. To make short, early in October we reached
the Scottish capital, the formal relations which had been established
between Miss Macleod and me continuing to the end of the journey.

There lived in Edinburgh an unmarried aunt of Aileen, a Miss Flora MacBean
by name, and at her house I left the girl while I went to notify her
brother of our arrival. I found him lodged in High Street near the old
Flesh-market Close. Malcolm Macleod was a fine manly fellow of about three
and thirty, lusty and well-proportioned, very tanned and ruddy. He had a
quick lively eye and a firm good-humoured mouth. In brief, he was the very
picture of a frank open-hearted Highland gentleman, and in the gay Macleod
tartan looked as gallant a figure of a soldier as one would wish to see.
He greeted me with charming friendliness and expressed himself as deeply
gratified for my care of his sister, offering again and again to put
himself at my service in any way I might desire.

We walked down the street together, and more than once a shot plumped at
our feet, for the city was under fire from the Hanoverian garrison at the
castle. Everywhere the clansmen were in evidence. Barefooted and
barelegged Celts strutted about the city with their bonnets scrugged low
on their heads, the hair hanging wild over their eyes and the matted
beards covering their faces. For the most part they were very ragged, and
tanned exceedingly wherever the flesh took a peep through their outworn
plaids. They ran about the streets in groups, looking in shop windows like
children and talking their outlandish gibberish; then presently their
Highland pride would assert itself at the smile of some chance passer and
would send them swinging proudly off as though they had better things at
home.

Out of a tobacco shop came Captain Donald Roy singing blithely,

"'Will ye play me fair,
Highland laddie, Highland laddie?'"

He was of course in the full Macdonald tartan regimentals--checkered kilt,
sporran, plaid, a brace of pistols, a dirk in his stocking, and claymore.
At sight of me his face lighted and he came running forward with both
hands outstretched.

"And is it you at last, Kenn? Man, but I've been wearying for a sight of
your honest face. I was whiles thinking you must have given us the go-by.
Fegs, but it's a braw day and a sight guid for sair een to see you, lad.
You will have heard how we gave Johnnie Cope his kail through his reek."
H