THE ROSE-RED PAVILION As the young Earl paused a moment without to tether Black Darnaway to a fallen trunk of a pine, a chill and melancholy wind seemed to rise suddenly and toss the branches dark against the sky.

Then it flew off moaning like a lost spirit, till he could hear the sound of its passage far down the valley.

An owl hooted and a swart raven disengaged himself from the coppice about the door of the pavilion, and fluttered away with a croak of disdainful anger.

Black Darnaway turned his head and whinnied anxiously after his master.
But William Douglas, though little more than a boy if men's ages are to be counted by years, was yet a true child of Archibald the Grim, and he passed through the mysterious encampment to the door of the lighted pavilion with a carriage at once firm and assured.

He could faintly discern other tents and pavilions set further off, with pennons and bannerets, which the passing gust had blown flapping from the poles, but which now hung slackly about their staves.
"I would give a hundred golden St.Andrews," he muttered, "if I could make out the scutcheon.