Some of our readers may deem the marriage of David and Matilda a singular and improbable circumstance; but we can tell of a far more romantic bridal, and one well attested by historical evidence, which happened little more than a hundred years afterwards--viz., in 1272--with which important consequences were connected:--A Scottish knight of high birth, Robert de Bruce, younger of Annandale and Cleveland, was passing on horseback through the domains of Turnberry, which belonged to Marjory, Countess of Carrick. The lady happened at the moment to be pursuing the diversion of the chase, surrounded by her squires and damsels. They encountered the Bruce. The young countess was struck by his noble figure, and courteously entreated him to remain and take the recreation of hunting. Bruce, who, in those feudal days, knew the danger of paying too much attention to a ward of the king, declined the invitation, when he found himself suddenly surrounded by the attendants; and the lady, riding up, seized his bridle, and led off the knight with gentle violence to her Castle of Turnberry. Here, after fifteen days' residence, the adventure concluded as might have been anticipated: Bruce married the countess, without the knowledge of her relations, or obtaining the king's consent; upon which King Alexander seized her Castle of Turnberry. The intercession of friends, however, and a heavy fine, conciliated the mind of the monarch. Bruce became, in right of his wife, Lord of Carrick, and the son of this marriage of romantic love was the great Robert Bruce, the restorer of Scottish liberty. Soon after the royal marriage, preparations were made for the queen's coronation (King David having been crowned when he ascended the throne), and the royal pair, with the court, proceeded to Scone Palace for that purpose. It was a fine morning in the month of July when the party set out, and the dawn was beautiful. Before them lay the great Frith of Forth, rolling down in the bright sunshine from the mountains of the west, its shores teeming with fertility and natural loveliness. Along the banks the mists were rising from the verdant cones and waving woods of Innergellie, Lochton, and Balcomie. It was a spacious prospect of flowering meadow and ripening corn-field--of foliaged coppice and flowing ocean--of rising eminence and busy burgh town--of ships and fishing-boats at anchor or under sail, with the glorious sunshine beaming over all, and everything was full of life, of light, and of happiness around them. The road from Crail passed through Airdrie Woods, by the back of Kellie-law, and thence through the muirs to Falkland.[12] Here the royal party stopped and partook of refreshments, and thereafter proceeded on their journey to the Palace of Scone.