l the Glen--for the Hays had little in Drumtochty in those
days--fastened on the site of the Lodge and planted three miles of
wood, birch and oak, and beech and ash, with the rowan tree, along the
river that goes out and in seven times in that distance, so that his
descendants might have a fastness for their habitation and their
children might grow up in kindly woods on which the south sun beats
from early spring till late autumn, and within the sight and sound of
clean, running water. No wonder they loved their lonely home with
tenacious hearts, and left it only because it was in their blood to be
fighting. They had been out at Langside and Philiphaugh, in the '15
and the '45, and always on the losing side. The Lodge had never been
long without a young widow and a fatherless lad, but family history had
no warning for him--in fact, seemed rather to be an inspiration in the
old way--for no sooner had the young laird loved and married than he
would hear of another rebellion, and ride off some morning to fight for
that ill-fated dynasty whose love was ever another name for death.
There was always a Carnegie ready as soon as the white cockade appeared
anywhere in Scotland, and each of the house fought like the men before
him, save that he brought fewer at his back and had less in his pocket.
Little was left to the General and our Kate, and then came the great
catastrophe that lost them the Lodge, and so the race has now neither
name nor house in Scotland, save in the vault in Drumtochty Kirk. It
is a question whether one is wise to revisit any place where he has
often been in happier times and see it desolate. For me, at least, it
was a mistake, and the melancholy is still upon me. The deserted house
falling at last to pieces, the over-grown garden, the crumbling paths,
the gaping bridges over the little burns, and the loneliness, chilled
one's soul. There was no money to spare in the General's time, but it
is wonderful what one gardener, who has no hours, and works for love's
sake, can do, even in a place that needed half a dozen. Then he was
assisted unofficially by Donald, who declared that working in the woods
was "fery healthy and good for one or two small cuts I happened to get
in India," and Kate gave herself to the garden. The path by the river
was kept in repair, and one never knew when Kate might appear round the
corner. Once I had come down from the cottage on a fine February day
to see the snowdrops in t