very marrow.'

'That explains your likeness to the poor Duke,' said Sir David,
satisfied; 'and you too count kindred with our royal house, methinks?'

'I am sprung from Walter the Stewart, so much I know; my lands lie
Carrick-wards,' said Sir James lightly, 'but I have been a prisoner so
long, that the pedigree of my house was never taught me, and I can make
no figure in describing my own descent.' And as though to put an end to
the inquiry, he walked to the window, where Malcolm so soon as they had
begun to talk of the misrule of Scotland, had ensconced himself in the
window-seat with his new book, making the most of the failing light, and
asked him whether the Monk of Iona equalled his expectations.

Malcolm was not easy to draw out at first, but it presently appeared that
he had been baffled by a tough bit of Latinity. The knight looked, and
readily expounded the sentence, so that all became plain; and then, as it
was already too dark to pursue the study with comfort, he stood over the
boy, talking to him of books and of poems, while the usually pale,
listless, uninterested countenance responded by looks of eager delight
and flushing colour.

It seemed as though each were equally pleased with the other: Sir James,
at finding so much knowledge and understanding in a Scottish castle; and
Malcolm, at, for the first time, meeting anything but contempt for his
tastes from aught but an ecclesiastic.

Their talk continued till they were summoned to supper, which had been
somewhat delayed to provide for the new-comers. It was a simple enough
meal, suited to Lent, and was merely of dried fish, with barley bread and