It is too dark to see onything mair in this room.

We'll gae out on the battlements gin ye like, and tak' a luke at the landscape while the twilight lasts," said Dame Girzie.
Salome assented with a nod, and they climbed the last steep flight of stairs, cut in the solid wall, and leading from this upper room to the top of the watch-tower.
They came out upon a magnificent view.
The bright, long twilight of these Northern latitudes still hung luminously over island, lake and mountain.
While Salome gazed upon it Dame Girzie said: "All this frae the tower to the horizon, far as our eyes can reach, and far'er, was for eight centuries the land of the Lairds of Lone.

And noo! a' hae gane frae them, and they hae gane frae us, and na mon kens where they bide or how they fare.

Wae's me!" "It was indeed a household wreck," said Salome, with sigh of sincere sympathy.
"Ye may say that, leddy, and mak' na mistake." "What is that lofty mountain-top that I see on the edge of the horizon away to the north, just fading in the twilight ?" inquired Salome, partly to divert the dame from her gloomy thoughts.
"Yon?
Ay.

Yon will be, Ben Lone.