At the mouth of the cave he stood awhile, stamping his feet that he
might be heard. But there was no response. He drew aside the stiff hide
curtain and looked within. All was black, cold desolation.
"Aasta? Aasta?" he called. But no voice answered him.
He went inside the cave and felt about for the place where he had seen
Elspeth leave the flint and steel. He lighted a rush candle and looked
about him. Everything was as he had left it a few hours before. Aasta
had not returned. He found, here a little cap, made of gay feathers and
squirrel fur, that Aasta was wont to wear; and there a necklace of
bright-hued seashells. In a corner there was a pair of small slippers,
trimmed with odd bits of coloured silk, and lined with white hare skin,
and beside them a girdle of crimson leather.
He looked upon these objects with strange reverence, but did not dare to
touch them.
Then he went to the cave's entrance and stood with his shoulder leaning
against the rock, and looking dreamily across the Clyde towards Largs.
It was still two hours before midnight, and believing that he was soon
to encounter his enemy Roderic in a hand-to-hand combat, he felt a
gloomy, melancholy spirit come upon him. If Roderic should overcome him
in the fight, how would it be with the people of Bute? They would never
be happy under the tyrannical rule of the bold sea rover.
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