Yet still he stood before her,and held her by the arm,with a pressure which,though insufficient to give her pain,made her sensible of his great personal strength,his hand closing on her like the gripe of a manacle.
"Shall I take the harp?"she said,in a timid voice;"is--is the shadow falling upon you?"
Instead of replying,he led her to the window of the apartment,which commanded a view of the field of the slain,with all its horrors.It was thick spread with dead and wounded,and the spoilers were busy tearing the clothes from the victims of war and feudal ambition,with as much indifference as if they had not been of the same species,and themselves exposed,perhaps to-morrow,to the same fate.
"Does the sight please you?"said M'Aulay.
"It is hideous!"said Annot,covering her eyes with her hands;
"how can you bid me look upon it?"
"You must be inured to it,"said he,"if you remain with this destined host--you will soon have to search such a field for my brother's corpse--for Menteith's--for mine---but that will be a more indifferent task--You do not love me!"
"This is the first time you have taxed me with unkindness,"said Annot,weeping."You are my brother--my preserver--my protector --and can I then BUT love you?--But your hour of darkness is approaching,let me fetch my harp--"
"Remain,"said Allan,still holding her fast;"be my visions from heaven or hell,or from the middle sphere of disembodied spirits --or be they,as the Saxons hold,but the delusions of an over-heated fancy,they do not now influence me;I speak the language of the natural,of the visible world.--You love not me,Annot--you love Menteith--by him you are beloved again,and Allan is no more to you than one of the corpses which encumber yonder heath."
It cannot be supposed that this strange speech conveyed any new information to her who was thus addressed.No woman ever lived who could not,in the same circumstances,have discerned long since the state of her lover's mind.But by thus suddenly tearing off the veil,thin as it was,Allan prepared her to expect consequences violent in proportion to the enthusiasm of his character.She made an effort to repel the charge he had stated.
"You forget,"she said,"your own worth and nobleness when you insult so very helpless a being,and one whom fate has thrown so totally into your power.You know who and what I am,and how impossible it is that Menteith or you can use language of affection to me,beyond that of friendship.You know from what unhappy race I have too probably derived my existence."
"I will not believe it,"said Allan,impetuously;"never flowed crystal drop from a polluted spring."
"Yet the very doubt,"pleaded Annot,"should make you forbear to use this language to me."
"I know,"said M'Aulay,"it places a bar between us--but I know also that it divides you not so inseparably from Menteith.--Hear me,my beloved Annot!--leave this scene of terrors and danger--go with me to Kintail--I will place you in the house of the noble Lady of Seaforth--or you shall be removed in safety to Icolmkill,where some women yet devote themselves to the worship of God,after the custom of our ancestors."
"You consider not what you ask of me,"replied Annot;"to undertake such a journey under your sole guardianship,were to show me less scrupulous than maiden ought.I will remain here,Allan--here under the protection of the noble Montrose;and when his motions next approach the Lowlands,I will contrive some proper means to relieve you of one,who has,she knows not how,become an object of dislike to you."
Allan stood as if uncertain whether to give way to sympathy with her distress,or to anger at her resistance.
"Annot,"he said,"you know too well how little your words apply to my feelings towards you--but you avail yourself of your power,and you rejoice in my departure,as removing a spy upon your intercourse with Menteith.But beware both of you,"he added,in a stern tone;"for when was it ever heard that an injury was offered to Allan M'Aulay,for which he exacted not tenfold vengeance?"
So saying,he pressed her arm forcibly,pulled the bonnet over his brows,and strode out of the apartment.
CHAPTER XXI.
--After you're gone,I grew acquainted with my heart,and search'd,What stirr'd it so.--Alas!I found it love.
Yet far from lust,for could I but have lived In presence of you,I had had my end.PHILASTER.
Annot Lyle had now to contemplate the terrible gulf which Allan M'Aulay's declaration of love and jealousy had made to open around her.It seemed as if she was tottering on the very brink of destruction,and was at once deprived of every refuge,and of all human assistance.She had long been conscious that she loved Menteith dearer than a brother;indeed,how could it be otherwise,considering their early intimacy,the personal merit of the young nobleman,his assiduous attentions,--and his infinite superiority in gentleness of disposition,and grace of manners,over the race of rude warriors with whom she lived?But her affection was of that quiet,timid,meditative character,which sought rather a reflected share in the happiness of the beloved object,than formed more presumptuous or daring hopes.A little Gaelic song,in which she expressed her feelings,has been translated by the ingenious and unhappy Andrew M'Donald;and we willingly transcribe the lines:--
Wert thou,like me,in life's low vale,With thee how blest,that lot I'd share;
With thee I'd fly wherever gale Could waft,or bounding galley bear.
But parted by severe decree,Far different must our fortunes prove;
May thine be joy--enough for me To weep and pray for him I love.
The pangs this foolish heart must feel,When hope shall be forever flown,No sullen murmur shall reveal,No selfish murmurs ever own.
Nor will I through life's weary years,Like a pale drooping mourner move,While I can think my secret tears May wound the heart of him I love.
