Sholto held out his arms at the first burst of the stirring sound, and the girl, all her wayward pride falling from her in a moment, came straight into them.

“Good-by, my sweetheart,” he said, stooping to kiss the lips that now said him not nay, but which quivered pitifully as he touched them, “God knows whether these eyes shall rest again on the desire of my heart.”

Maud looked into his face steadily and searchingly.

“You are sure you will not forget me, Sholto?” she said; “you will love me as much to-morrow when you are far away, and think me as fair as you do when you hold me thus in your arms upon the battlements of Thrieve?”

Before Sholto had time to answer, the trumpet rang out again, with a call more instant and imperious than before.

[Illustration:  “BUT THERE COMETH A NIGHT WHEN EVERY ONE OF US WATCHES THE GREY SHALLOWS TO THE EAST FOR THOSE THAT SHALL RETURN NO MORE!”]

Sholto clasped her close to him as the second summons shrilled up into the air.

“God keep my little lass!” he said; “fear not, Maud, I have never loved any but you!”

He was gone.  And through her tears Maud Lindesay watched him from the top of the great square keep, as he rode off gallantly behind the Earl and his brother.

“In time past I have dreamed,” she thought to herself, “that I loved this one and that; but it was not at all like this.  I cannot put him out of my mind for a moment, even when I would!”

As the brothers William and David Douglas crossed the rough bridge of pine thrown over the narrows of the Dee, they looked back simultaneously.  Their mother stood on the green moat platform of Thrieve, with their little sister Margaret holding up her train with a pretty modesty.  She waved not a hand, fluttered no kerchief of farewell, only stood sadly watching the sons with whom she had travailed, like one who watches the dear dead borne to their last resting-place.

“So,” she communed, “even thus do the women of the Douglas House watch their beloveds ride out of sight.  And so for many times they return through the ford at dawn or dusk.  But there cometh a night when every one of us watches the grey shallows to the east for those that shall return no more!”

“See, see!” cried the little Margaret, “look, dear mother, they have taken off their caps, and even Sholto hath his steel bonnet in his hand.  They are bidding us farewell.  I wish Maudie had been here to see.  I wonder where she has hidden herself.  How surprised she will be to find that they are gone!”

It was a true word that the little Maid of Galloway spoke, for, according to the pretty custom of the young Earl, the cavalcade had halted ere they plunged into the woods of Kelton.  The Douglas lads took their bonnets in their hands.  Their dark hair was stirred by the breeze.  Sholto also bared his head and looked towards the speck of white which he could just discern on the summit of the frowning keep.