She stood on the summit of a hill, and the road wound downwards to a great loch bounded by mountains, their steep sides reflected in the still water. The rays of the setting sun pointed across the centre of the loch like a finger of light, turning to sparkling gold the turrets and towers and massive keep of a castle. Built on an island and joined only to the mainland by a narrow bridge, it appeared to Iona at that moment to be a fairy palace of almost ethereal loveliness.
It stood there proudly, not overawed or dwarfed by the height and majesty of the surrounding mountains, its massive stone bastions seeming a part of the landscape.
How long Iona stood staring at the castle she had no idea. She was conscious only of some strange emotion within herself, something she did not understand, b
