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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"The Scottish Chiefs"

"I thank you, reverend father;
I have indeed drawn near the end of my pilgrimage-too old to serve my
dear master in fields of blood and hardship, I will at least devote my
last hours to uniting my prayers with his, and all good souls, for the
repose of his sainted lady. I accept your invitation thankfully; and,
considering it a call from Heaven to give me rest, I welcome the day
that marks the poor harper of Ellerslie with the sacred tonsure."
The sound of approaching trumpets, and, soon after, the clattering of
horses and the clang of armor, made an instantaneous silence in the
cell. Helen looked fearfully at her cousin, and grasped his hand;
Murray clasped his sword with a firmer hold. "I will protect you with
my life." He spoke in a low tone, but he soldier heard him: "There is
no cause of alarm," rejoined he; "Lord de Valence is only marching by
on his way to Dumbarton."
"Alas, my poor father!" cried Helen, covering her face with her hands.
The venerable prior, pitying her affliction, knelt down by her. "My
daughter, be comforted," said he; "they dare not commit any violence on
the earl. King Edward too well understands his own interest to allow
even a long imprisonment to so popular a nobleman.


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