Chapter 29

-------------Sure he cannot
Be so unmanly as to leave me here;
If he do, maids will not so easily
Trust men again.
THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN.

The knight continued to keep the good horse at a pace as quick as the
road permitted, until they had cleared the valley of Glendearg, and
entered upon the broad dale of the Tweed, which now rolled before them
in crystal beauty, displaying on its opposite bank the huge gray
Monastery of St. Mary's, whose towers and pinnacles were scarce yet
touched by the newly-risen sun, so deeply the edifice lies shrouded
under the mountains which rise to the southward.

Turning to the left, the knight continued his road down to the northern
bank of the river, until they arrived nearly opposite to the weir, or
dam-dike, where Father Philip concluded his extraordinary aquatic
excursion.

Sir Piercie Shafton, whose brain seldom admitted more than one idea at
a time, had hitherto pushed forward without very distinctly
considering where he was going. But the sight of the Monastery so near
to him, reminded, him that he was still on dangerous ground, and that
he must necessarily provide for his safety by choosing some settled
plan of escape. The situation of his guide and deliverer also occurred
to him, for he was far from being either selfish or ungrateful. He
listened, and discovered that the Miller's daughter was sobbing and
weeping bitterly as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"What ails thee," he said, "my generous Molinara?--is there aught that
Piercie Shafton can do which may show his gratitude to his deliverer?"
Mysie pointed with her finger across the river, but ventured not to
turn her eyes in that direction. "Nay, but speak plain, most generous
damsel," said the knight, who, for once, was puzzled as much as his
own elegance of speech was wont to puzzle others, "for I swear to you
that I comprehend nought by the extension of thy fair digit."

"Yonder is my father's house," said Mysie, in a voice interrupted by the
increased burst of her sorrow.

"And I was carrying thee discourteously to a distance from thy
habitation?" said Shafton, imagining he had found out the source of
her grief. "Wo worth the hour that Piercie Shafton, in attention to
his own safety, neglected the accommodation of any female, far less of
his most beneficent liberatrice! Dismount, then, O lovely Molinara,
unless thou wouldst rather that I should transport thee on horseback
to the house of thy molendinary father, which, if thou sayest the
word, I am prompt to do, defying all dangers which may arise to me
personally, whether by monk or miller."

Mysie suppressed her sobs, and with