At length they approached Malcolm's own quarters, where they would
have to pass the very door of the wizard's chamber to reach a short
ladder-like stair that led up into the midst of naked rafters, when,
coming upon a small storm window near the end of a long passage,
Lady Florimel stopped and peeped out.
"The moon is rising," she said, and stood looking.
Malcolm glanced over her shoulder. Eastward a dim light shone
up from behind the crest of a low hill. Great part of the sky was
clear, but huge masses of broken cloud went sweeping across the
heavens. The wind had moderated.
"Aren't we somewhere near your friend the wizard?" said Lady
Florimel, with a slight tremble in the tone of mockery with which
she spoke.
Malcolm answered as if he were not quite certain.
"Isn't your own room somewhere hereabouts?" asked the girl sharply.
"We'll jist gang till ae ither queer place," observed Malcolm,
pretending not to have heard her, "and gien the rufe be a' richt
there, I s' no bather my heid mair aboot it till the mornin'. It's
but a feow steps farther, an' syne a bit stair."
A fit of her not unusual obstinacy had however seized Lady Florimel.
"I won't move a step," she said, "until you have told me where the
wizard's chamber is."
"Ahint ye, my leddy, gien ye wull hae 't," answered Malcolm, not
unwilling to punish her a little; "--jist at the far en' o' the
transe there."
In fact the window in which she stood, lighted the whole length of
the passage from which it opened.
Pages:
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545