XVIII.

Fitz-James knew every wily train A lady's fickle heart to gain, But here he knew and felt them vain. There shot no glance from Ellen's eye, To give her steadfast speech the lie; In maiden confidence she stood, Though mantled in her cheek the blood And told her love with such a sigh Of deep and hopeless agony, As death had sealed her Malcolm's doom And she sat sorrowing on his tomb. Hope vanished from Fitz-James's eye, But not with hope fled sympathy. He proffered to attend her side, As brother would a sister guide. 'O little know'st thou Roderick's heart! Safer for both we go apart. O haste thee, and from Allan learn If thou mayst trust yon wily kern.' With hand upon his forehead laid, The conflict of his mind to shade, A parting step or two he made; Then, as some thought had crossed his brain He paused, and turned, and came again.