Read Online By Loch and by Lin by Sorche Nic Leodhas - Free Book Online Page A

will not go, and I will never be your bride!”
    â€œWhether you will or no,” said the laird, “you will do as I say. The mistress of Glenlion castle you’ll be, and tomorrow will be our wedding day.”
    Then Glenlion’s brother Jock spoke up. “I tell you, brother, if I were you, I’d take that lady home again, for all her bonnie face. Better a lass that’s loving and kind, though maybe not a lady born, than one whose heart you have not won, for she’ll make your days heavy with hatred and scorn.”
    â€œOch, hold your tongue now, Jock!” said the laird. “You do not know what you say. My heart has been lost to that bonnie face for a good twelvemonth and more. I’ve loved her long, and I’ve loved her true, and I’ve sworn my wife she’ll be. And now that I have her in my grasp, I’ll never let her get away.”
    â€œHave your own way,” said his brother Jock. “But I doubt it will bring you much joy.” And having had his say, he wasted no more words, but silently rode on at the Laird of Glenlion’s side.
    They came to the end of their journeying as day was closing in, and saw the castle’s gray walls and towers against the evening sky. Glenlion’s three young sisters came out to welcome the travelers home. They put their arms around Baby’s waist and led her gently into the hall, and each sister gave her a greeting warm, but she did not reply. She stood among them silently, and said no word at all. They unwrapped her from the plaid and brought her a dress of their own to wear. They bathed the salt tears from her face, and gently smoothed and combed her hair. They set her at the head of the table, and plied her with food and wine, but still she sat silent, not heeding them, and would not eat or drink.
    â€œTake her away and let her rest,” said the laird. “The lass is too travel-worn to eat. She’ll be hungry enough tomorrow, when she sits at our wedding feast.”
    So the three young sisters took Bonnie Baby Livingston to a bower in one of the towers, and bidding her lie down and sleep, they left her there alone. When they had gone she ran to the door and opened it, but there were men standing at the foot of the stairs, so she could not go that way. She ran to the window, but the ground was too far below to leap out, and the wall too steep to climb down, and there was no other way by which she might escape. She sat down in a chair by the window, and leaned her head on her hand and wept.
    While she sat there weeping the door opened softly and in slipped the laird’s youngest sister, Jean. She saw Baby sitting there wrapped in grief, and crossed the room to her side.
    â€œOh, lady, do not weep,” said Jean, “and do not look so sorrowful. Tell your trouble to me and maybe it will ease your sad heart.”
    â€œWhy should I tell my trouble to you?” said Baby. “I have no friends in this strange place.”
    â€œThen take me for your friend,” said Jean. “I promise that I will help you if I can.”
    â€œYour brother, the Laird of Glenlion, has stolen me away from my family and all my friends, and from my true love in Dundee. Oh, if I but had pen and ink and paper, and someone to carry the letter I’d write, I’d send it to me true love. There might be time for him to come and rescue me.”
    â€œI will help you,” said Jean, “if you will swear to me that my brother will never know. Heaven knows what he would do to me if he found out.”
    Then Jean brought paper, pen, and ink, and a candle so that Baby could see to write a letter to her true love, Johnnie Hay.
    Then Jean went away again and came back with a young Highland laddie whom she had secretly brought into the tower. He was a bonnie lad in his philabeg and bonnet, and Jean had chosen him because he was both fleet of foot and strong.
    â€œThis lady,” Jean told him, “has an