ng ear, and drew forward reluctant steps. The links of old
association, are, however, the strongest of chains, and no charm is so
magical as that of religious emotion. Lady Carse was drawn nearer and
nearer, in hope of hearing ano, her psalm, till the solemn tones of
prayer reached her, and presently she was crouching under the wall
outside, weeping like a sinner who dares not knock at the gate of
heaven.

Before the service was quite finished, angry voices were heard from
without, almost overpowering that of the pastor as he gave the blessing.
One of Macdonald's people, who had stepped out to collect the ponies
for some of the women and children, had seen the lady, and, after one
start back as from the ghost of a drowned woman, had laid hold of her
gown, and said she must stay where she could be spoken with by Macdonald
on his return from Skye. She struggled to escape, and did break away--
not down the hill, but into the chapel.

The consternation was inexpressible. The people, supposing her drowned,
took her for a ghost, though there was no ghostly calm about her; but
her eyes were swollen, her hair disordered, her lips quivering with
violent emotion. There was a solemnity about her, too; for extreme
anguish is always solemn, in proportion as it approaches to despair.
She rushed to the front of the pulpit, and held out her hands,
exclaiming aloud to Mr Ruthven that she was the most persecuted and
tormented of human beings; that she appealed to him against her
persecutors; and if he did not see her righted, she warned him that he
would be damned deeper than hell. Mrs Ruthven shuddered, and left her
seat to place herself by her husband. And now she encountered the poor
lady's gaze, and, moreover, had her own grasped as it had never been
before.

"Are these children yours?" she was asked.

"Yes," faltered Mrs Ruthven.

"Then you must help me to recover mine. Had you ever,"--and here she
turned to the pastor--"had you ever an enemy?" Her voice turned hoarse
as she uttered the word.

"No--yes--Oh, yes!" said he. "I have had enemies, as every man has."

"Then, as you wish them abased and tormented, you must help me to abase
and torment mine--my husband, and Lord Lovat--"

"Lord Lovat!" repeated many wondering voices.

"And Sir Alexander Macdonald; and his tenant of this place; and--"

As Mr Ruthven looked round him, perplexed and amazed, one of
Macdonald's people went up to him, and whispered into his