Annot, such as we have described her, smiled and blushed, when, on
entering the apartment, Lord Menteith came from his place of retirement,
and kindly wished her good-morning.

"And good-morning to you, my lord," returned she, extending her hand to
her friend; "we have seldom seen you of late at the castle, and now I
fear it is with no peaceful purpose."

"At least, let me not interrupt your harmony, Annot," said Lord
Menteith, "though my arrival may breed discord elsewhere. My cousin
Allan needs the assistance of your voice and music."

"My preserver," said Annot Lyle, "has a right to my poor exertions; and
you, too, my lord,--you, too, are my preserver, and were the most
active to save a life that is worthless enough, unless it can benefit my
protectors."

So saying, she sate down at a little distance upon the bench on which
Allan M'Aulay was placed, and tuning her clairshach, a small harp, about
thirty inches in height, she accompanied it with her voice. The air was
an ancient Gaelic melody, and the words, which were supposed to be very
old, were in the same language; but we subjoin a translation of them,
by Secundus Macpherson, Esq. of Glenforgen, which, although submitted to
the fetters of English rhythm, we trust will be found nearly as genuine
as the version of Ossian by his celebrated namesake.

     "Birds of omen dark and foul,
     Night-crow, raven, bat, and owl,
     Leave the sick man to his dream--
     All night long he heard your scream--
     Haste to cave and ruin'd tower,
     Ivy, tod, or dingled bower,
     There to wink and mope, for, hark!
     In the mid air sings the lark.

     "Hie to moorish gills and rocks,
     Prowling wolf and wily fox,--
     Hie you fast, nor turn your view,
     Though the lamb bleats to the ewe.
     Couch your trains, and speed your flight,
     Safety parts with parting night;
     And on distant echo borne,
     Comes the hunter's early horn.

     "The moon's wan crescent scarcely gleams,
     Ghost-like she fades in morning beams;
     Hie hence each peevish imp and fay,
     That scare the pilgrim on his way:--
     Quench, kelpy!  quench, in bog and fen,
     Thy torch that cheats benighted men;
     Thy dance is o'er, thy reign is done,
     For Benyieglo hath seen the sun.

     "Wild thoughts, that, sinful, dark, and deep,
     O'erpower the passive mind in sleep,
     Pass from the slumberer's soul away,
     Like night-mists from the brow of day:
     Foul hag, whose blasted visage grim
     Smothers the pulse, unnerves the limb,
     Spur thy dark palfrey, and begone!
     Thou darest not face the godlike sun."

As the strain proceeded, Allan M'Aulay gradually gave signs of
recovering his presence of mind, and attention to the objects around
him. The deep-knit furrows of his brow relaxed and smoothed themselves;
and the rest of his features, which had seemed contorted with internal
agony, relapsed into a more natural state. When he raised his head
and sat upright, his countenance, though still deeply melancholy,
was divested of its wildness and ferocity; and in its composed state,
although by no means handsome, the expression of his features was
striking, manly, and even noble. His thick, brown eyebrows, which had
hitherto been drawn close together, were now slightly separated, as in
the natural state; and his grey eyes, which had rolled and flashed
from under them with an unnatural and portentous gleam, now recovered a
steady and determined expression.

"Thank God!" he said, after sitting silent for about a minute, until
the very last sounds of the harp had ceased to vibrate, "my soul is no
longer darkened--the mist hath passed from my spirit."

"You owe thanks, cousin Allan," said Lord Menteith, coming forward,
"to Annot Lyle, as well as to heaven, for this happy change in your
melancholy mood."

"My noble cousin Menteith," said Allan, rising and greeting him very
respectfully, as well as kindly, "has known my unhappy circumstances so
long, that his goodness will require no excuse for my being thus late in
bidding him welcome to the castle."

"We are too old acquaintances, Allan," said Lord Menteith, "and too good
friends, to stand on the ceremonial of outward greeting; but half the
Highlands will be here to-day, and you know, with our mountain Chiefs,
ceremony must not be neglected. What will you give little Annot for
making you fit company to meet Evan Dhu, and I know not how many bonnets
and feathers?"

"What will he give me?" said Annot, smiling; "nothing less, I hope, than
the best ribbon at the Fair of Doune."

"The Fair of Doune, Annot?" said Allan sadly; "there will be bloody work
before that day, and I may never see it; but you have well reminded me
of what I have long intended to do."

Having said this, he left the room.

"Should he talk long in this manner," said Lord Menteith, "you must keep
your harp in tune, my dear Annot."

"I hope not," said Annot, anxiously; "this fit has been a long one, and
probably will not soon return. It is fearful to see a mind, naturally
generous and affectionate, afflicted by this constitutional malady."

As she spoke in a low and confidential tone, Lord Menteith naturally
drew close, and stooped forward, that he might the better catch the
sense of what she said. When Allan suddenly entered the apartment,
they as naturally drew back from each other with a manner expressive of
consciousness, as if surprised in a conversation which they wished to
keep secret from him. This did not escape Allan's observation; he stopt
short at the door of the apartment--his brows were contracted--his eyes
rolled; but it was only the paroxysm of a moment. He passed his broad
sinewy hand across his brow, as if to obliterate these signs of emotion,
and advanced towards Annot, holding in his hand a very small box made
of oakwood, curiously inlaid. "I take you to witness," he said, "cousin
Menteith, that I give this box and its contents to Annot Lyle. It
contains a few ornaments that belonged to my poor mother--of trifling
value, you may guess, for the wife of a Highland laird has seldom a rich
jewel-casket."

"But these ornaments," said Annot Lyle, gently and timidly refusing the
box, "belong to the family--I cannot accept--"

"They belong to me alone, Annot," said Allan, interrupting her; "they
were my mother's dying bequest. They are all I can call my own, except
my plaid and my claymore. Take them, therefore--they are to me valueless
trinkets--and keep them for my sake--should I never return from these
wars."

So saying, he opened the case, and presented it to Annot. "If," said he,
"they are of any value, dispose of them for your own support, when this
house has been consumed with hostile fire, and can no longer afford
you protection. But keep one ring in memory of Allan, who has done, to
requite your kindness, if not all he wished, at least all he could."

Annot Lyle endeavoured in vain to restrain the gathering tears, when
she said, "ONE ring, Allan, I will accept from you as a memorial of
your goodness to a poor orphan, but do not press me to take more; for I
cannot, and will not, accept a gift of such disproportioned value."

"Make your choice, then," said Allan; "your delicacy may be well
founded; the others will assume a shape in which they may be more useful
to you."

"Think not of it," said Annot, choosing from the contents of the casket
a ring, apparently the most trifling in value which it contained; "keep
them for your own, or your brother's bride.--But, good heavens!" she
said, interrupting herself, and looking at the ring, "what is this that
I have chosen?"

Allan hastened to look upon it, with eyes of gloomy apprehension; it
bore, in enamel, a death's head above two crossed daggers. When Allan
recognised the device, he uttered a sigh so deep, that she dropped the
ring from her hand, which rolled upon the floor. Lord Menteith picked it
up, and returned it to the terrified Annot.

"I take God to witness," said Allan, in a solemn tone, "that your hand,
young lord, and not mine, has again delivered to her this ill-omened
gift. It was the mourning ring worn by my mother in memorial of her
murdered brother."

"I fear no omens," said Annot, smiling through her tears; "and nothing
coming through the hands of my two patrons," so she was wont to call
Lord Menteith and Allan, "can bring bad luck to the poor orphan."

She put the ring on her finger, and, turning to her harp, sung, to a
lively air, the following verses of one of the fashionable songs of
the period, which had found its way, marked as it was with the quaint
hyperbolical taste of King Charles's time, from some court masque to the
wilds of Perthshire:--

     "Gaze not upon the stars, fond sage,
     In them no influence lies;
     To read the fate of youth or age,
     Look on my Helen's eyes.

     "Yet, rash astrologer, refrain!
     Too dearly would be won
     The prescience of another's pain,
     If purchased by thine own."

"She is right, Allan," said Lord Menteith; "and this end of an old song
is worth all we shall gain by our attempt to look into futurity."

"She is WRONG, my lord," said Allan, sternly, "though you, who treat
with lightness the warnings I have given you, may not live to see the
event of the omen.--laugh not so scornfully," he added, interrupting
himself "or rather laugh on as loud and as long as you will; your term
of laughter will find a pause ere long."

"I care not for your visions, Allan," said Lord Menteith; "however short
my span of life, the eye of no Highland seer can see its termination."

"For heaven's sake," said Annot Lyle, interrupting him, "you know his
nature, and how little he can endure--"

"Fear me not," said Allan, interrupting her,--"my mind is now constant
and calm.--But for you, young lord," said he, turning to Lord Menteith,
"my eye has sought you through fields of battle, where Highlanders and
Lowlanders lay strewed as thick as ever the rooks sat on those ancient
trees," pointing to a rookery which was seen from the window--"my eye
sought you, but your corpse was not there--my eye sought you among a
train of unresisting and disarmed captives, drawn up within the bounding
walls of an ancient and rugged fortress;--flash after flash--platoon
after platoon--the hostile shot fell amongst them, They dropped like
the dry leaves in autumn, but you were not among their ranks;--scaffolds
were prepared--blocks were arranged, saw-dust was spread--the priest was
ready with his book, the headsman with his axe--but there, too, mine eye
found you not."

"The gibbet, then, I suppose, must be my doom?" said Lord Menteith. "Yet
I wish they had spared me the halter, were it but for the dignity of the
peerage."

He spoke this scornfully, yet not without a sort of curiosity, and
a wish to receive an answer; for the desire of prying into futurity
frequently has some influence even on the minds of those who disavow all
belief in the possibility of such predictions.

"Your rank, my lord, will suffer no dishonour in your person, or by the
manner of your death. Three times have I seen a Highlander plant his
dirk in your bosom--and such will be your fate."

"I wish you would describe him to me," said Lord Menteith, "and I
shall save him the trouble of fulfilling your prophecy, if his plaid be
passible to sword or pistol."

"Your weapons," said Allan, "would avail you little; nor can I give you
the information you desire. The face of the vision has been ever averted
from me."

"So be it then," said Lord Menteith, "and let it rest in the uncertainty
in which your augury has placed it. I shall dine not the less merrily
among plaids, and dirks, and kilts to-day."

"It may be so," said Allan; "and, it may be, you do well to enjoy these
moments, which to me are poisoned by auguries of future evil. But I," he
continued--"I repeat to you, that this weapon--that is, such a weapon as
this," touching the hilt of the dirk which he wore, "carries your fate."
"In the meanwhile," said Lord Menteith, "you, Allan, have frightened
the blood from the cheeks of Annot Lyle--let us leave this discourse,
my friend, and go to see what we both understand,--the progress of our
military preparations."

They joined Angus M'Aulay and his English guests, and, in the military
discussions which immediately took place, Allan showed a clearness
of mind, strength of judgment, and precision of thought, totally
inconsistent with the mystical light in which his character has been
hitherto exhibited.



CHAPTER VII.

     When Albin her claymore indignantly draws,
     When her bonneted chieftains around her shall crowd,
     Clan-Ranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud,
     All plaided and plumed in their tartan array--LOCHEIL'S WARNING.

Whoever saw that morning, the Castle of Darnlinvarach, beheld a busy and
a gallant sight.

The various Chiefs, arriving with their different retinues, which,
notwithstanding their numbers, formed no more than their usual equipage
and body-guard upon occasions of solemnity, saluted the lord of the
castle and each other with overflowing kindness, or with haughty and
distant politeness, according to the circumstances of friendship or
hostility in which their clans had recently stood to each other.
Each Chief, however small his comparative importance, showed the full
disposition to exact from the rest the deference due to a separate and
independent prince; while the stronger and more powerful, divided among
themselves by recent contentions or ancient feuds, were constrained in
policy to use great deference to the feelings of their less powerful
brethren, in order, in case of need, to attach as many well-wishers as
might be to their own interest and standard. Thus the meeting of Chiefs
resembled not a little those ancient Diets of the Empire, where the
smallest FREY-GRAF, who possessed a castle perched upon a barren crag,
with a few hundred acres around it, claimed the state and honours of a
sovereign prince, and a seat according to his rank among the dignitaries
of the Empire.

The followers of the different leaders were separately arranged and
accommodated, as room and circumstances best permitted, each retaining
however his henchman, who waited, close as the shadow, upon his person,
to execute whatever might be required by his patron.

The exterior of the castle afforded a singular scene. The Highlanders,
from different islands, glens, and straths, eyed each other at a
distance with looks of emulation, inquisitive curiosity, or hostile
malevolence; but the most astounding part of the assembly, at least to
a Lowland ear, was the rival performance of the bagpipers. These warlike
minstrels, who had the highest opinion, each, of the superiority of
his own tribe, joined to the most overweening idea of the importance
connected with his profession, at first, performed their various
pibrochs in front each of his own clan. At length, however, as the
black-cocks towards the end of the season, when, in sportsman's
language, they are said to flock or crowd, attracted together by the
sound of each others' triumphant crow, even so did the pipers, swelling
their plaids and tartans in the same triumphant manner in which the
birds ruffle up their feathers, begin to approach each other within
such distance as might give to their brethren a sample of their skill.
Walking within a short interval, and eyeing each other with looks in
which self-importance and defiance might be traced, they strutted,
puffed, and plied their screaming instruments, each playing his own
favourite tune with such a din, that if an Italian musician had lain
buried within ten miles of them, he must have risen from the dead to run
out of hearing.

The Chieftains meanwhile had assembled in close conclave in the
great hall of the castle. Among them were the persons of the greatest
consequence in the Highlands, some of them attracted by zeal for the
royal cause, and many by aversion to that severe and general domination
which the Marquis of Argyle, since his rising to such influence in
the state, had exercised over his Highland neighbours. That statesman,
indeed, though possessed of considerable abilities, and great power, had
failings, which rendered him unpopular among the Highland chiefs. The
devotion which he professed was of a morose and fanatical character; his
ambition appeared to be insatiable, and inferior chiefs complained
of his want of bounty and liberality. Add to this, that although a
Highlander, and of a family distinguished for valour before and since,
Gillespie Grumach [GRUMACH--ill-favored.] (which, from an obliquity in
his eyes, was the personal distinction he bore in the Highlands, where
titles of rank are unknown) was suspected of being a better man in the
cabinet than in the field. He and his tribe were particularly obnoxious
to the M'Donalds and the M'Leans, two numerous septs, who, though
disunited by ancient feuds, agreed in an intense dislike to the
Campbells, or, as they were called, the Children of Diarmid.

For some time the assembled Chiefs remained silent, until some one
should open the business of the meeting. At length one of the most
powerful of them commenced the diet by saying,--"We have been summoned
hither, M'Aulay, to consult of weighty matters concerning the King's
affairs, and those of the state; and we crave to know by whom they are
to be explained to us?"

M'Aulay, whose strength did not lie in oratory, intimated his wish
that Lord Menteith should open the business of the council. With great
modesty, and at the same time with spirit, that young lord said, "he
wished what he was about to propose had come from some person of better
known and more established character. Since, however, it lay with him
to be spokesman, he had to state to the Chiefs assembled, that those who
wished to throw off the base yoke which fanaticism had endeavoured to
wreath round their necks, had not a moment to lose. 'The Covenanters,'"
he said, "after having twice made war upon their sovereign, and having
extorted from him every request, reasonable or unreasonable, which
they thought proper to demand--after their Chiefs had been loaded with
dignities and favours--after having publicly declared, when his Majesty,
after a gracious visit to the land of his nativity, was upon his
return to England, that he returned a contented king from a contented
people,--after all this, and without even the pretext for a national
grievance, the same men have, upon doubts and suspicions, equally
dishonourable to the King, and groundless in themselves, detached a
strong army to assist his rebels in England, in a quarrel with which
Scotland had no more to do than she has with the wars in Germany. It was
well," he said, "that the eagerness with which this treasonable purpose
was pursued, had blinded the junta who now usurped the government of
Scotland to the risk which they were about to incur. The army which they
had dispatched to England under old Leven comprehended their veteran
soldiers, the strength of those armies which had been levied in Scotland
during the two former wars--"

Here Captain Dalgetty endeavoured to rise, for the purpose of explaining
how many veteran officers, trained in the German wars, were, to his
certain knowledge, in the army of the Earl of Leven. But Allan M'Aulay
holding him down in his seat with one hand, pressed the fore-finger of
the other upon his own lips, and, though with some difficulty, prevented
his interference. Captain Dalgetty looked upon him with a very scornful
and indignant air, by which the other's gravity was in no way moved, and
Lord Menteith proceeded without farther interruption.

"The moment," he said, "was most favourable for all true-hearted and
loyal Scotchmen to show, that the reproach their country had lately
undergone arose from the selfish ambition of a few turbulent and
seditious men, joined to the absurd fanaticism which, disseminated from
five hundred pulpits, had spread like a land-flood over the Lowlands of
Scotland. He had letters from the Marquis of Huntly in the north, which
he should show to the Chiefs separately. That nobleman, equally loyal
and powerful was determined to exert his utmost energy in the common
cause, and the powerful Earl of Seaforth was prepared to join the same
standard. From the Earl of Airly, and the Ogilvies in Angusshire, he had
had communications equally decided; and there was no doubt that these,
who, with the Hays, Leiths, Burnets, and other loyal gentlemen, would be
soon on horseback, would form a body far more than sufficient to overawe
the northern Covenanters, who had already experienced their valour in
the well-known rout which was popularly termed the Trot of Turiff. South
of Forth and Tay," he said, "the King had many friends, who, oppressed
by enforced oaths, compulsatory levies, heavy taxes, unjustly imposed
and unequally levied, by the tyranny of the Committee of Estates, and
the inquisitorial insolence of the Presbyterian divines, waited but the
waving of the royal banner to take up arms. Douglas, Traquair, Roxburgh,
Hume, all friendly to the royal cause, would counterbalance," he said,
"the covenanting interest in the south; and two gentlemen, of name and
quality, here present, from the north of England, would answer for the
zeal of Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Northumberland. Against so many
gallant gentlemen the southern Covenanters could but arm raw levies; the
Whigamores of the western shires, and the ploughmen and mechanics of
the Low-country. For the West Highlands, he knew no interest which the
Covenanters possessed there, except that of one individual, as well
known as he was odious. But was there a single man, who, on casting his
eye round this hall, and recognising the power, the gallantry, and the
dignity of the chiefs assembled, could entertain a moment's doubt of
their success against the utmost force which Gillespie Grumach could
collect against them? He had only farther to add, that considerable
funds, both of money and ammunition, had been provided for the
army"--(Here Dalgetty pricked up his ears)--"that officers of ability
and experience in the foreign wars, one of whom was now present," (the
Captain drew himself up, and looked round,) "had engaged to train such
levies as might require to be disciplined;--and that a numerous body
of auxiliary forces from Ireland, having been detached from the Earl of
Antrim, from Ulster, had successfully accomplished their descent upon
the main land, and, with the assistance of Clanranald's people, having
taken and fortified the Castle of Mingarry, in spite of Argyle's
attempts to intercept them, were in full march to this place of
rendezvous. It only remained," he said, "that the noble Chiefs
assembled, laying aside every lesser consideration, should unite, heart
and hand, in the common cause; send the fiery cross through their clans,
in order to collect their utmost force, and form their junction with
such celerity as to leave the enemy no time, either for preparation, or
recovery from the panic which would spread at the first sound of their
pibroch. He himself," he said, "though neither among the richest nor the
most powerful of the Scottish nobility, felt that he had to support
the dignity of an ancient and honourable house, the independence of an
ancient and honourable nation, and to that cause he was determined
to devote both life and fortune. If those who were more powerful were
equally prompt, he trusted they would deserve the thanks of their King,
and the gratitude of posterity."

Loud applause followed this speech of Lord Menteith, and testified
the general acquiescence of all present in the sentiments which he
had expressed; but when the shout had died away, the assembled Chiefs
continued to gaze upon each other as if something yet remained to be
settled. After some whispers among themselves, an aged man, whom his grey
hairs rendered respectable, although he was not of the highest order of
Chiefs, replied to what had been said.

"Thane of Menteith," he said, "you have well spoken; nor is there one of
us in whose bosom the same sentiments do not burn like fire. But it is
not strength alone that wins the fight; it is the head of the commander,
as well as the arm of the soldier, that brings victory. I ask of you who
is to raise and sustain the banner under which we are invited to rise
and muster ourselves? Will it be expected that we should risk our
children, and the flower of our kinsmen, ere we know to whose guidance
they are to be intrusted? This were leading those to slaughter, whom, by
the laws of God and man, it is our duty to protect. Where is the royal
commission, under which the lieges are to be convocated in arms? Simple
and rude as we may be deemed, we know something of the established rules
of war, as well as of the laws of our country; nor will we arm ourselves
against the general peace of Scotland, unless by the express commands
of the King, and under a leader fit to command such men as are here
assembled."

"Where would you find such a leader," said another Chief, starting up,
"saving the representative of the Lord of the Isles, entitled by birth
and hereditary descent to lead forth the array of every clan of the
Highlands; and where is that dignity lodged, save in the house of Vich
Alister More?"

"I acknowledge," said another Chief, eagerly interrupting the speaker,
"the truth in what has been first said, but not the inference. If Vich
Alister More desires to be held representative of the Lord of the Isles,
let him first show his blood is redder than mine."

"That is soon tried," said Vich Alister More, laying his hand upon the
basket hilt of his claymore. Lord Menteith threw himself between
them, entreating and imploring each to remember that the interests of
Scotland, the liberty of their country, and the cause of their King,
ought to be superior in their eyes to any personal disputes respecting
descent, rank, and precedence. Several of the Highland Chiefs, who had
no desire to admit the claims of either chieftain, interfered to the
same purpose, and none with more emphasis than the celebrated Evan Dhu.

"I have come from my lakes," he said, "as a stream descends from the
hills, not to turn again, but to accomplish my course. It is not by
looking back to our own pretensions that we shall serve Scotland or King
Charles. My voice shall be for that general whom the King shall name,
who will doubtless possess those qualities which are necessary to
command men like us. High-born he must be, or we shall lose our rank in
obeying him--wise and skilful, or we shall endanger the safety of
our people--bravest among the brave, or we shall peril our own
honour--temperate, firm, and manly, to keep us united. Such is the man
that must command us. Are you prepared, Thane of Menteith, to say where
such a general is to be found?"

"There is but ONE," said Allan M'Aulay; "and here," he said, laying
his hand upon the shoulder of Anderson, who stood behind Lord Menteith,
"here he stands!"

The general surprise of the meeting was expressed by an impatient
murmur; when Anderson, throwing back the cloak in which his face was
muffled, and stepping forward, spoke thus:--"I did not long intend to be
a silent spectator of this interesting scene, although my hasty friend
has obliged me to disclose myself somewhat sooner than was my intention.
Whether I deserve the honour reposed in me by this parchment will best
appear from what I shall be able to do for the King's service. It is a
commission under the great seal, to James Graham, Earl of Montrose, to
command those forces which are to be assembled for the service of his
Majesty in this kingdom."

A loud shout of approbation burst from the assembly. There was, in fact,
no other person to whom, in point of rank, these proud mountaineers
would have been disposed to submit. His inveterate and hereditary
hostility to the Marquis of Argyle insured his engaging in the war with
sufficient energy, while his well-known military talents, and his
tried valour, afforded every hope of his bringing it to a favourable
conclusion.



CHAPTER VIII.

     Our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our friends true and
     constant:  a good plot, good friends, and full of expectation:
     an excellent plot, very good friends.--HENRY IV Part I.

No sooner had the general acclamation of joyful surprise subsided, than
silence was eagerly demanded for reading the royal commission; and the
bonnets, which hitherto each Chief had worn, probably because unwilling
to be the first to uncover, were now at once vailed in honour of
the royal warrant. It was couched in the most full and ample terms,
authorizing the Earl of Montrose to assemble the subjects in arms,
for the putting down the present rebellion, which divers traitors
and seditious persons had levied against the King, to the manifest
forfaulture, as it stated, of their allegiance, and to the breach of
the pacification between the two kingdoms. It enjoined all subordinate
authorities to be obedient and assisting to Montrose in his enterprise;
gave him the power of making ordinances and proclamations, punishing
misdemeanours, pardoning criminals, placing and displacing governors and
commanders. In fine, it was as large and full a commission as any with
which a prince could intrust a subject. As soon as it was finished,
a shout burst from the assembled Chiefs, in testimony of their ready
submission to the will of their sovereign. Not contented with generally
thanking them for a reception so favourable, Montrose hastened to
address himself to individuals, The most important Chiefs had already
been long personally known to him, but even to those of inferior
consequence he now introduced himself and by the acquaintance he
displayed with their peculiar designations, and the circumstances and
history of their clans, he showed how long he must have studied the
character of the mountaineers, and prepared himself for such a situation
as he now held.

While he was engaged in these acts of courtesy, his graceful manner,
expressive features, and dignity of deportment, made a singular contrast
with the coarseness and meanness of his dress. Montrose possessed that
sort of form and face, in which the beholder, at the first glance, sees
nothing extraordinary, but of which the interest becomes more impressive
the longer we gaze upon them. His stature was very little above the
middle size, but in person he was uncommonly well-built, and capable
both of exerting great force, and enduring much fatigue. In fact,
he enjoyed a constitution of iron, without which he could not have
sustained the trials of his extraordinary campaigns, through all of
which he subjected himself to the hardships of the meanest soldier.
He was perfect in all exercises, whether peaceful or martial, and
possessed, of course, that graceful ease of deportment proper to those
to whom habit has rendered all postures easy.

His long brown hair, according to the custom of men of quality among the
Royalists, was parted on the top of his head, and trained to hang down
on each side in curled locks, one of which, descending two or three
inches lower than the others, intimated Montrose's compliance with that
fashion against which it pleased Mr. Prynne, the puritan, to write a
treatise, entitled, THE UNLOVELINESS OF LOVE-LOCKS. The features which
these tresses enclosed, were of that kind which derive their interest
from the character of the man, rather than from the regularity of their
form. But a high nose, a full, decided, well-opened, quick grey eye, and
a sanguine complexion, made amends for some coarseness and irregularity
in the subordinate parts of the face; so that, altogether, Montrose
might be termed rather a handsome, than a hard-featured man. But those
who saw him when his soul looked through those eyes with all the energy
and fire of genius--those who heard him speak with the authority of
talent, and the eloquence of nature, were impressed with an opinion
even of his external form, more enthusiastically favourable than the
portraits which still survive would entitle us to ascribe to it. Such,
at least, was the impression he made upon the assembled Chiefs of the
mountaineers, over whom, as upon all persons in their state of society,
personal appearance has no small influence.

In the discussions which followed his discovering himself, Montrose
explained the various risks which he had run in his present undertaking.
His first attempt had been to assemble a body of loyalists in the north
of England, who, in obedience to the orders of the Marquis of Newcastle,
he expected would have marched into Scotland; but the disinclination of
the English to cross the Border, and the delay of the Earl of Antrim,
who was to have landed in the Solway Frith with his Irish army,
prevented his executing this design. Other plans having in like manner
failed, he stated that he found himself under the necessity of assuming
a disguise to render his passage secure through the Lowlands, in which
he had been kindly assisted by his kinsman of Menteith. By what means
Allan M'Aulay had come to know him, he could not pretend to explain.
Those who knew Allan's prophetic pretensions, smiled mysteriously;
but he himself only replied, that "the Earl of Montrose need not be
surprised if he was known to thousands, of whom he himself could retain
no memory."

"By the honour of a cavalier," said Captain Dalgetty, finding at length
an opportunity to thrust in his word, "I am proud and happy in having an
opportunity of drawing a sword under your lordship's command; and I do
forgive all grudge, malecontent, and malice of my heart, to Mr. Allan
M'Aulay, for having thrust me down to the lowest seat of the board
yestreen. Certes, he hath this day spoken so like a man having full
command of his senses, that I had resolved in my secret purpose that he
was no way entitled to claim the privilege of insanity. But since I
was only postponed to a noble earl, my future commander-in-chief, I do,
before you all, recognise the justice of the preference, and heartily
salute Allan as one who is to be his BON-CAMARADO."

Having made this speech, which was little understood or attended to,
without putting off his military glove, he seized on Allan's hand,
and began to shake it with violence, which Allan, with a gripe like a
smith's vice, returned with such force, as to drive the iron splents of
the gauntlet into the hand of the wearer.

Captain Dalgetty might have construed this into a new affront, had not
his attention, as he stood blowing and shaking the injured member, been
suddenly called by Montrose himself.

"Hear this news," he said, "Captain Dalgetty--I should say Major
Dalgetty,--the Irish, who are to profit by your military experience, are
now within a few leagues of us."

"Our deer-stalkers," said Angus M'Aulay, "who were abroad to bring in
venison for this honourable party, have heard of a band of strangers,
speaking neither Saxon nor pure Gaelic, and with difficulty making
themselves understood by the people of the country, who are marching
this way in arms, under the leading, it is said, of Alaster M'Donald,
who is commonly called Young Colkitto."

"These must be our men," said Montrose; "we must hasten to send
messengers forward, both to act as guides and to relieve their wants."

"The last," said Angus M'Aulay, "will be no easy matter; for I am
informed, that, excepting muskets and a very little ammunition, they
want everything that soldiers should have; and they are particularly
deficient in money, in shoes, and in raiment."

"There is at least no use in saying so," said Montrose, "in so loud
a tone. The puritan weavers of Glasgow shall provide them plenty of
broad-cloth, when we make a descent from the Highlands; and if the
ministers could formerly preach the old women of the Scottish boroughs
out of their webs of napery, to make tents to the fellows on Dunse Law,
[The Covenanters encamped on Dunse Law, during the troubles of 1639.] I
will try whether I have not a little interest both to make these godly
dames renew their patriotic gift, and the prick-eared knaves, their
husbands, open their purses."

"And respecting arms," said Captain Dalgetty, "if your lordship will
permit an old cavalier to speak his mind, so that the one-third have
muskets, my darling weapon would be the pike for the remainder, whether
for resisting a charge of horse, or for breaking the infantry. A common
smith will make a hundred pike-heads in a day; here is plenty of wood
for shafts; and I will uphold, that, according to the best usages of
war, a strong battalion of pikes, drawn up in the fashion of the Lion of
the North, the immortal Gustavus, would beat the Macedonian phalanx,
of which I used to read in the Mareschal-College, when I studied in the
ancient town of Bon-accord; and further, I will venture to predicate--"

The Captain's lecture upon tactics was here suddenly interrupted by
Allan M'Aulay, who said, hastily,--"Room for an unexpected and unwelcome
guest!"

At the same moment, the door of the hall opened, and a grey-haired man,
of a very stately appearance, presented himself to the assembly. There
was much dignity, and even authority, in his manner. His stature was
above the common size, and his looks such as were used to command. He
cast a severe, and almost stern glance upon the assembly of Chiefs.
Those of the higher rank among them returned it with scornful
indifference; but some of the western gentlemen of inferior power,
looked as if they wished themselves elsewhere.

"To which of this assembly," said the stranger, "am I to address myself
as leader? or have you not fixed upon the person who is to hold an
office at least as perilous as it is honourable?"

"Address yourself to me, Sir Duncan Campbell," said Montrose, stepping
forward.

"To you!" said Sir Duncan Campbell, with some scorn.

"Yes,--to me," repeated Montrose,--"to the Earl of Montrose, if you have
forgot him."

"I should now, at least," said Sir Duncan Campbell, "have had some
difficulty in recognising him in the disguise of a groom.--and yet I
might have guessed that no evil influence inferior to your lordship's,
distinguished as one who troubles Israel, could have collected together
this rash assembly of misguided persons."

"I will answer unto you," said Montrose, "in the manner of your own
Puritans. I have not troubled Israel, but thou and thy father's house.
But let us leave an altercation, which is of little consequence but
to ourselves, and hear the tidings you have brought from your Chief of
Argyle; for I must conclude that it is in his name that you have come to
this meeting."

"It is in the name of the Marquis of Argyle," said Sir Duncan
Campbell,--"in the name of the Scottish Convention of Estates, that
I demand to know the meaning of this singular convocation. If it is
designed to disturb the peace of the country, it were but acting like
neighbours, and men of honour, to give us some intimation to stand upon
our guard."

"It is a singular, and new state of affairs in Scotland," said Montrose,
turning from Sir Duncan Campbell to the assembly, "when Scottish men of
rank and family cannot meet in the house of a common friend without an
inquisitorial visit and demand, on the part of our rulers, to know the
subject of our conference. Methinks our ancestors were accustomed to
hold Highland huntings, or other purposes of meeting, without asking
the leave either of the great M'Callum More himself, or any of his
emissaries or dependents."

"The times have been such in Scotland," answered one of the Western
Chiefs, "and such they will again be, when the intruders on our
ancient possessions are again reduced to be Lairds of Lochow instead of
overspreading us like a band of devouring locusts."

"Am I to understand, then," said Sir Duncan, "that it is against my name
alone that these preparations are directed? or are the race of Diarmid
only to be sufferers in common with the whole of the peaceful and
orderly inhabitants of Scotland?"

"I would ask," said a wild-looking Chief, starting hastily up, "one
question of the Knight of Ardenvohr, ere he proceeds farther in his
daring catechism.--Has he brought more than one life to this castle,
that he ventures to intrude among us for the purposes of insult?"

"Gentlemen," said Montrose, "let me implore your patience; a messenger
who comes among us for the purpose of embassy, is entitled to freedom of
speech and safe-conduct. And since Sir Duncan Campbell is so pressing, I
care not if I inform him, for his guidance, that he is in an assembly
of the King's loyal subjects, convoked by me, in his Majesty's name and
authority, and as empowered by his Majesty's royal commission."

"We are to have, then, I presume," said Sir Duncan Campbell, "a civil
war in all its forms? I have been too long a soldier to view its
approach with anxiety; but it would have been for my Lord of Montrose's
honour, if, in this matter, he had consulted his own ambition less, and
the peace of the country more."

"Those consulted their own ambition and self-interest, Sir Duncan,"
answered Montrose, "who brought the country to the pass in which it
now stands, and rendered necessary the sharp remedies which we are now
reluctantly about to use."

"And what rank among these self-seekers," said Sir Duncan Campbell, "we
shall assign to a noble Earl, so violently attached to the Covenant,
that he was the first, in 1639, to cross the Tyne, wading middle deep at
the head of his regiment, to charge the royal forces? It was the same,
I think, who imposed the Covenant upon the burgesses and colleges of
Aberdeen, at the point of sword and pike."

"I understand your sneer, Sir Duncan," said Montrose, temperately; "and
I can only add, that if sincere repentance can make amends for youthful
error, and for yielding to the artful representation of ambitious
hypocrites, I shall be pardoned for the crimes with which you taunt me.
I will at least endeavour to deserve forgiveness, for I am here, with
my sword in my hand, willing to spend the best blood of my body to make
amends for my error; and mortal man can do no more."

"Well, my lord," said Sir Duncan, "I shall be sorry to carry back this
language to the Marquis of Argyle. I had it in farther charge from the
Marquis, that, to prevent the bloody feuds which must necessarily follow
a Highland war, his lordship will be contented if terms of truce could
be arranged to the north of the Highland line, as there is ground enough
in Scotland to fight upon, without neighbours destroying each other's
families and inheritances."

"It is a peaceful proposal," said Montrose, smiling, "such as it
should be, coming from one whose personal actions have always been more
peaceful than his measures. Yet, if the terms of such a truce could be
equally fixed, and if we can obtain security, for that, Sir Duncan, is
indispensable,--that your Marquis will observe these terms with strict
fidelity, I, for my part, should be content to leave peace behind us,
since we must needs carry war before us. But, Sir Duncan, you are too
old and experienced a soldier for us to permit you to remain in our
leaguer, and witness our proceedings; we shall therefore, when you have
refreshed yourself, recommend your speedy return to Inverary, and we
shall send with you a gentleman on our part to adjust the terms of
the Highland armistice, in case the Marquis shall be found serious in
proposing such a measure." Sir Duncan Campbell assented by a bow.

"My Lord of Menteith," continued Montrose, "will you have the goodness
to attend Sir Duncan Campbell of Ardenvohr, while we determine who shall
return with him to his Chief? M'Aulay will permit us to request that he
be entertained with suitable hospitality."

"I will give orders for that," said Allan M'Aulay, rising and coming
forward. "I love Sir Duncan Campbell; we have been joint sufferers in
former days, and I do not forget it now."

"My Lord of Menteith," said Sir Duncan Campbell, "I am grieved to
see you, at your early age, engaged in such desperate and rebellious
courses."

"I am young," answered Menteith, "yet old enough to distinguish between
right and wrong, between loyalty and rebellion; and the sooner a good
course is begun, the longer and the better have I a chance of running
it."

"And you too, my friend, Allan M'Aulay," said Sir Duncan, taking his
hand, "must we also call each other enemies, that have been so often
allied against a common foe?" Then turning round to the meeting, he
said, "Farewell, gentlemen; there are so many of you to whom I wish
well, that your rejection of all terms of mediation gives me deep
affliction. May Heaven," he said, looking upwards, "judge between our
motives, and those of the movers of this civil commotion!"

"Amen," said Montrose; "to that tribunal we all submit us."

Sir Duncan Campbell left the hall, accompanied by Allan M'Aulay and Lord
Menteith. "There goes a true-bred Campbell," said Montrose, as the envoy
departed, "for they are ever fair and false."

"Pardon me, my lord," said Evan Dhu; "hereditary enemy as I am to their
name, I have ever found the Knight of Ardenvohr brave in war, honest in
peace, and true in council."

"Of his own disposition," said Montrose, "such he is undoubtedly; but
he now acts as the organ or mouth-piece of his Chief, the Marquis, the
falsest man that ever drew breath. And, M'Aulay," he continued in a
whisper to his host, "lest he should make some impression upon the
inexperience of Menteith, or the singular disposition of your brother,
you had better send music into their chamber, to prevent his inveigling
them into any private conference."

"The devil a musician have I," answered M'Aulay, "excepting the piper,
who has nearly broke his wind by an ambitious contention for superiority
with three of his own craft; but I can send Annot Lyle and her harp."
And he left the apartment to give orders accordingly.

Meanwhile a warm discussion took place, who should undertake the
perilous task of returning with Sir Duncan to Inverary. To the higher
dignitaries, accustomed to consider themselves upon an equality even
with M'Callum More, this was an office not to be proposed; unto others
who could not plead the same excuse, it was altogether unacceptable. One
would have thought Inverary had been the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
the inferior chiefs showed such reluctance to approach it. After a
considerable hesitation, the plain reason was at length spoken
out, namely, that whatever Highlander should undertake an office so
distasteful to M'Callum More, he would be sure to treasure the offence
in his remembrance, and one day or other to make him bitterly repent of
it.

In this dilemma, Montrose, who considered the proposed armistice as
a mere stratagem on the part of Argyle, although he had not ventured
bluntly to reject it in presence of those whom it concerned so nearly,
resolved to impose the danger and dignity upon Captain Dalgetty, who had
neither clan nor estate in the Highlands upon which the wrath of Argyle
could wreak itself.

"But I have a neck though," said Dalgetty, bluntly; "and what if he
chooses to avenge himself upon that? I have known a case where an
honourable ambassador has been hanged as a spy before now. Neither did
the Romans use ambassadors much more mercifully at the siege of Capua,
although I read that they only cut off their hands and noses, put out
their eyes, and suffered them to depart in peace."

"By my honour Captain Dalgetty," said Montrose, "should the Marquis,
contrary to the rules of war, dare to practise any atrocity against you,
you may depend upon my taking such signal vengeance that all Scotland
shall ring of it."

"That will do but little for Dalgetty," returned the Captain; "but
corragio! as the Spaniard says. With the Land of Promise full in
view, the Moor of Drumthwacket, MEA PAUPERA REGNA, as we said at
Mareschal-College, I will not refuse your Excellency's commission,
being conscious it becomes a cavalier of honour to obey his commander's
orders, in defiance both of gibbet and sword."

"Gallantly resolved," said Montrose; "and if you will come apart with
me, I will furnish you with the conditions to be laid before M'Callum
More, upon which we are willing to grant him a truce for his Highland
dominions."

With these we need not trouble our readers. They were of an evasive
nature, calculated to meet a proposal which Montrose considered to have
been made only for the purpose of gaining time. When he had put Captain
Dalgetty in complete possession of his instructions, and when that
worthy, making his military obeisance, was near the door of his
apartment, Montrose made him a sign to return.

"I presume," said he, "I need not remind an officer who has served under
the great Gustavus, that a little more is required of a person sent with
a flag of truce than mere discharge of his instructions, and that his
general will expect from him, on his return, some account of the state
of the enemy's affairs, as far as they come under his observation. In
short, Captain Dalgetty, you must be UN PEU CLAIR-VOYANT."

"Ah ha! your Excellency," said the Captain, twisting his hard features
into an inimitable expression of cunning and intelligence, "if they do
not put my head in a poke, which I have known practised upon honourable
soldados who have been suspected to come upon such errands as the
present, your Excellency may rely on a preceese narration of whatever
Dugald Dalgetty shall hear or see, were it even how many turns of tune
there are in M'Callum More's pibroch, or how many checks in the sett of
his plaid and trews."

"Enough," answered Montrose; "farewell, Captain Dalgetty: and as they
say that a lady's mind is always expressed in her postscript, so I would
have you think that the most important part of your commission lies in
what I have last said to you."

Dalgetty once more grinned intelligence, and withdrew to victual his
charger and himself, for the fatigues of his approaching mission.