the time ; 
 
 He fawns on James, and so would climb 
 
 To power. I'll clip the falcon's wings 
 
 And slit the throat that dauntless sings. — 
 
 Harold, our steeds ! Ay, tempests blow ! 
 
 Lay forests, towers, and steeples low ; 
 
 To-night, to Stirling's Court I go ! " 
 
 XVII 
 
 THE STRICKEN DEER 
 
 Within a rare old chamber lay 
 Poor Ellen near the close of day. 
 Through gothic windows' quaint old glass, 
 Fantastic lights and shadows pass. 
 The queen's own maid and nurse attend; 
 Yet human hands but ill can mend 
 The hurts that prey upon the mind, 
 And wounded hearts no lint can bind. — 
 A foot now echoes on the floor ; 
 
 LoiO. 
 
56 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 A hand is heard upon the door. 
 
 The nurse did open it with care, 
 
 And saw the chieftain standing there. 
 
 She lifts her hand and whispers low : — 
 
 41 Take off those boots or walk more slow — 
 
 The poor sick child is sleeping now." 
 
 He steps inside, then with a bow 
 
 Points toward the door. The nurse well knew 
 
 The look and sign, and so withdrew. 
 
 The oaken portal then swung to. 
 
 As Robert heard the lock's sharp click, 
 
 It seemed to stab him to the quick ; 
 
 With broken step he left the door 
 And aged crossed the chamber floor, 
 Until he reached the bed where lay 
 His world within that bit of clay. 
 He stood with head bowed o'er his breast, 
 On which his folded arms did rest, 
 A statue, save the heaving breath — 
 His white drawn face so like to death. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 At last the troubled sleep did break ; 
 Like startled fawn did Ellen wake, 
 And springing from the fevered couch, 
 Did by the window trembling crouch, 
 And 'neath the drapery try to hide ; 
 The while, in plaintive tones she cried : — 
 li My pretty flowers, to fade so young ! 
 He tore them from my heart and flung 
 Them in the dust, and there they lie 
 So soiled ! Oh there my babies die ! — 
 I'm cold ! Oh how the wind doth blow ; 
 The rain beats in upon me so ! 
 Just see, my cheeks are dripping w r et ! " 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 57 
 
 Kincaid: 
 
 44 Ellen, Ellen, do you forget 
 
 This voice that calls thy name in vain, 
 
 These eyes that sorrow blinds with pain? " 
 
 Like wounded dove her eyes did seek 
 
 Unknowing his. Shriek followed shriek : — 
 
 44 The fiend is come again to seize 
 
 My flowers, and let me naked freeze ! " 
 
 Then pleading, crept and clasped his knees, — 
 
 44 Be not so cruel, Douglas, please ! 
 
 My chief, my Robert, no, no, no ! 
 
 You shall not harm him, Douglas, no ! 
 
 Curse me, kill me, — but touch him not ; 
 
 Tear first these arms with tongs red hot ! 
 
 Pile mountains on me from above, 
 
 I'll gnaw them through and find my love ! 
 
 I beg, oh beg of you just let 
 
 Me touch his hand with mine and wet 
 
 My burning lips upon his cheek — 
 
 Just once ; then stab me ere I speak ! " 
 
 The chief then loosed her death-like grasp, 
 
 And to his heart did straining clasp 
 
 The helpless form, yet no word spoke, 
 
 But softly did the white brow stroke ; 
 
 Then laid her on the spotless bed. 
 
 Beneath his touch the fever fled, 
 
 For as she now unclasped her eyes, 
 
 She rising, to him springs and cries : — 
 
 44 Oh ! oh ! Heaven breaks ! Oh happy morn ! 
 
 Robert ! Robert ! I — am — so — tired ! " 
 
 Her hand that blindly sought his brow 
 
 Did helpless drop; nor spoke she now. 
 
58 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 XIX 
 
 The lifeless form, the chieftain, dazed, 
 Laid on the bed, then stood and gazed 
 As one who saw the last star's light 
 Burn out, and leave eternal night. 
 A mighty tremor shook his form, 
 As some huge oak outlives the storm ; 
 One haunting look his eyes did take, 
 Then, hand on dagger's hilt, he spake : - 
 "The ways do part; my path is straight 
 Nor life, nor death, nor damning fate 
 Shall turn or stop me on the way 
 Till that arch fiend his doom shall pay ! - 
 Oh Hell, thou hast well done thy worst ; 
 'T is life not death that now is cursed ! 
 Pains, fears and tortures, I defy ! 
 My arms embrace thee till I die ! — 
 Oh Ellen, sleep, nor yet awake ; 
 Thy soul, I yet shall overtake ! " 
 
 XX 
 
 THE DOOM 
 
 When Douglas did to Stirling go 
 He was received with studied show 
 Of grace by James, who did invite 
 The earl to dine with him that night. 
 A royal banquet was outspread, 
 And merrily the moments sped. 
 The dinner o'er, the earl arose 
 And Stuart's health did there propose ; 
 Then to a secret council hall 
 That fronted Stirling's outer wall, 
 James and his honored guest withdrew, 
 And also Grey and Crichton too ; 
 And when did close the oaken door, 
 A form he had not seen before 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 5» 
 
 Did Douglas note. A black robe fell 
 
 From head to foot, concealing well 
 
 The one it cloaked, who stood apart 
 
 Head bowed, and arms crossed o'er his heart. 
 
 XXI 
 
 The king and Douglas stood one side 
 
 Conversing low, when James replied : — 
 
 " 'T is not enough that you atone 
 
 The bloody crimes you 'fore us own ! 
 
 I pledge to you my royal word 
 
 I scarce believed when first I heard 
 
 That Douglas would confederate 
 And form a league against the State." 
 
 44 My liege, that bond was drawn and signed 
 
 'Gainst common enemies combined. — 
 
 Each loyal hand that there did guide 
 
 The pen, supports the Stuart's side." 
 
 44 Deeds, Douglas, deeds, not high-blown words 
 
 Shall be received where subjects erred. 
 
 The league must be renounced !" t4 4 Must,' sire, 
 
 Not 4 must ' ! — your leave, and I retire ! " 
 
 44 Stay, earl ! When treason lurks the land 
 
 'Tis time the king should show his hand. 
 
 I say that bond shall be renounced — 
 
 And first by you ! I have pronounced." 
 
 4 4 What ! Cries of 4 Treason ' ! Coward's name 
 
 For deeds that win immortal fame ! 
 
 Shall Douglas wrong his friend 
 
 Because he fears the king offend, 
 
 And dare not stay a boyish whim ! " 
 
 XXII 
 
 Each face became more dark and grim 
 As James cried, -"Ha! your king defy 
 And spit upon ! Then, traitor, die ! " 
 
60 ROBERT OF KINCAID 
 
 But ere the king could make a pass 
 
 A mantled form shot through the mass 
 
 And cried, — "Back!" "Ha! I see ! a plot ! 
 
 A hired assassin James has got ! 
 
 Beware ! No Douglas ever fell 
 
 But dragged his murderer down to Hell ! " 
 
 Cried Douglas, as he did retreat 
 
 Against the farthest window seat. 
 
 " Assassin? No ! Look on this face ! 
 
 Draw ! draw ! Or Hell thou shalt disgrace ! " 
 
 When vengeance lights the Douglas' eyes 
 
 As " Ha ! Kincaid ! " he maddened cries. 
 
 As James and Grey were pressing near 
 
 As if to aid or interfere, 
 
 " Stand back ! Stand back !" did cry Kincaid — 
 
 " His blood would foul a Christian blade ; 
 
 Back ! At thy peril interfere ! 
 
 His heart is mine — I bought it dear. 
 
 Foul monster ! I would follow thee 
 
 'Cross burning continents, wade seas 
 
 Of blood, ere thou should 'scape my hand ; 
 
 Thou night that darkens all the land ! " 
 
 XXIII 
 
 Though dusk did shroud the fatal hall, 
 Dark shadows loomed against the wall 
 As lightning from the blades did flash ; 
 No sound was heard but click and clash. 
 From each the blood did jet and stream, 
 Till more like demons they did seem ; 
 And each new gash the blades did make 
 Some fiercer hate seemed to awake. 
 Kincaid now made a daring lunge ; 
 Through Douglas' heart his blade did plunge. 
 No cry escaped the Douglas' lips. 
 The chieftain on the blood now slips, 
 
A TALE OF THE DOUGLAS 61 
 
 And to the gory floor he falls ; 
 He strives to rise, and gasping calls : — 
 4 4 'T is dark — my sword ! — the fiend is low ! 
 Ellen — thy hand — oh ! lead me — oh ! " 
 Then spake the king to those around : — 
 44 Throw out the traitor to the ground ! 
 Now Scotland's rid her greatest foe, 
 Saved from rebellion's doom of woe." 
 Then turning where the chieftain lay ; — 
 44 There lies within that piece of bleeding clay 
 A heart whose fellow doth not live to-day ; 
 A monument his grateful king shall raise, 
 To unborn ages it shall bear his praise." 
 
NOV 23 1S03 
 
mmSMY 0F CONGRESS 
 
 iMimnu 
 
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