Shall not, may not the thought of thy pure, gentle love be mine, in the
tented field and battle's roar, urging me on, even should all other
voice be hushed?"

"Forgettest thou I am a Comyn, Nigel? That the dark stain of traitor, of
disloyalty is withering on our line, and wider and wider grows the
barrier between us and the Bruce?" The voice of the maiden was choked,
her bright eyes dim with tears.

"All, all I do forget, save that thou art mine own sweet love; and
though thy name is Comyn, thy heart is all Macduff. Weep not, my Agnes;
thine eyes were never framed for tears. Bright times for us and Scotland
are yet in store!"




CHAPTER II.


For the better comprehension of the events related in the preceding
chapter, it will be necessary to cast a summary glance on matters of
historical and domestic import no way irrelevant to our subject, save
and except their having taken place some few years previous to the
commencement of our tale.

The early years of Isabella of Buchan had been passed in happiness. The
only daughter, indeed for seven years the only child, of Malcolm, Earl
of Fife, deprived of her mother on the birth of her brother, her youth
had been nursed in a tenderness and care uncommon in those rude ages;