were satisfied that she must have subsisted upon the milk of the wild
does, or been nourished by the fairies, or supported in some manner
equally marvellous. Her re-appearance was more easily accounted for. She
had seen from the thicket the milking of the cows, to superintend which
had been her favourite domestic employment, and the habit had prevailed
even in her deranged state of mind.

"In due season the unfortunate lady was delivered of a boy, who not only
showed no appearance of having suffered from his mother's calamities,
but appeared to be an infant of uncommon health and strength. The
unhappy mother, after her confinement, recovered her reason--at least
in a great measure, but never her health and spirits. Allan was her only
joy. Her attention to him was unremitting; and unquestionably she must
have impressed upon his early mind many of those superstitious ideas to
which his moody and enthusiastic temper gave so ready a reception. She
died when he was about ten years old. Her last words were spoken to him
in private; but there is little doubt that they conveyed an injunction
of vengeance upon the Children of the Mist, with which he has since
amply complied.

"From this moment, the habits of Allan M'Aulay were totally changed.
He had hitherto been his mother's constant companion, listening to
her dreams, and repeating his own, and feeding his imagination,
which, probably from the circumstances preceding his birth, was
constitutionally deranged, with all the wild and terrible superstitions
so common to the mountaineers, to which his unfortunate mother had
become much addicted since her brother's death. By living in this
manner, the boy had gotten a timid, wild, startled look, loved to seek
out solitary places in the woods, and was never so much terrified, as
by the approach of children of the same age. I remember, although some