"He is quartered about ten miles hence, busied with the affairs of
the funeral, and with preparations for the combat--the dead to
the grave and the living to battle."

"It is a long way, and will take you all night to go and come,"
said the glover; "and I am very sure that Conachar when he knows
it is I who--"

"Forget Conachar," said the herdsman, placing his finger on his
lips. "And as for the ten miles, they are but a Highland leap, when
one bears a message between his friend and his chief."

So saying, and committing the traveller to the charge of his eldest
son and his daughter, the active herdsman left his house two hours
before midnight, to which he returned long before sunrise. He did
not disturb his wearied guest, but when the old man had arisen in
the morning he acquainted him that the funeral of the late chieftain
was to take place the same day, and that, although Eachin MacIan
could not invite a Saxon to the funeral, he would be glad to receive
him at the entertainment which was to follow.

"His will must be obeyed," said the glover, half smiling at the
change of relation between himself and his late apprentice. "The man
is the master now, and I trust he will remember that, when matters
were otherwise between us, I did not use my authority ungraciously."

"Troutsho, friend!" exclaimed the Booshalloch, "the less of that
you say the better. You will find yourself a right welcome guest
to Eachin, and the deil a man dares stir you within his bounds.
But fare you well, for I must go, as beseems me, to the burial of
the best chief the clan ever had, and the wisest captain that ever
cocked the sweet gale (bog myrtle) in his bonnet. Farewell to you
for a while, and if you will go to the top of the Tom an Lonach behind
the house, you will see a gallant sight, and hear such a coronach
as will reach the top of Ben Lawers. A boat will wait for you,
three hours hence, at a wee bit creek about half a mile westward
from the head of the Tay."

With these words he took his departure, followed by his three sons,
to man the boat in which he was to join the rest of the mourners,
and two daughters, whose voices were wanted to join in the lament,
which was chanted, or rather screamed, on such occasions of general
affliction.

Simon Glover, finding himself alone, resorted to the stable to look
after his nag, which, he found, had been well served with graddan,
or bread made of scorched barley. Of this kindness he was fully
sensible, knowing that, probably, the family had little of this
delicacy left to themselves until the next harvest should bring
them a scanty supply. In animal food they were well provided, and
the lake found them abundance of fish for their lenten diet, which
they did not observe very strictly; but bread was a delicacy very
scanty in the Highlands. The bogs afforded a soft species of hay,
none of the best to be sure; but Scottish horses, like their riders,
were then accustomed to hard fare.

Gauntlet, for this was the name of the palfrey, had his stall crammed
full of dried fern for litter, and was otherwise as well provided
for as Highland hospitality could contrive.

Simon Glover being thus left to his own painful reflections, nothing
better remained, after having seen after the comforts of the dumb
companion of his journey, than to follow the herdsman's advice; and
ascending towards the top of an eminence called Tom an Lonach, or
the Knoll of Yew Trees, after a walk of half an hour he reached
the summit, and could look down on the broad expanse of the lake,
of which the height commanded a noble view. A few aged and scattered
yew trees of great size still vindicated for the beautiful green
hill the name attached to it. But a far greater number had fallen
a sacrifice to the general demand for bow staves in that warlike
age, the bow being a weapon much used by the mountaineers, though
those which they employed, as well as their arrows, were, in shape
and form, and especially in efficacy, far inferior to the archery
of merry England. The dark and shattered individual yews which
remained were like the veterans of a broken host, occupying in
disorder some post of advantage, with the stern purpose of resisting
to the last. Behind this eminence, but detached from it, arose
a higher hill, partly covered with copsewood, partly opening into
glades of pasture, where the cattle strayed, finding, at this season
of the year, a scanty sustenance among the spring heads and marshy
places, where the fresh grass began first to arise.

The opposite or northern shore of the lake presented a far more
Alpine prospect than that upon which the glover was stationed. Woods
and thickets ran up the sides of the mountains, and disappeared
among the sinuosities formed by the winding ravines which separated
them from each other; but far above these specimens of a tolerable
natural soil arose the swart and bare mountains themselves, in the
dark grey desolation proper to the season.

Some were peaked, some broad crested, some rocky and precipitous,
others of a tamer outline; and the clan of Titans seemed to be
commanded by their appropriate chieftains--the frowning mountain
of Ben Lawers, and the still more lofty eminence of Ben Mohr,
arising high above the rest, whose peaks retain a dazzling helmet
of snow far into the summer season, and sometimes during the
whole year. Yet the borders of this wild and silvan region, where
the mountains descended upon the lake, intimated, even at that
early period, many traces of human habitation. Hamlets were seen,
especially on the northern margin of the lake, half hid among the
little glens that poured their tributary streams into Loch Tay,
which, like many earthly things, made a fair show at a distance,
but, when more closely approached, were disgustful and repulsive,
from their squalid want of the conveniences which attend even Indian
wigwams. They were inhabited by a race who neither cultivated the
earth nor cared for the enjoyments which industry procures. The
women, although otherwise treated with affection, and even delicacy of
respect, discharged all the absolutely necessary domestic labour.
The men, excepting some reluctant use of an ill formed plough, or more
frequently a spade, grudgingly gone through, as a task infinitely
beneath them, took no other employment than the charge of the herds
of black cattle, in which their wealth consisted. At all other
times they hunted, fished, or marauded, during the brief intervals
of peace, by way of pastime; plundering with bolder license, and
fighting with embittered animosity, in time of war, which, public
or private, upon a broader or more restricted scale, formed the
proper business of their lives, and the only one which they esteemed
worthy of them.

The magnificent bosom of the lake itself was a scene to gaze on
with delight. Its noble breadth, with its termination in a full and
beautiful run, was rendered yet more picturesque by one of those
islets which are often happily situated in the Scottish lakes. The
ruins upon that isle, now almost shapeless, being overgrown with
wood rose, at the time we speak of, into the towers and pinnacles
of a priory, where slumbered the remains of Sibylla, daughter of
Henry I of England, and consort of Alexander the First of Scotland.
This holy place had been deemed of dignity sufficient to be
the deposit of the remains of the captain of the Clan Quhele, at
least till times when the removal of the danger, now so imminently
pressing, should permit of his body being conveyed to a distinguished
convent in the north, where he was destined ultimately to repose
with all his ancestry.

A number of boats pushed off from various points of the near
and more distant shore, many displaying sable banners, and others
having their several pipers in the bow, who from time to time poured
forth a few notes of a shrill, plaintive, and wailing character,
and intimated to the glover that the ceremony was about to take
place. These sounds of lamentation were but the tuning as it were
of the instruments, compared with the general wail which was speedily
to be raised.

A distant sound was heard from far up the lake, even as it seemed
from the remote and distant glens out of which the Dochart and the
Lochy pour their streams into Loch Tay. It was in a wild, inaccessible
spot, where the Campbells at a subsequent period founded their
strong fortress of Finlayrigg, that the redoubted commander of the
Clan Quhele drew his last breath; and, to give due pomp to his
funeral, his corpse was now to be brought down the loch to the
island assigned for his temporary place of rest. The funeral fleet,
led by the chieftain's barge, from which a huge black banner was
displayed, had made more than two thirds of its voyage ere it was
visible from the eminence on which Simon Glover stood to overlook
the ceremony. The instant the distant wail of the coronach was
heard proceeding from the attendants on the funeral barge, all
the subordinate sounds of lamentation were hushed at once, as the
raven ceases to croak and the hawk to whistle whenever the scream
of the eagle is heard. The boats, which had floated hither and thither
upon the lake, like a flock of waterfowl dispersing themselves on
its surface, now drew together with an appearance of order, that
the funeral flotilla might pass onward, and that they themselves
might fall into their proper places. In the mean while the piercing
din of the war pipes became louder and louder, and the cry from the
numberless boats which followed that from which the black banner of
the chief was displayed rose in wild unison up to the Tom an Lonach,
from which the glover viewed the spectacle. The galley which headed
the procession bore on its poop a species of scaffold, upon which,
arrayed in white linen, and with the face bare, was displayed the
corpse of the deceased chieftain. His son and the nearest relatives
filled the vessel, while a great number of boats, of every description
that could be assembled, either on Loch Tay itself or brought by
land carriage from Loch Earn and otherwise, followed in the rear,
some of them of very frail materials. There were even curraghs,
composed of ox hides stretched over hoops of willow, in the manner
of the ancient British, and some committed themselves to rafts
formed for the occasion, from the readiest materials that occurred,
and united in such a precarious manner as to render it probable
that, before the accomplishment of the voyage, some of the clansmen
of the deceased might be sent to attend their chieftain in the
world of spirits.

When the principal flotilla came in sight of the smaller group of
boats collected towards the foot of the lake, and bearing off from
the little island, they hailed each other with a shout so loud and
general, and terminating in a cadence so wildly prolonged, that
not only the deer started from their glens for miles around, and
sought the distant recesses of the mountains, but even the domestic
cattle, accustomed to the voice of man, felt the full panic which
the human shout strikes into the wilder tribes, and like them fled
from their pasture into morasses and dingles.

Summoned forth from their convent by those sounds, the monks who
inhabited the little islet began to issue from their lowly portal,
with cross and banner, and as much of ecclesiastical state as they
had the means of displaying; their bells at the same time, of which
the edifice possessed three, pealing the death toll over the long
lake, which came to the ears of the now silent multitude, mingled
with the solemn chant of the Catholic Church, raised by the monks
in their procession. Various ceremonies were gone through, while
the kindred of the deceased carried the body ashore, and, placing it
on a bank long consecrated to the purpose, made the deasil around
the departed. When the corpse was uplifted to be borne into the
church, another united yell burst from the assembled multitude,
in which the deep shout of warriors and the shrill wail of females
joined their notes with the tremulous voice of age and the babbling
cry of childhood. The coronach was again, and for the last time,
shrieked as the body was carried into the interior of the church,
where only the nearest relatives of the deceased and the most
distinguished of the leaders of the clan were permitted to enter.
The last yell of woe was so terribly loud, and answered by so many
hundred echoes, that the glover instinctively raised his hands to
his ears, to shut out, or deaden at least, a sound so piercing. He
kept this attitude while the hawks, owls, and other birds, scared
by the wild scream, had begun to settle in their retreats, when,
as he withdrew his hands, a voice close by him said:

"Think you this, Simon Glover, the hymn of penitence and praise
with which it becomes poor forlorn man, cast out from his tenement
of clay, to be wafted into the presence of his maker?"

The glover turned, and in the old man with a long white beard who
stood close beside him had no difficulty, from the clear mild eye
and the benevolent cast of features, to recognise the Carthusian
monk Father Clement, no longer wearing his monastic habiliments,
but wrapped in a frieze mantle and having a Highland cap on his
head.

It may be recollected that the glover regarded this man with
a combined feeling of respect and dislike--respect, which his
judgment could not deny to the monk's person and character, and
dislike, which arose from Father Clement's peculiar doctrines being
the cause of his daughter's exile and his own distress. It was not,
therefore, with sentiments of unmixed satisfaction that he returned
the greetings of the father, and replied to the reiterated question,
what he thought of the funeral rites which were discharged in so
wild a manner: "I know not, my good father; but these men do their
duty to their deceased chief according to the fashion of their
ancestors: they mean to express their regret for their friend's
loss and their prayers to Heaven in his behalf; and that which is
done of goodwill must, to my thinking, be accepted favourably. Had
it been otherwise, methinks they had ere now been enlightened to
do better."

"Thou art deceived," answered the monk. "God has sent His light
amongst us all, though in various proportions; but man wilfully
shuts his eyes and prefers darkness. This benighted people mingle
with the ritual of the Roman Church the old heathen ceremonies of
their own fathers, and thus unite with the abominations of a church
corrupted by wealth and power the cruel and bloody ritual of savage
paynims."

"Father," said Simon, abruptly, "methinks your presence were more
useful in yonder chapel, aiding your brethren in the discharge of
their clerical duties, than in troubling and unsettling the belief
of an humble though ignorant Christian like myself."

"And wherefore say, good brother, that I would unfix thy principles
of belief?" answered Clement. "So Heaven deal with me, as, were
my life blood necessary to cement the mind of any man to the holy
religion he professeth, it should be freely poured out for the
purpose."

"Your speech is fair, father, I grant you," said the glover; "but
if I am to judge the doctrine by the fruits, Heaven has punished
me by the hand of the church for having hearkened thereto. Ere I
heard you, my confessor was little moved though I might have owned
to have told a merry tale upon the ale bench, even if a friar or
a nun were the subject. If at a time I had called Father Hubert a
better hunter of hares than of souls, I confessed me to the Vicar
Vinesauf, who laughed and made me pay a reckoning for penance; or
if I had said that the Vicar Vinesauf was more constant to his cup
than to his breviary, I confessed me to Father Hubert, and a new
hawking glove made all well again; and thus I, my conscience, and
Mother Church lived together on terms of peace, friendship, and
mutual forbearance. But since I have listened to you, Father Clement,
this goodly union is broke to pieces, and nothing is thundered in
my ear but purgatory in the next world and fire and fagot in this.
Therefore, avoid you, Father Clement, or speak to those who can
understand your doctrine. I have no heart to be a martyr: I have
never in my whole life had courage enough so much as to snuff a
candle with my fingers; and, to speak the truth, I am minded to go
back to Perth, sue out my pardon in the spiritual court, carry my
fagot to the gallows foot in token of recantation, and purchase
myself once more the name of a good Catholic, were it at the price
of all the worldly wealth that remains to me."

"You are angry, my dearest brother," said Clement, "and repent you
on the pinch of a little worldly danger and a little worldly loss
for the good thoughts which you once entertained."

"You speak at ease, Father Clement, since I think you have long
forsworn the wealth and goods of the world, and are prepared to
yield up your life when it is demanded in exchange for the doctrine
you preach and believe. You are as ready to put on your pitched
shirt and brimstone head gear as a naked man is to go to his bed,
and it would seem you have not much more reluctance to the ceremony.
But I still wear that which clings to me. My wealth is still my
own, and I thank Heaven it is a decent pittance whereon to live; my
life, too, is that of a hale old man of sixty, who is in no haste
to bring it to a close; and if I were poor as Job and on the edge
of the grave, must I not still cling to my daughter, whom your
doctrines have already cost so dear?"

"Thy daughter, friend Simon," said the Carmelite [Carthusian], "may
be truly called an angel upon earth."

"Ay, and by listening to your doctrines, father, she is now like
to be called on to be an angel in heaven, and to be transported
thither in a chariot of fire."

"Nay, my good brother," said Clement, "desist, I pray you, to speak
of what you little understand. Since it is wasting time to show
thee the light that thou chafest against, yet listen to that which
I have to say touching thy daughter, whose temporal felicity, though
I weigh it not even for an instant in the scale against that which
is spiritual, is, nevertheless, in its order, as dear to Clement
Blair as to her own father."

The tears stood in the old man's eyes as he spoke, and Simon Glover
was in some degree mollified as he again addressed him.

"One would think thee, Father Clement, the kindest and most amiable
of men; how comes it, then, that thy steps are haunted by general
ill will wherever thou chancest to turn them? I could lay my life
thou hast contrived already to offend yonder half score of poor
friars in their water girdled cage, and that you have been prohibited
from attendance on the funeral?"

"Even so, my son," said the Carthusian, "and I doubt whether their
malice will suffer me to remain in this country. I did but speak a
few sentences about the superstition and folly of frequenting St.
Fillan's church, to detect theft by means of his bell, of bathing
mad patients in his pool, to cure their infirmity of mind; and lo!
the persecutors have cast me forth of their communion, as they will
speedily cast me out of this life."

"Lo you there now," said the glover, "see what it is for a man that
cannot take a warning! Well, Father Clement, men will not cast me
forth unless it were as a companion of yours. I pray you, therefore,
tell me what you have to say of my daughter, and let us be less
neighbours than we have been."

"This, then, brother Simon, I have to acquaint you with. This young
chief, who is swoln with contemplation of his own power and glory,
loves one thing better than it all, and that is thy daughter."

"He, Conachar!" exclaimed Simon. "My runagate apprentice look up
to my daughter!"

"Alas!" said Clement, "how close sits our worldly pride, even as
ivy clings to the wall, and cannot be separated! Look up to thy
daughter, good Simon? Alas, no! The captain of Clan Quhele, great
as he is, and greater as he soon expects to be, looks down to
the daughter of the Perth burgess, and considers himself demeaned
in doing so. But, to use his own profane expression, Catharine is
dearer to him than life here and Heaven hereafter: he cannot live
without her."

"Then he may die, if he lists," said Simon Glover, "for she is
betrothed to an honest burgess of Perth; and I would not break my
word to make my daughter bride to the Prince of Scotland."

"I thought it would be your answer," replied the monk; "I would,
worthy friend, thou couldst carry into thy spiritual concerns some
part of that daring and resolved spirit with which thou canst direct
thy temporal affairs."

"Hush thee--hush, Father Clement!" answered the glover; "when
thou fallest into that vein of argument, thy words savour of blazing
tar, and that is a scent I like not. As to Catharine, I must manage
as I can, so as not to displease the young dignitary; but well is
it for me that she is far beyond his reach."

"She must then be distant indeed," said the Carmelite [Carthusian].
"And now, brother Simon, since you think it perilous to own me
and my opinions, I must walk alone with my own doctrines and the
dangers they draw on me. But should your eye, less blinded than it
now is by worldly hopes and fears, ever turn a glance back on him
who soon may be snatched from you, remember, that by nought save
a deep sense of the truth and importance of the doctrine which
he taught could Clement Blair have learned to encounter, nay, to
provoke, the animosity of the powerful and inveterate, to alarm
the fears of the jealous and timid, to walk in the world as he
belonged not to it, and to be accounted mad of men, that he might,
if possible, win souls to God. Heaven be my witness, that I would
comply in all lawful things to conciliate the love and sympathy
of my fellow creatures! It is no light thing to be shunned by the
worthy as an infected patient, to be persecuted by the Pharisees
of the day as an unbelieving heretic, to be regarded with horror
at once and contempt by the multitude, who consider me as a madman,
who may be expected to turn mischievous. But were all those evils
multiplied an hundredfold, the fire within must not be stifled,
the voice which says within me 'Speak' must receive obedience. Woe
unto me if I preach not the Gospel, even should I at length preach
it from amidst the pile of flames!"

So spoke this bold witness, one of those whom Heaven raised up from
time to time to preserve amidst the most ignorant ages, and to carry
down to those which succeed them, a manifestation of unadulterated
Christianity, from the time of the Apostles to the age when,
favoured by the invention of printing, the Reformation broke out
in full splendour. The selfish policy of the glover was exposed
in his own eyes; and he felt himself contemptible as he saw the
Carthusian turn from him in all the hallowedness of resignation.
He was even conscious of a momentary inclination to follow the
example of the preacher's philanthropy and disinterested zeal, but
it glanced like a flash of lightning through a dark vault, where
there lies nothing to catch the blaze; and he slowly descended the
hill in a direction different from that of the Carthusian, forgetting
him and his doctrines, and buried in anxious thoughts about his
child's fate and his own.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

What want these outlaws conquerors should have
But history's purchased page to call them great,
A wider space, an ornamented grave?
Their hopes were not less warm, their souls were full as brave.

BYRON.


The funeral obsequies being over, the same flotilla which had
proceeded in solemn and sad array down the lake prepared to return
with displayed banners, and every demonstration of mirth and joy;
for there was but brief time to celebrate festivals when the awful
conflict betwixt the Clan Quhele and their most formidable rivals
so nearly approached. It had been agreed, therefore, that the funeral
feast should be blended with that usually given at the inauguration
of the young chief.

Some objections were made to this arrangement, as containing an evil
omen. But, on the other hand, it had a species of recommendation,
from the habits and feelings of the Highlanders, who, to this day,
are wont to mingle a degree of solemn mirth with their mourning,
and something resembling melancholy with their mirth. The usual
aversion to speak or think of those who have been beloved and lost
is less known to this grave and enthusiastic race than it is to
others. You hear not only the young mention (as is everywhere usual)
the merits and the character of parents, who have, in the course
of nature, predeceased them; but the widowed partner speaks,
in ordinary conversation, of the lost spouse, and, what is still
stranger, the parents allude frequently to the beauty or valour
of the child whom they have interred. The Scottish Highlanders
appear to regard the separation of friends by death as something
less absolute and complete than it is generally esteemed in other
countries, and converse of the dear connexions who have sought the
grave before them as if they had gone upon a long journey in which
they themselves must soon follow. The funeral feast, therefore,
being a general custom throughout Scotland, was not, in the opinion
of those who were to share it, unseemingly mingled, on the present
occasion, with the festivities which hailed the succession to the
chieftainship.

The barge which had lately borne the dead to the grave now conveyed
the young MacIan to his new command and the minstrels sent forth
their gayest notes to gratulate Eachin's succession, as they had
lately sounded their most doleful dirges when carrying Gilchrist
to his grave. From the attendant flotilla rang notes of triumph and
jubilee, instead of those yells of lamentation which had so lately
disturbed the echoes of Loch Tay; and a thousand voices hailed the
youthful chieftain as he stood on the poop, armed at all points,
in the flower of early manhood, beauty, and activity, on the very
spot where his father's corpse had so lately been extended, and
surrounded by triumphant friends, as that had been by desolate
mourners.

One boat kept closest of the flotilla to the honoured galley.
Torquil of the Oak, a grizzled giant, was steersman; and his eight
sons, each exceeding the ordinary stature of mankind, pulled the
oars. Like some powerful and favourite wolf hound, unloosed from
his couples, and frolicking around a liberal master, the boat of
the foster brethren passed the chieftain's barge, now on one side
and now on another, and even rowed around it, as if in extravagance
of joy; while, at the same time, with the jealous vigilance of
the animal we have compared it to, they made it dangerous for any
other of the flotilla to approach so near as themselves, from the
risk of being run down by their impetuous and reckless manoeuvres.
Raised to an eminent rank in the clan by the succession of their
foster brother to the command of the Clan Quhele, this was the
tumultuous and almost terrible mode in which they testified their
peculiar share in their chief's triumph.

Far behind, and with different feelings, on the part of one at
least of the company, came the small boat in which, manned by the
Booshalloch and one of his sons, Simon Glover was a passenger.

"If we are bound for the head of the lake," said Simon to his
friend, "we shall hardly be there for hours."

But as he spoke the crew of the boat of the foster brethren, or
leichtach, on a signal from the chief's galley, lay on their oars
until the Booshalloch's boat came up, and throwing on board a
rope of hides, which Niel made fast to the head of his skiff, they
stretched to their oars once more, and, notwithstanding they had
the small boat in tow, swept through the lake with almost the same
rapidity as before. The skiff was tugged on with a velocity which
seemed to hazard the pulling her under water, or the separation of
her head from her other timbers.

Simon Glover saw with anxiety the reckless fury of their course,
and the bows of the boat occasionally brought within an inch or two
of the level of the water; and though his friend, Niel Booshalloch,
assured him it was all done in especial honour, he heartily wished
his voyage might have a safe termination. It had so, and much
sooner than he apprehended; for the place of festivity was not
four miles distant from the sepulchral island, being chosen to suit
the chieftain's course, which lay to the southeast, so soon as the
banquet should be concluded. A bay on the southern side of Loch Tay
presented a beautiful beach of sparkling sand, on which the boats
might land with ease, and a dry meadow, covered with turf, verdant
considering the season, behind and around which rose high banks,
fringed with copsewood, and displaying the lavish preparations
which had been made for the entertainment.

The Highlanders, well known for ready hatchet men, had constructed
a long arbour or silvan banqueting room, capable of receiving two
hundred men, while a number of smaller huts around seemed intended
for sleeping apartments. The uprights, the couples, and roof tree
of the temporary hall were composed of mountain pine, still covered
with its bark. The framework of the sides was of planks or spars
of the same material, closely interwoven with the leafy boughs of
the fir and other evergreens, which the neighbouring woods afforded,
while the hills had furnished plenty of heath to form the roof.
Within this silvan palace the most important personages present
were invited to hold high festival. Others of less note were to
feast in various long sheds constructed with less care; and tables
of sod, or rough planks, placed in the open air, were allotted
to the numberless multitude. At a distance were to be seen piles
of glowing charcoal or blazing wood, around which countless cooks
toiled, bustled, and fretted, like so many demons working in their
native element. Pits, wrought in the hillside, and lined with
heated stones, served as ovens for stewing immense quantities of
beef, mutton, and venison; wooden spits supported sheep and goats,
which were roasted entire; others were cut into joints, and seethed
in caldrons made of the animal's own skins, sewed hastily together
and filled with water; while huge quantities of pike, trout,
salmon, and char were broiled with more ceremony on glowing embers.
The glover had seen many a Highland banquet, but never one the
preparations for which were on such a scale of barbarous profusion.

He had little time, however, to admire the scene around him for,
as soon as they landed on the beach, the Booshalloch observed with
some embarrassment, that, as they had not been bidden to the table
of the dais, to which he seemed to have expected an invitation, they
had best secure a place in one of the inferior bothies or booths;
and was leading the way in that direction, when he was stopped by
one of the bodyguards, seeming to act as master of ceremonies, who
whispered something in his ear.

"I thought so," said the herdsman, much relieved--"I thought
neither the stranger nor the man that has my charge would be left
out at the high table."

They were conducted accordingly into the ample lodge, within which
were long ranges of tables already mostly occupied by the guests,
while those who acted as domestics were placing upon them the
abundant though rude materials of the festival. The young chief,
although he certainly saw the glover and the herdsman enter, did
not address any personal salute to either, and their places were
assigned them in a distant corner, far beneath the salt, a huge
piece of antique silver plate, the only article of value that the
table displayed, and which was regarded by the clan as a species
of palladium, only produced and used on the most solemn occasions,
such as the present.

The Booshalloch, somewhat discontented, muttered to Simon as he
took his place: "These are changed days, friend. His father, rest
his soul, would have spoken to us both; but these are bad manners
which he has learned among you Sassenachs in the Low Country."

To this remark the glover did not think it necessary to reply;
instead of which he adverted to the evergreens, and particularly
to the skins and other ornaments with which the interior of the
bower was decorated. The most remarkable part of these ornaments
was a number of Highland shirts of mail, with steel bonnets, battle
axes, and two handed swords to match, which hung around the upper
part of the room, together with targets highly and richly embossed.
Each mail shirt was hung over a well dressed stag's hide, which at
once displayed the armour to advantage and saved it from suffering
by damp.

"These," whispered the Booshalloch, "are the arms of the chosen
champions of the Clan Quhele. They are twenty-nine in number, as
you see, Eachin himself being the thirtieth, who wears his armour
today, else had there been thirty. And he has not got such a good
hauberk after all as he should wear on Palm Sunday. These nine
suits of harness, of such large size, are for the leichtach, from
whom so much is expected."

"And these goodly deer hides," said Simon, the spirit of his
profession awakening at the sight of the goods in which he traded
--"think you the chief will be disposed to chaffer for them?
They are in demand for the doublets which knights wear under their
armour."

"Did I not pray you," said Niel Booshalloch, "to say nothing on
that subject?"

"It is the mail shirts I speak of," said Simon--"may I ask if any
of them were made by our celebrated Perth armourer, called Henry
of the Wynd?"

"Thou art more unlucky than before," said Niel, "that man's name
is to Eachin's temper like a whirlwind upon the lake; yet no man
knows for what cause."

"I can guess," thought our glover, but gave no utterance to
the thought; and, having twice lighted on unpleasant subjects of
conversation, he prepared to apply himself, like those around him,
to his food, without starting another topic.

We have said as much of the preparations as may lead the reader to
conclude that the festival, in respect of the quality of the food,
was of the most rude description, consisting chiefly of huge joints
of meat, which were consumed with little respect to the fasting
season, although several of the friars of the island convent graced
and hallowed the board by their presence. The platters were of
wood, and so were the hooped cogues or cups out of which the guests
quaffed their liquor, as also the broth or juice of the meat, which
was held a delicacy. There were also various preparations of milk
which were highly esteemed, and were eaten out of similar vessels.
Bread was the scarcest article at the banquet, but the glover and
his patron Niel were served with two small loaves expressly for
their own use. In eating, as, indeed, was then the case all over
Britain, the guests used their knives called skenes, or the large
poniards named dirks, without troubling themselves by the reflection
that they might occasionally have served different or more fatal
purposes.

At the upper end of the table stood a vacant seat, elevated a step
or two above the floor. It was covered with a canopy of hollow
boughs and ivy, and there rested against it a sheathed sword and
a folded banner. This had been the seat of the deceased chieftain,
and was left vacant in honour of him. Eachin occupied a lower chair
on the right hand of the place of honour.

The reader would be greatly mistaken who should follow out this
description by supposing that the guests behaved like a herd of
hungry wolves, rushing upon a feast rarely offered to them. On the
contrary, the Clan Quhele conducted themselves with that species
of courteous reserve and attention to the wants of others which
is often found in primitive nations, especially such as are always
in arms, because a general observance of the rules of courtesy is
necessary to prevent quarrels, bloodshed, and death. 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.
Thus placed in order, the company patiently waited for the portion
assigned them, which was distributed among them by the leichtach;
the bravest men or more distinguished warriors of the tribe being
accommodated with a double mess, emphatically called bieyfir, or
the portion of a man. When the sewers themselves had seen every one
served, they resumed their places at the festival, and were each
served with one of these larger messes of food. Water was placed
within each man's reach, and a handful of soft moss served the
purposes of a table napkin, so that, as at an Eastern banquet, the
hands were washed as often as the mess was changed. For amusement,
the bard recited the praises of the deceased chief, and expressed
the clan's confidence in the blossoming virtues of his successor.
The seannachie recited the genealogy of the tribe, which they traced
to the race of the Dalriads; the harpers played within, while the
war pipes cheered the multitude without. The conversation among the
guests was grave, subdued, and civil; no jest was attempted beyond
the bounds of a very gentle pleasantry, calculated only to excite
a passing smile. There were no raised voices, no contentious
arguments; and Simon Glover had heard a hundred times more noise
at a guild feast in Perth than was made on this occasion by two
hundred wild mountaineers.

Even the liquor itself did not seem to raise the festive party
above the same tone of decorous gravity. It was of various kinds.
Wine appeared in very small quantities, and was served out only
to the principal guests, among which honoured number Simon Glover
was again included. The wine and the two wheaten loaves were indeed
the only marks of notice which he received during the feast; but
Niel Booshalloch, jealous of his master's reputation for hospitality,
failed not to enlarge on them as proofs of high distinction.
Distilled liquors, since so generally used in the Highlands, were
then comparatively unknown. The usquebaugh was circulated in small
quantities, and was highly flavoured with a decoction of saffron
and other herbs, so as to resemble a medicinal potion rather than
a festive cordial. Cider and mead were seen at the entertainment,
but ale, brewed in great quantities for the purpose, and flowing
round without restriction, was the liquor generally used, and that
was drunk with a moderation much less known among the more modern
Highlanders. A cup to the memory of the deceased chieftain was the
first pledge solemnly proclaimed after the banquet was finished,
and a low murmur of benedictions was heard from the company, while
the monks alone, uplifting their united voices, sung Requiem eternam
dona. An unusual silence followed, as if something extraordinary
was expected, when Eachin arose with a bold and manly, yet modest,
grace, and ascended the vacant seat or throne, saying with dignity
and firmness:

"This seat and my father's inheritance I claim as my right--so
prosper me God and St. Barr!"

"How will you rule your father's children?" said an old man, the
uncle of the deceased.

"I will defend them with my father's sword, and distribute justice
to them under my father's banner."

The old man, with a trembling hand, unsheathed the ponderous
weapon, and, holding it by the blade, offered the hilt to the young
chieftain's grasp; at the same time Torquil of the Oak unfurled
the pennon of the tribe, and swung it repeatedly over Eachin's
head, who, with singular grace and dexterity, brandished the huge
claymore as in its defence. The guests raised a yelling shout to
testify their acceptance of the patriarchal chief who claimed their
allegiance, nor was there any who, in the graceful and agile youth
before them, was disposed to recollect the subject of sinister
vaticinations. As he stood in glittering mail, resting on the long
sword, and acknowledging by gracious gestures the acclamations
which rent the air within, without, and around, Simon Glover was
tempted to doubt whether this majestic figure was that of the same
lad whom he had often treated with little ceremony, and began to
have some apprehension of the consequences of having done so. A
general burst of minstrelsy succeeded to the acclamations, and rock
and greenwood rang to harp and pipes, as lately to shout and yell
of woe.

It would be tedious to pursue the progress of the inaugural feast,
or detail the pledges that were quaffed to former heroes of the
clan, and above all to the twenty-nine brave galloglasses who were
to fight in the approaching conflict, under the eye and leading of
their young chief. The bards, assuming in old times the prophetic
character combined with their own, ventured to assure them of the
most distinguished victory, and to predict the fury with which the
blue falcon, the emblem of the Clan Quhele, should rend to pieces
the mountain cat, the well known badge of the Clan Chattan.

It was approaching sunset when a bowl, called the grace cup, made
of oak, hooped with silver, was handed round the table as the signal
of dispersion, although it was left free to any who chose a longer
carouse to retreat to any of the outer bothies. As for Simon Glover,
the Booshalloch conducted him to a small hut, contrived, it would
seem, for the use of a single individual, where a bed of heath and
moss was arranged as well as the season would permit, and an ample
supply of such delicacies as the late feast afforded showed that
all care had been taken for the inhabitant's accommodation.

"Do not leave this hut," said the Booshalloch, taking leave of his
friend and protege: "this is your place of rest. But apartments
are lost on such a night of confusion, and if the badger leaves
his hole the toad will creep into it."

To Simon Glover this arrangement was by no means disagreeable. He had
been wearied by the noise of the day, and felt desirous of repose.
After eating, therefore, a morsel, which his appetite scarce
required, and drinking a cup of wine to expel the cold, he muttered
his evening prayer, wrapt himself in his cloak, and lay down on
a couch which old acquaintance had made familiar and easy to him.
The hum and murmur, and even the occasional shouts, of some of
the festive multitude who continued revelling without did not long
interrupt his repose, and in about ten minutes he was as fast asleep
as if he had lain in his own bed in Curfew Street.



CHAPTER XXIX.

Still harping on my daughter.

Hamlet.


Two hours before the black cock crew, Simon Glover was wakened by
a well known voice, which called him by name.

"What, Conachar!" he replied, as he started from sleep, "is the
morning so far advanced?" and, raising his eyes, the person of whom
he was dreaming stood before him; and at the same moment, the events
of yesterday rushing on his recollection, he saw with surprise that
the vision retained the form which sleep had assigned it, and it
was not the mail clad Highland chief, with claymore in hand, as he
had seen him the preceding night, but Conachar of Curfew Street,
in his humble apprentice's garb, holding in his hand a switch of
oak. An apparition would not more have surprised our Perth burgher.
As he gazed with wonder, the youth turned upon him a piece of
lighted bog wood which he carried in a lantern, and to his waking
exclamation replied:

"Even so, father Simon: it is Conachar, come to renew our old
acquaintance, when our intercourse will attract least notice."

So saying, he sat down on a tressel which answered the purpose of
a chair, and placing the lantern beside him, proceeded in the most
friendly tone:

"I have tasted of thy good cheer many a day, father Simon; I trust
thou hast found no lack in my family?"

"None whatever, Eachin MacIan," answered the glover, for the
simplicity of the Celtic language and manners rejects all honorary
titles; "it was even too good for this fasting season, and much too
good for me, since I must be ashamed to think how hard you fared
in Curfew Street."

"Even too well, to use your own word," said Conachar, "for the
deserts of an idle apprentice and for the wants of a young Highlander.
But yesterday, if there was, as I trust, enough of food, found you
not, good glover, some lack of courteous welcome? Excuse it not
--I know you did so. But I am young in authority with my people,
and I must not too early draw their attention to the period of my
residence in the Lowlands, which, however, I can never forget."

"I understand the cause entirely," said Simon; "and therefore it
is unwillingly, and as it were by force, that I have made so early
a visit hither."

"Hush, father--hush! It is well you are come to see some of my
Highland splendour while it yet sparkles. Return after Palm Sunday,
and who knows whom or what you may find in the territories we now
possess! The wildcat may have made his lodge where the banqueting
bower of MacIan now stands."

The young chief was silent, and pressed the top of the rod to his
lips, as if to guard against uttering more.

"There is no fear of that, Eachin," said Simon, in that vague way
in which lukewarm comforters endeavour to turn the reflections of
their friends from the consideration of inevitable danger.

"There is fear, and there is peril of utter ruin," answered Eachin,
"and there is positive certainty of great loss. I marvel my father
consented to this wily proposal of Albany. I would MacGillie Chattanach
would agree with me, and then, instead of wasting our best blood
against each other, we would go down together to Strathmore and
kill and take possession. I would rule at Perth and he at Dundee,
and all the great strath should be our own to the banks of the Firth
of Tay. Such is the policy I have caught from your old grey head,
father Simon, when holding a trencher at thy back, and listening
to thy evening talk with Bailie Craigdallie."

"The tongue is well called an unruly member," thought the glover.
"Here have I been holding a candle to the devil, to show him the
way to mischief."

But he only said aloud: "These plans come too late."

"Too late indeed!" answered Eachin. "The indentures of battle are
signed by our marks and seals, the burning hate of the Clan Quhele
and Clan Chattan is blown up to an inextinguishable flame by
mutual insults and boasts. Yes, the time is passed by. But to thine
own affairs, father Glover. It is religion that has brought thee
hither, as I learn from Niel Booshalloch. Surely, my experience of
thy prudence did not lead me to suspect thee of any quarrel with
Mother Church. As for my old acquaintance, Father Clement, he is one
of those who hunt after the crown of martyrdom, and think a stake,
surrounded with blazing fagots, better worth embracing than a
willing bride. He is a very knight errant in defence of his religious
notions, and does battle wherever he comes. He hath already a
quarrel with the monks of Sibyl's Isle yonder about some point of
doctrine. Hast seen him?"

"I have," answered Simon; "but we spoke little together, the time
being pressing."

"He may have said that there is a third person--one more likely,
I think, to be a true fugitive for religion than either you, a
shrewd citizen, or he, a wrangling preacher--who would be right
heartily welcome to share our protection? Thou art dull, man, and
wilt not guess my meaning--thy daughter, Catharine."

These last words the young chief spoke in English; and he continued
the conversation in that language, as if apprehensive of being
overheard, and, indeed, as if under the sense of some involuntary
hesitation.

"My daughter Catharine," said the glover, remembering what the
Carthusian had told him, "is well and safe."

"But where or with whom?" said the young chief. "And wherefore came
she not with you? Think you the Clan Quhele have no cailliachs as
active as old Dorothy, whose hand has warmed my haffits before now,
to wait upon the daughter of their chieftain's master?"

"Again I thank you," said the glover, "and doubt neither your power
nor your will to protect my daughter, as well as myself. But an
honourable lady, the friend of Sir Patrick Charteris, hath offered
her a safe place of refuge without the risk of a toilsome journey
through a desolate and distracted country."

"Oh, ay, Sir Patrick Charteris," said Eachin, in a more reserved
and distant tone; "he must be preferred to all men, without doubt.
He is your friend, I think?"

Simon Glover longed to punish this affectation of a boy who had been
scolded four times a day for running into the street to see Sir
Patrick Charteris ride past; but he checked his spirit of repartee,
and simply said:

"Sir Patrick Charteris has been provost of Perth for seven years,
and it is likely is so still, since the magistrates are elected,
not in Lent, but at St. Martinmas."

"Ah, father Glover," said the youth, in his kinder and more familiar
mode of address, "you are so used to see the sumptuous shows and
pageants of Perth, that you would but little relish our barbarous
festival in comparison. What didst thou think of our ceremonial of
yesterday?"

"It was noble and touching," said the glover; "and to me, who knew
your father, most especially so. When you rested on the sword and
looked around you, methought I saw mine old friend Gilchrist MacIan
arisen from the dead and renewed in years and in strength."

"I played my part there boldly, I trust; and showed little of that
paltry apprentice boy whom you used to--use just as he deserved?"

"Eachin resembles Conachar," said the glover, "no more than a
salmon resembles a gar, though men say they are the same fish in
a different state, or than a butterfly resembles a grub."

"Thinkest thou that, while I was taking upon me the power which
all women love, I would have been myself an object for a maiden's
eye to rest upon? To speak plain, what would Catharine have thought
of me in the ceremonial?"

"We approach the shallows now," thought Simon Glover, "and without
nice pilotage we drive right on shore."