"Fool!" returned Soulis, "did you think
I would so rashly throw away what I have been at such pains to gain?
Call your wife; she knows how to teach these minions submission to my
will."
The man obeyed; and while his companion, by the command of Soulis,
bound a fillet round the bleeding forehead of Helen, cut by the flints,
the chief brought two chains, and fastening them to her wrists and
ankles, exclaimed, with brutal triumph, while he locked them on:
"There, my haughty damsel, flatter not thyself that the arms of Soulis
shall be thine only fetters."
Macgregor's wife entered, and promised to obey all her lord's
injunctions. When she was left alone with the breathless body of
Helen, water, and a few cordial drops, which she poured into the
unhappy lady's mouth, soon recalled her wretched senses. On opening
her eyes, the sight of one of her own sex inspired her with some hope;
but attempting to stretch out her hands in supplication, she was
horror-struck at finding them fastened, and at the clink of the chains
which bound her. "Why am I thus?" demanded she of the woman; but
suddenly recollecting having attempted to pierce Soulis with his own
dagger, and now supposing she had slain him, she added, "Is Lord Soulis
killed?"
"No," replied the woman; "my husband says he is but slightly hurt; and
surely your fair face belies your heart, if you could intend the death
of so brave and loving a lord!"
"You then belong to him?" cried the wretched Helen, wringing her hands.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191