How small is Sinai when the man Moses stands upon it!" Then they were at the Keep garden.

Helen pulled a handful of white and golden asters, and the laird, who had seen them coming, opened the door wide to welcome them.

Alas! Alas! Though he saw it not, death entered with them.

At midnight there was the old, old cry of despair and anguish, the hurrying for help, where no help was of avail, the desolation of a terror creeping hour by hour closer to the hearthstone.
The laird was stricken with a stony grief which was deaf to all consolation.

He wandered up and down wringing his hands, and crying out at intervals like a man in mortal agony.