was divested of its wildness and ferocity; and in its composed state,
although by no means handsome, the expression of his features was
striking, manly, and even noble. His thick, brown eyebrows, which had
hitherto been drawn close together, were now slightly separated, as in
the natural state; and his grey eyes, which had rolled and flashed
from under them with an unnatural and portentous gleam, now recovered a
steady and determined expression.

"Thank God!" he said, after sitting silent for about a minute, until
the very last sounds of the harp had ceased to vibrate, "my soul is no
longer darkened--the mist hath passed from my spirit."

"You owe thanks, cousin Allan," said Lord Menteith, coming forward,
"to Annot Lyle, as well as to heaven, for this happy change in your
melancholy mood."

"My noble cousin Menteith," said Allan, rising and greeting him very
respectfully, as well as kindly, "has known my unhappy circumstances so
long, that his goodness will require no excuse for my being thus late in
bidding him welcome to the castle."

"We are too old acquaintances, Allan," said Lord Menteith, "and too good
friends, to stand on the ceremonial of outward greeting; but half the
Highlands will be here to-day, and you know, with our mountain Chiefs,
ceremony must not be neglected. What will you give little Annot for
making you fit company to meet Evan Dhu, and I know not how many bonnets
and feathers?"

"What will he give me?" said Annot, smiling; "nothing less, I hope, than
the best ribbon at the Fair of Doune."