reseen that all the
MacDonalds would plunge into it, and his father with them, and was
rather uneasy at the havoc he had caused. For this would bring sorrow
upon the mother at home.

But Scotty could not be silent, he was alive with curiosity; and,
taking advantage of his grandfather's gloomy absorption, he crept out
from between the two on the front seat, and got close to the source of
all knowledge, Hamish.

He overflowed with questions. Why should the MacDonalds be helping
Orangemen? And hadn't Hash Tucker's father and a lot more from the
Tenth been on their side, too? And how in the name of all
nationalities did it happen that the Caldwells and the Tuckers came to
be fighting together against the Murphys? And weren't Orangemen far
worse than Fenians, anyway?

The confusion in Scotty's mind was like that which befell the builders
of the Tower of Babel; and for once Hamish failed to satisfy him. He
seemed rather ashamed of the fact that they had helped a Caldwell in
battle, and was rather inclined to drop the subject.

That evening at home was something new to Scotty. A gloomy silence
pervaded the place, and there was a look in Granny's eyes that made the
boy want to put his head into her lap and cry. There were no prayers
before they retired, either; there always came a stage in Big Malcolm's
repentence which consisted almost entirely of religious exercises, but
that was not yet.

Scotty felt vaguely that there was something terribly wrong, for the
boys, even Hamish, went off after supper, and Old Farquhar did not sing
his accustomed song before retiring. And when Scotty went up to bed in
the loft he left Granny praying by the bed in the corner, and he could
hear the steady tramp, tramp of his grandfather's feet up and down in
the snow outside. He half woke late in the night and found that Hamish
was beside him; the problems of the day were still troubling his dreams.

"Hamish," he whispered, "where's Cape Canady?"

"What?" growled Hamish sleepily.

"Where's Cape Canady? Tom Caldwell said somethin' about it, an' the
Master learned the Fourth Class all about capes yesterday, an' he
wouldn't be saying anything about that one!"

But Hamish was snoring; and outside the steady tramp, tramp of feet
went up and down in the snow.

V

THE REFORMATION

O strong hearts, guarding the birthright of our glory,
Worth your best blood this heritage that ye guard!
These mighty streams resplend