It was about the end of the fourth year after her marriage, and while leading this solitary and melancholy life, that the Countess of Cassilis, as she walked one evening, as was her wont, on the battlements of the castle, was suddenly alarmed by seeing a numerous band of gipsies approaching the building; and she was the more alarmed, that the earl, with nearly all his immediate retainers, was at that moment from home, the former being then in attendance on the Assembly of Divines at Westminster. The countess, however, would have felt but little uneasiness at the threatened visit of these wanderers, although they had been even much more numerous than they were--for such visitations were then of ordinary occurrence--had they presented the usual appearance, and had the band been composed of the usual materials--that is, of men, women, and children. But in this case there were none of the latter. The whole were men--and all young, stout, active-looking men they were: and hence the alarm of the countess. Her fears, however, did not prevent her watching their motions for some time, ere she descended from the battlements; and this surveillance discovered to her that they were under the conduct of a leader, and that they were approaching the castle with a very suspicious degree of caution, and yet with a still more startling haste. Strongly suspecting that the designs of the gipsies were evil, the Countess of Cassilis hastened down from the battlements, and secured herself within the walls of the castle. In the meantime, the band of gipsies approached; but, instead of attempting any violence, they began to sing some of the wild strains with which they usually sought to attract the notice and excite the charity of those to whom they appealed. Her apprehensions somewhat allayed by this pacific indication, the countess ventured towards a window that overlooked the rude minstrels, and was about to fling them a suitable guerdon, when, on obtaining the nearer view of their leader which this step afforded, she uttered a piercing shriek, and fell senseless on the floor. His disguise had not been able to conceal from her--for sharp, sharp are the eyes of love--that in the leader of the gipsies she had met with the lost knight of Dunbar. In the next instant, the countess was in the arms of the lover of her youth. He it was who acted as leader of the gipsies; and the purpose for which he now came was to carry off, in the absence of her husband--of whose absence he was aware--the betrothed of his early years.