"But the fairies or some one else may change him," said she. "You may be separated amid the confusion and uproar now on the Border; and when you meet again, you may not be able to prove the identity of my child. I bade you the other night examine his bosom, but you neglected to do so. If you had, you would there have found the spur of Ravensworth, testifying his lineage and descent to all the world." Will came to me in a great ferment the next day, and told me of all this. I had heard the same words the night before the battle, but had quite forgot them among other matters, and wist as little what they meant as Will did. "I hae lookit a' his bits o' claes, and graepit them a'," said he; "but I can find nae spur. How could there be a spur about a nakit bairn? It is may be in amang the blankets." "It is perhaps some private mark," said I. "Let us examine the child's body very narrowly." On doing so we found a slight mark on his breast, that seemed to have been made by applying a hot iron at some time previous, and it was exactly in the form of a V with the wrang end uppermost. So we both concluded that this was a private mark of some family, that neither fairies nor men kend o', and that it was perhaps a stamp that keepit them a' away. * * * * * "It is the stamp of the heirs lineal of the house of Neville," said the friar; "I have impressed it with my own hand, after many masses and Ave Marias said. What became of that child? or whither is he gone? I pray thee to inform us in the words of truth not lengthened out." * * * * * Alas, I cannot tell! He was visited by the white lady of Ravensworth every night, and when the gloaming came she would be seen hovering on the skirts of the wood near to him. I grew that I durstna sleep a night within ten miles o' him, and Will Laidlaw turned clean bumbazed about the thing; sae we were obliged to send him to board wi' auld Lady Lawder, her that was put out o' the convent for witchery and the ill arts. She cared nought about spirits, and conversed wi' the white lady as she had been her door neighbour; and it was said there were strange mysterious sayings past between them. She book-learned the boy, pen-learned the boy, and learned him mony other things foreby that were thought to be nae better than they should hae been. She chauntit sangs til him, and tauld him tales, and, there was little doubt, meant to breed him up to be a terrible enchanter; but afore that could be effeckit, the white lady came and took him away a' thegither. From that day he has never been seen or heard of in this world, neither as boy nor man. And now, sirs, I find that my story's worn to a head hair, and that I maun cut it short. So it is done, and that's an end til't. CHAPTER VIII. I have been a skipper in my time, And something more. Anon, I'll tell it you. OGILVIE.