" As he uttered these words, the
figure of the White Maiden grew gradually as distinct as it had been
at first; and what had well-nigh faded into an ill-defined and
colourless shadow, again assumed an appearance at least of corporeal
consistency, although the hues were less vivid, and the outline of the
figure less distinct and defined--so at least it seemed to
Halbert--than those of an ordinary inhabitant of earth. "Wilt thou
grant my request," he said, "fair Lady, and give to my keeping the
holy book which Mary of Avenel has so often wept for?"
The White Lady replied:
"Thy craven fear my truth accused,
Thine idlehood my trust abused;
He that draws to harbour late,
Must sleep without, or burst the gate.
There is a star for thee which burn'd.
Its influence wanes, its course is turn'd;
Valour and constancy alone
Can bring thee back the chance that's flown."
"If I have been a loiterer, Lady," answered young Glendinning, "thou
shalt now find me willing to press forward with double speed. Other
thoughts have filled my mind, other thoughts have engaged my heart,
within a brief period--and by Heaven, other occupations shall
henceforward fill up my time. I have lived in this day the space of
years--I came hither a boy--I will return a man--a man, such as may
converse not only with his own kind, but with whatever God permits to
be visible to him. I will learn the contents of that mysterious
volume--I will learn why the Lady of Avenel loved it--why the priests
feared, and would have stolen it--why thou didst twice recover it
from their hands.
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