Her eyes were passing from
feature to feature of his face, as the stars revealed it above her,--from the
broad comely brow to the square young chin, from the clean-cut fine-tempered
mouth to the clear true eyes. One by one she noted them, and shade by shade
her strained look of fear relaxed. Slowly she forgot her dread; and
forgetting, her mind wandered to other things,--to memories of her father, and
of the happy evenings by the fire when she had nestled safe in his arms,--safe
and sheltered and beloved. With eyes still turned up toward his face, her lids
drooped and fell; and her head sank upon his breast and lay there, in the
peace of perfect faith.
Chapter IX
The Young Lord of Ivarsdale
Brand is kindled from brand
Till it is burnt out;
Fire is kindled from fire;
A man gets knowledge By talk with a man,
But becomes wilful by self-conceit.
Ha'vama'l.
Tap--tap, tap--tap, like dripping water dripping slowly. Drop by drop the
sound filtered through the thick wrappings of Randalin's slumber, till she
knew it for the beat of horses' hoofs, and stirred and opened her eyes.
The silver shimmer of starlight falling through purple deeps had given way to
the ruddy glare of a camp fire, and she was lying just beyond its heat,
cloak-wrapped, on a bed of leaves. Above her, interlacing beech boughs made an
arching roof, under which the shadows clustered as swallows under eaves.
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