The shout was hush'd on lake and fell, The monk resumed his mutter'd spell: Dismal and low its accents came, The while he scathed[186] the Cross with flame; And the few words that reach'd the air, Although the holiest name was there, Had more of blasphemy than prayer. But when he shook above the crowd Its kindled points, he spoke aloud:-- "Woe to the wretch who fails to rear At this dread sign the ready spear! For, as the flames this symbol sear, His home, the refuge of his fear, A kindred fate shall know; Far o'er its roof the volumed flame Clan-Alpine's vengeance shall proclaim, While maids and matrons on his name Shall call down wretchedness and shame, And infamy and woe." Then rose the cry of females, shrill As goshawk's whistle on the hill, Denouncing[187] misery and ill, Mingled with childhood's babbling trill Of curses stammer'd slow; Answering, with imprecation dread, "Sunk be his home in embers red! And cursed be the meanest shed That e'er shall hide the houseless head, We doom to want and woe!" A sharp and shrieking echo gave, Coir-Uriskin,[188] thy Goblin-cave! And the gray pass where birches wave On Beala-nam-bo.[189] [186] Scorched; charred. [187] Upon the recreant who failed to respond to the "dread sign" of the Fiery Cross. [188] A ravine of Benvenue supposed to be haunted by evil spirits. [189] The Pass of the Cattle, above Coir-Uriskin. XI. Then deeper paused the priest anew, And hard his laboring breath he drew, While, with set teeth and clinched hand, And eyes that glow'd like fiery brand, He meditated curse more dread, And deadlier, on the clansman's head, Who, summon'd to his Chieftain's aid, The signal saw and disobeyed. The crosslet's points of sparkling wood He quenched among the bubbling blood, And, as again the sign he rear'd, Hollow and hoarse his voice was heard: "When flits this Cross from man to man, Vich-Alpine's summons to his clan, Burst be the ear that fails to heed! Palsied the foot that shuns to speed! May ravens tear the careless eyes, Wolves make the coward heart their prize! As sinks that blood stream in the earth, So may his heart's blood drench his hearth! As dies in hissing gore the spark, Quench thou his light, Destruction dark, And be the grace to him denied, Bought by this sign to all beside!" He ceased; no echo gave agen The murmur of the deep Amen. XII.