Nor were they the only sufferers.

Some indeed were fortunate enough to have relatives amid the band which accompanied them to Kildrummie, but by far the greater number clung to the necks of brothers, fathers, husbands, whose faithful and loving companions they had been so long--clung to them and wept, as if a long dim vista of sorrow and separation stretched before them.
Danger, indeed, was around them, and the very fact of their being thus compelled to divide, appeared to heighten the perils, and tacitly acknowledge them as too great to be endured.
With pain and difficulty the iron-souled warriors at length tore themselves from the embrace of those they held most dear.

The knights and their followers had closed round the litters, and commenced their march.

No clarion sent its shrill blast on the mountain echoes, no inspiring drum reverberated through the glens--all was mournfully still; as the rudest soldier revered the grief he beheld, and shrunk from disturbing it by a sound.
King Robert stood alone, on the spot where Sir Christopher Seaton had borne from him his wife and child.

His eyes still watched their litter; his thoughts still lingered with them alone; full of affection, anxiety, sadness, they were engrossed, but not defined.