And indeed I must admit that it had occurred to me sometimes, or been suggested by others, that the Lady Lorna had not behaved altogether kindly, since her departure from among us.  For although in those days the post (as we call the service of letter-carrying, which now comes within twenty miles of us) did not extend to our part of the world, yet it might have been possible to procure for hire a man who would ride post, if Lorna feared to trust the pack-horses, or the troopers, who went to and fro.  Yet no message whatever had reached us; neither any token even of her safety in London.  As to this last, however, we had no misgivings, having learned from the orderlies, more than once, that the wealth, and beauty, and adventures of young Lady Lorna Dugal were greatly talked of, both at court and among the common people.

Now riding sadly homewards, in the sunset of the early spring, I was more than ever touched with sorrow, and a sense of being, as it were, abandoned.  And the weather growing quite beautiful, and so mild that the trees were budding, and the cattle full of happiness, I could not but think of the difference between the world of to-day and the world of this day twelvemonth.  Then all was howling desolation, all the earth blocked up with snow, and all the air with barbs of ice as small as splintered needles, yet glittering, in and out, like stars, and gathering so upon a man (if long he stayed among them) that they began to weigh him down to sleepiness and frozen death.  Not a sign of life was moving, nor was any change of view; unless the wild wind struck the crest of some cold drift, and bowed it.

Now, on the other hand, all was good.  The open palm of spring was laid upon the yielding of the hills; and each particular valley seemed to be the glove for a finger.  And although the sun was low, and dipping in the western clouds, the gray light of the sea came up, and took, and taking, told the special tone of everything.  All this lay upon my heart, without a word of thinking, spreading light and shadow there, and the soft delight of sadness.  Nevertheless, I would it were the savage snow around me, and the piping of the restless winds, and the death of everything.  For in those days I had Lorna.

Then I thought of promise fair; such as glowed around me, where the red rocks held the sun, when he was departed; and the distant crags endeavoured to retain his memory.  But as evening spread across them, shading with a silent fold, all the colour stole away; all remembrance waned and died.

“So it has been with love,” I thought, “and with simple truth and warmth.  The maid has chosen the glittering stars, instead of the plain daylight.”

Nevertheless I would not give in, although in deep despondency (especially when I passed the place where my dear father had fought in vain), and I tried to see things right and then judge aright about them.  This, however, was more easy to attempt than to achieve; and by the time I came down the hill, I was none the wiser.  Only I could tell my mother that the King was dead for sure; and she would have tried to cry, but for thought of her mourning.