"Then," said Kenric, "I warn you, go not near to the forest of Barone,
Duncan; for I have but now come through, and therein I saw a sight that
would raise your hair on end. It was, as I believe, none other than the
werewolf that I saw. First there was an old gray wolf with a white patch
on its breast, and then, even as I looked, that wolf was spirited into
the form of a fair lady, and I was like to sink into the ground with fear."

"'Tis the first time that I have heard of a son of the house of Rothesay
knowing fear," said Duncan, smiling and showing his great yellow teeth
in the moonlight. "'Twas but the maid Aasta of Kilmory that you saw."

"Aasta? Then it is true that the maid has been bewitched? It is true
that she has that power of turning herself at will into the form of a wolf?"

"Men say so," answered Duncan. "But methinks 'tis no more true than that
other thing they say of her -- that though she looks but a girl of
eighteen, she is yet full five score winters old. 'Tis idle talk,
Kenric. But where saw you this sight? Was it not by the Rock of
Solitude, in the heart of the forest?"

"'Twas even there. But in an instant she disappeared, and I saw her no
more."

"If she be not there now," said Duncan, heaving a great sigh out of his
deep chest, "then will I return into the castle; for now do I mind me
that mine eyes are wanting sleep after the weary day that I have had
among the hills, running high and low as though I were but a dumb hound
made only to scent out game for those who know less of hunting than I do
of building a ship. That lazy old graybeard, the lord of Jura, may bring
his own gillies with him the next time he comes to the hunting in Bute.