The Return of Black Douglas Read Free

lunch.”
    Elisabeth mulled that over and held out her hand. “Okay, give me the keys. I’ll drive. You look like you’ve had all the blood drained out of you.”
    That was a good description of the way she felt, Isobella thought. She walked around to the passenger side and opened the door. When she sat down, the hair on the back of her neck stood out. A cold shiver traveled across her body. She had the disquieting feeling that the two of them were not alone.
    Elisabeth put the key in the ignition. The sky began to darken. Thunder boomed, and the trees began to sway and bend. Leaves flew every which way as jagged flashes of lightning ripped across the sky. An earsplitting clap of thunder was followed by pounding rain that pelted the earth with great fury.
    Isobella held her breath as an odd greenish glow lit up the shadowy darkness of the trees with a pale, ghostly radiance. Another flash, and she saw a vision of herself standing beneath the trees with a basket of eggs in her hand. The sound of a man’s laughter rode on the wind.
    Then, as suddenly as it came, the storm stopped. The sun was shining, and all was quiet. She wondered if Elisabeth had heard the laughter. Judging by the expression of stunned bewilderment on her sister’s face, she had. Elisabeth’s hands flew up to her face, and she let out a long-held breath. “Did you see what I saw?”
    “I saw a thunderstorm.”
    “And a greenish light,” Elisabeth added, “and the sound of…”
    “A man’s laughter,” Isobella finished. “Did you see the girl with the bonnet of eggs?”
    Elisabeth spoke with an unsteady voice, “It was you, Izzy. She looked exactly like you.”
    “I thought so, too, except that she was dressed in a gown from the Renaissance period.”
    Elisabeth’s face was pale, her voice barely above a whisper. “Izzy, what have we gotten ourselves into? Things like that don’t just happen.”
    “And yet it did. We both saw it,” Isobella said, surprised at the calm acceptance that washed over her. Something was going on here, and it had to do with Scotland, this kirk, and the Black Douglas.
    “You don’t think it was something supernatural, do you?”
    “That’s exactly what I think,” she said, and quoted Samuel Coleridge, “‘Beware! His flashing eyes, his floating hair! Weave a circle round him thrice and close your eyes with holy dread, for he on honey-dew hath fed, and drunk the milk of Paradise.’”
    “Thanks. That was so comforting,” Elisabeth said. “I don’t believe in the supernatural. There are no such things as ghosts. When people die, they stay dead. What we heard was the wind blowing, not laughter.”
    Isobella turned her head to gaze out the window. “You will notice that, in spite of the thunderstorm, our car is bone dry and there isn’t a drop of water anywhere on this entire parking lot.”
    Elisabeth paled. “Oh, Izzy, I’m scared. We don’t belong here. I wish we hadn’t come. Whatever spirits are lurking are not happy with our coming. They want us to leave, and they are going out of their way to make it known.”
    “If they wanted to get our attention, they would do something we couldn’t explain.”
    The words were barely spoken when the car started. Elisabeth gasped. “Oh, my God!”
    “Now what?”
    “The car is running.”
    “That means you are supposed to put it in gear so we can drive back to Edinburgh.”
    “You don’t understand.” She opened her hand. The key was lying in her palm. “What do we do now?”
    “Put the key in the ignition, I guess. You will need the key to turn the car off.”
    Elisabeth was about to insert the key when the motor stopped. “I need a drink. A big, stiff one.” She started the car with the key this time and burned a little rubber leaving the parking lot.

Chapter 3
    I arise from dreams of thee
    In the first sweet sleep of night.
    When the winds are breathing low,
    And the stars are shining bright.
    —“I Arise from Dreams of Thee”
Percy