The Caged Lion

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Yonge Charlotte Mary. The Caged Lion

PREFACE

CHAPTER I: THE GUEST OF GLENUSKIE

CHAPTER II: THE RESCUE OF COLDINGHAM

CHAPTER III: HAL

CHAPTER IV: THE TIDINGS OF BEAUGÉ

CHAPTER V: WHITTINGTON S FEAST

CHAPTER VI: MALCOLM’S SUIT

CHAPTER VII: THE SIEGE OF MEAUX

CHAPTER VIII: THE CAPTURE

CHAPTER IX: THE DANCE OF DEATH

CHAPTER X: THE WHITSUNTIDE FESTIVAL

CHAPTER XI: THE TWO PROMISES

CHAPTER XII: THE LAST PILGRIMAGE

CHAPTER XIII: THE RING AND THE EMPTY THRONE

CHAPTER XIV: THE TROTH FLIGHT

CHAPTER XV: THE TRUST

CHAPTER XVI: THE CAGE OPEN

CHAPTER XVII: THE BEGGING SCHOLAR

CHAPTER XVIII: CLERK DAVIE

CHAPTER XIX: THE LION’S WRATH

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A master hand has so often described the glens and ravines of Scotland, that it seems vain and presumptuous to meddle with them; and yet we must ask our readers to figure to themselves a sharp cleft sloping downwards to a brawling mountain stream, the sides scattered with gray rocks of every imaginable size, interspersed here and there with heather, gorse, or furze.  Just in the widest part of the valley, a sort of platform of rock jutted out from the hill-side, and afforded a station for one of those tall, narrow, grim-looking fastnesses that were the strength of Scotland, as well as her bane.

Either by nature or art, the rock had been scarped away on three sides, so that the walls of the castle rose sheer from the steep descent, except where the platform was connected with the mountain side by, as it were, an isthmus joining the peninsula to the main rock; and even this isthmus, a narrow ridge of rock just wide enough for the passage of a single horse, had been cut through, no doubt with great labour, and rendered impassable, except by the lowering of a drawbridge.  Glenuskie Castle was thus nearly impregnable, so long as it was supplied with water, and for this all possible provision had been made, by guiding a stream into the court.

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Sir James gave a deep sigh as of pain, but as if to hinder its being remarked, promptly answered, ‘That may be; but what is to be the lot of a land whose honest men desert her cause as too evil for them, and seek out another, that when seen closer is scarce less evil?’

‘How, Sir!’ cried Patrick; ‘you a prisoner of England, yet speaking against our noble French allies, so foully trampled on?’

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