Nor rush nor bush of broom was near, To hide a bonnet or a spear. 295 XII The Chief in silence strode before, And reached that torrent's sounding shore, Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, From Vennachar in silver breaks, Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines 300 On Bochastle the moldering lines, Where Rome, the Empress of the world, Of yore her eagle wings unfurled. And here his course the Chieftain stayed, Threw down his target and his plaid, 305 And to the Lowland warrior said-- "Bold Saxon! to his promise just, Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, This head of a rebellious clan, 310 Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. Now, man to man, and steel to steel. A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. See, here, all vantageless I stand, 315 Armed, like thyself, with single brand; For this is Coilantogle ford, And thou must keep thee with thy sword." XIII The Saxon paused: "I ne'er delayed, When foeman bade me draw my blade; 320 Nay more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death; Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved. Can naught but blood our feud atone? 325 Are there no means?" "No, Stranger, none! And hear--to fire thy flagging zeal-- The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred Between the living and the dead; 330 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, His party conquers in the strife.'" "Then, by my word," the Saxon said, "The riddle is already read. Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff-- 335 There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. Thus Fate hath solved her prophecy, Then yield to Fate, and not to me. To James, at Stirling, let us go, When, if thou wilt be still his foe, 340 Or if the King shall not agree To grant thee grace and favor free, I plight mine honor, oath, and word, That, to thy native strengths restored, With each advantage shalt thou stand, 345 That aids thee now to guard thy land." XIV