t waited at the table were just the wicked serving-men and
troopers, that had done their work and cruel bidding on earth. There was
the Lang Lad of the Nethertown, that helped to take Argyle; and the
Bishop's summoner, that they called the Deil's Rattle-bag; and the
wicked guardsmen, in their laced coats; and the savage Highland
Amorites, that shed blood like water; and many a proud serving-man,
haughty of heart and bloody of hand, cringing to the rich, and making
them wickeder than they would be; grinding the poor to powder, when the
rich had broken them to fragments. And mony, mony mair were coming and
ganging, a' as busy in their vocation as if they had been alive.

Sir Robert Redgauntlet, in the midst of a' this fearful riot, cried, wi'
a voice like thunder, on Steenie Piper, to come to the board-head where
he was sitting; his legs stretched out before him, and swathed up with
flannel, with his holster pistols aside him, while the great broadsword
rested against his chair, just as my gudesire had seen him the last time
upon earth--the very cushion for the jackanape was close to him, but the
creature itsell was not there--it wasna its hour, it's likely; for he
heard them say as he came forward, "Is not the Major come yet?" And
another answered, "The jackanape will be here betimes the morn." And
when my gudesire came forward, Sir Robert, or his ghaist, or the deevil
in his likeness, said, "Weel, piper, hae ye settled wi' my son for the
year's rent?"

With much ado my father gat breath to say, that Sir John would not
settle without his honour's receipt.

"Ye shall hae that for a tune of the pipes, Steenie," said the
appearance of Sir Robert--"Play us up 'Weel hoddled, Luckie.'"

Now this was a tune my gudesire learned frae a warlock, that heard it
when they were worshipping Satan at their meetings; and my gudesire had
sometimes played it at the ranting suppers in Redgauntlet Castle, but
never very willingly; and now he grew cauld at the very name of it, and
said, for excuse, he hadna his pipes wi' him.

"MacCallum, ye limb of Beelzebub," said the fearfu' Sir Robert, "bring
Steenie the pipes that I am keeping for him!"

MacCallum brought a pair of pipes might have served the piper of Donald
of the Isles. But he gave my gudesire a nudge as he offered them; and
looking secretly and closely, Steenie saw that the chanter was of steel,
and heated to a white heat; so he had fair warning not to trust his
fingers with it.