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Updated: June 8, 2025
Torquil had just reached the spot where he had resolved to make the stand, when the young Tormot dropped and expired. His death drew from his father the first and only sigh which he had breathed throughout the eventful day. "My son Tormot!" he said, "my youngest and dearest! But if I save Hector, I save all. Now, my darling dault, I have done for thee all that man may, excepting the last.
Hence Torquil of the Oak argued that the presence of the fated person was necessary to ensure the victory. 'So much I am possessed of this, said the forester, 'that, unless Eachin fight in his place in the ranks of the Clan Quhele, neither I, his foster father, nor any of my eight sons will lift a weapon in the quarrel.
That he was under the influence of enchantment was a solution which superstition had suggested, and he now anxiously, but in a whisper, demanded of Hector: "Does the spell now darken thy spirit, Eachin?" "Yes, wretch that I am," answered the unhappy youth; "and yonder stands the fell enchanter!" "What!" exclaimed Torquil, "and you wear harness of his making?
"Wouldst thou indeed have done this justice to the name of Torquil?" said Ulrica, for we may now lay aside her assumed name of Urfried; "thou art then the true Saxon report speaks thee! for even within these accursed walls, where, as thou well sayest, guilt shrouds itself in inscrutable mystery, even there has the name of Cedric been sounded and I, wretched and degraded, have rejoiced to think that there yet breathed an avenger of our unhappy nation.
The sons of Torquil shouted back the words, which signify, "Death for Hector." Encouraged by their devotion, Eachin renewed his spirit, and called boldly to the minstrels of his clan, "Seid suas" that is, "Strike up." The wild pibroch again sounded the onset; but the two parties approached each other more slowly than at first, as men who knew and respected each other's valour.
It was lucky for Eachin that Torquil was incapable, from the formation of his own temper, and that of those with whom he had lived, to conceive the idea of one of his own tribe, much less of his chief and foster son, being deficient in animal courage.
"That," said Torquil of the Oak, "Clan Quhele will never consent to. You can never win honour from us with the sword, and you seek but a subterfuge, that you may say when you are defeated, as you know you will be, that it was for want of the number of your band fully counted out.
By saints of isle and mainland both, By woden wild my grandsire's oath Let Rome and England do their worst; Rowe'er attainted and accursed, If Bruce shall e'er find friends again, Once more to brave a battle-plain, If Douglas couch again his lance, Or Randolph dare another chance, Old Torquil will not be to lack With twice a thousand at his back; Nay, chafe not at my bearing bold, Good abbot! for thou knowest of old, Torquil's rude thought and stubborn will Smack of the wild Norwegian still Nor will I barter freedom's cause For England's wealth or Rome's applause!"
"But, Torquil," he said, "supposing this might avail us, the fatal day approaches, and if I go to the lists, I dread me we shall be shamed." "It cannot be it shall not!" said Torquil. "Hell shall not prevail so far: we will steep thy sword in holy water, place vervain, St. John's Wort, and rowan tree in thy crest. We will surround thee, I and thy eight brethren: thou shalt be safe as in a castle."
The guests took the places assigned them by Torquil of the Oak, who, acting as marischal taeh, i.e. sewer of the mess, touched with a white wand, without speaking a word, the place where each was to sit.
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