But the passions of Torquil, who entertained for his foster child even a double portion of that passionate fondness which always attends that connexion in the Highlands took a different turn.
"I believe it not," he exclaimed; "it is false of thy father's child, false of thy mother's son, falsest of my dault! I offer my gage to heaven and hell, and will maintain the combat with him that shall call it true.

Thou hast been spellbound by an evil eye, my darling, and the fainting which you call cowardice is the work of magic.

I remember the bat that struck the torch out on the hour that thou wert born--that hour of grief and of joy.

Cheer up, my beloved.

Thou shalt with me to Iona, and the good St.Columbus, with the whole choir of blessed saints and angels, who ever favoured thy race, shall take from thee the heart of the white doe and return that which they have stolen from thee." Eachin listened, with a look as if he would fain have believed the words of the comforter.
"But, Torquil," he said, "supposing this might avail us, the fatal day approaches, and if I go to the lists, I dread me we shall be shamed." "It cannot be--it shall not!" said Torquil.