and immoderate affection
subjected her, when early one morning the appearance of a traveller on
the lonely mountain-road, revived hopes which had begun to sink into
listless despair. There was no sign of Saxon subjugation about the
stranger. At a distance she could see the flutter of the belted-plaid
that drooped in graceful folds behind him, and the plume that, placed
in the bonnet, showed rank and gentle birth. He carried a gun over
his shoulder, the claymore was swinging by his side with its usual
appendages, the dirk, the pistol, and the SPORRAN MOLLACH. [The
goat-skin pouch, worn by the Highlanders round their waist.] Ere yet her
eye had scanned all these particulars, the light step of the traveller
was hastened, his arm was waved in token of recognition--a moment more,
and Elspat held in her arms her darling son, dressed in the garb of
his ancestors, and looking, in her maternal eyes, the fairest among ten
thousand!

The first outpouring of affection it would be impossible to describe.
Blessings mingled with the most endearing epithets which her energetic
language affords in striving to express the wild rapture of Elspat's
joy. Her board was heaped hastily with all she had to offer, and the
mother watched the young soldier, as he partook of the refreshment, with
feelings how similar to, yet how different from, those with which she
had seen him draw his first sustenance from her bosom!

When the tumult of joy was appeased, Elspat became anxious to know her
son's adventures since they parted, and could not help greatly censuring
his rashness for traversing the hills in the Highland dress in the broad
sunshine, when the penalty was so heavy, and so many red soldiers were
abroad in the country.

"Fear not for me, mother," said Hamish, in a tone designed to relieve
her anxiety, and yet somewhat embarrassed; "I may wear the BREACAN [That
which is variegated--that is, the tartan.] at the gate of Fort-Augustus,
if I like it."

"Oh, be not too daring, my beloved Hamish, though it be the fault which
best becomes thy father's son--yet be not too daring! Alas! they fight
not now as in former days, with fair weapons and on equal terms, but
take odds of numbers and of arms, so that the feeble and the strong are
alike levelled by the shot of a boy. And do not think me unworthy to be
called your father's widow and your mother because I speak thus; for
God knoweth, that, man to man, I would peril thee against the best in
Bre