"Nor rests there light enough to show If this their tale be true or no. The men seem bred of churlish kind, Yet rugged brows have bosoms kind; Come, lead us where your lodging lies, -Nay, soft! we mix not companies.— Shew us the path o'er cra g and stone, And we will follow you ;-lead on." XXII. They reach'd the dreary cabin, made Of sails against a rock display'd, And there, on entering, found A slender boy, whose form and mien Ill suited with such savage scene, In and cloak of velvet green, cap Low seated on the ground. His garb was such as minstrels wear, His youthful cheek was marr'd by care, His eyes in sorrow drown'd. "Whence this poor boy?"-As Ronald spoke, The voice his trance of anguish broke; As if awaked from ghastly dream, He raised his head with start and scream, And wildly gazed around; Then to the wall his face he turn'd, And his dark neck with blushes burn'd. XXIII. "Whose is the boy?" again he said. For, though from earliest childhood mute, The lad can deftly touch the lute, And on the rote and viol play, And well can drive the time away For me, the favouring breeze, when loud Makes blither melody." "Hath he, then, sense of spoken sound ?"— "Aye; so his mother bade us know, A crone in our late shipwreck drown'd, More of the youth I cannot say, Our captive but since yesterday; When wind and weather wax'd so grim, We little listed think of him. But why waste time in idle words? Sit to your cheer-unbelt your swords."- And one quick glance to Ronald sped. It was a keen and warning look, And well the Chief the signal took. XXIV. "Kind host," he said, "our needs require A separate board and separate fire ; Wend I, my comrade, and this page. Or feast us at a stranger's board; But one must still his vigil keep. Thus, for our separate use, good friend, We should refuse to share our meal ?”. "Then say we, that our swords are steel! And our vow binds us not to fast, Where gold or force may buy repast." Their host's dark brow grew keen and fell, His teeth are clench'd, his features swell; Yet sunk the felon's moody ire Before Lord Ronald's glance of fire, Nor could his craven courage brook The Monarch's calm and dauntless look. With laugh constrain'd,-" Let every man Follow the fashion of his clan! Each to his separate quarters keep, And feed or fast, or wake or sleep." XXV. Their fire at separate distance burns, By turns they eat, keep guard by turns ; For evil seem'd that old man's eye, Dark and designing, fierce yet shy. |