The autumnal sun was sinking. The vast and fertile plain of wood and wold which stretches from the foot of the castle rock for fifty miles to the westward, was steeped in warm light; and the sun's diverging rays of ruddy gold, as he sank behind the rugged ridges of Corstorphine, filled all the western sky with a shining glory, which threw forward, in strong, black outline, the intervening woods and rocks, hills and knolls. Gray's eyes were apparently fixed upon the dark mountains and the beautiful plain, all brightness and fertility; but they dwelt on vacancy, for he saw, instead, a graceful head, with a mass of wavy hair, long-lashed, gentle eyes, of a violet blue, a soft face, with a brilliant complexion, and a slightly rose-tinted cheek. There was a sound in his ear too. It was the voice of Murielle, conjured up with all a lover's memory in an age of poetry, romance, and enthusiasm, when knightly faith and purity, and even somewhat of fading chivalry, were lingering in the northern land. A hand was laid on his shoulder; he started, and on turning met the keen eyes, the thoughtful face, and tall thin figure of the chancellor, who was clad in his fur-trimmed gown, which was girt at the waist by an embroidered girdle, whereat hung, as usual, his tablets, pouch, and dagger. "You did not hear the servitor announce me, Sir Patrick," said he; "were you dreaming of Elf-land, or some far-off day of happiness?" "Your pardon!--though not much given to flights of fancy," replied Sir Patrick, starting, "I _was_ in a dreamy mood." "Nay, do not rise, but rest--and say how fare you," "Ill enough, my lord," replied the captain, passing a thin wan hand across his pale brow with a troubled air; "ill enough, and weary too." "In body?" "Yes--and in spirit." "That is a matter beyond the skill of such a leech even as my good wife Agnes." "Her kindness and care are only equalled by my gratitude; and see," added Sir Patrick, smiling, "she has hung at my neck her own miraculous pomander-ball, lest the plague that rages now in Fife might here infect me. But I am weary of resting and of idleness; yet alas! and alake! Sir William, I fear me this arm will never curb a horse's head again; and as for handling my sword, a child might twitch it from me at the third pass! Here an arrow-head was wedged between the bones of the right forearm; but I gave the archer a notch on the knuckles that will mar his shooting for life." "Well, there is some comfort in that," replied the chancellor, "and greater had there been, could you have notched the head of Abercorn, or Douglas as he is entitled now." A hectic flush crossed the face of Sir Patrick, who replied, huskily: "After what had taken place on the preceding day, I would not have struck a blow at _her_ kinsman, even to save my life!" "After _what_ had taken place?" reiterated the chancellor, gloomily. "Ay, on the vigil of St. Catharine," continued Gray with firmness, and something of reproach in his tone.