"

All in the pleasant sunshine the people walked abroad on the
plain-stones; a piper of the company of Boboon the wanderer, with but
two drones to his instrument, played the old rant of the clan as Duke
George went past on a thoroughbred horse.

"Do you hear yon?" asked the Paymaster, opening the parlour window to
let in that mountain strain his brother loved so truly.

The Cornal cocked an ear, drew down shaggy brows on his attention, and
studied, musingly, the tune that hummed from the reeds below.

"'Baile Inneraora'!" said he. "I wish it was 'Bundle and Go.' That's
the tune now for Colin Campbell, for old Colin Campbell, for poor Colin
Campbell who once was young and wealthy. I've seen the day that rant
would set something stirring here "--and he struck a bony hand upon
his breast "Now there's not a move"--and he searched still with fingers
above his heart. "Not a move! There's only a clod inside where once
there was a bird."

He stood with his head a little to the side, listening to the piper till
the tune died, half accomplished, at a tavern door. Then the children
and the bellowing kine had the world to themselves again. The sound of
carriage wheels came from the Cross, and of the children calling loud
for bridal bowl-money.

"What's that?" asked the Cornal, waking from his reverie; and his
brother put his head out at the window. He drew back at once with his
face exceeding crimson.

"What is't?" said the Cornal, seeing his hesitation.

"A honeymoon pair," said the brother, and fumbled noisily with the
newspaper he had in his hand.

"Poor creatures! And who is it? Though I never get over the door you'll
tell me nothing."

The Paymaster answered shortly. "It's the pair from Maam," said he, and
back to his paper again.

Up to his brow the Cornal put a trembling hand and seemed amazed and
startled. Then he recollected, and a sad smile came to his visage.
"Not a clod altogether yet!" said he, half to himself and half to his
brother. "I felt the flutter of a wing. But it's not your grief or mine
this time, Jock; it's your poor recruit's."

"He's down in Miss Mary's room, and that's the place for the like of
him."

"Is it?" said the Cornal. "Dugald understood him best of any of us; he
saw this coming, and I mind that he grieved for the fellow."

"He's grieving plenty for himself, and let him!" said the Paymaster,
setting aside his journal. "Look what he dropped from his pocket this
morning. Peggy th