"If it should but prove any one that will keep thee out of the scuffle," for she also had been aroused by the noise; but what was her astonishment when, placed in love and reverence on the bed of her late mistress, and supported by the athletic arms of her foster son, she saw the apparently lifeless form of the Fair Maid of Perth.
"Catharine Glover!" she said; "and, Holy Mother, a dying woman, as it would seem!" "Not so, old woman," said her foster son: "the dear heart throbs--the sweet breath comes and returns! Come thou, that may aid her more meetly than I--bring water--essences--whatever thy old skill can devise.

Heaven did not place her in my arms to die, but to live for herself and me!" With an activity which her age little promised, Nurse Shoolbred collected the means of restoring animation; for, like many women of the period, she understood what was to be done in such cases, nay, possessed a knowledge of treating wounds of an ordinary description, which the warlike propensities of her foster son kept in pretty constant exercise.
"Come now," she said, "son Henry, unfold your arms from about my patient, though she is worth the pressing, and set thy hands at freedom to help me with what I want.

Nay, I will not insist on your quitting her hand, if you will beat the palm gently, as the fingers unclose their clenched grasp." "I beat her slight, beautiful hand!" said Henry; "you were as well bid me beat a glass cup with a forehammer as tap her fair palm with my horn hard fingers.

But the fingers do unfold, and we will find a better way than beating"; and he applied his lips to the pretty hand, whose motion indicated returning sensation.

One or two deep sighs succeeded, and the Fair Maid of Perth opened her eyes, fixed them on her lover, as he kneeled by the bedside, and again sunk back on the pillow.