recognise as the boats of
fishermen; but beyond them no ship or sign of man was visible on the
great lone sea, over, and reflected in which, hung a few soft and
towering masses of cloudland.

"If thus thy meaner works are fair,
And beautiful beyond compare;
How glorious must the mansions be
Where Thy redeemed shall dwell with Thee!"

Jackman murmured rather than spoke the words, for no human ear was there
to hear. Nevertheless there were human ears and tongues also, not far
distant, engaged in earnest debate. It was on one of the ledges of the
Eagle Cliff that our hunter stood. At another part of the same cliff,
close to the pass where Milly Moss met with her accident, Allan Gordon
stood with nearly all his visitors and several of his retainers around
him.

"Higher up the pass you'll have a much better chance, Mr Barret. Is it
not so, Ivor?"

The keeper, who, in kilt, hose, and bonnet, was as fine a specimen of a
tall athletic Highlander as one could wish to see, replied that that was
true.

"Nae doot," he said, "I hev put Mr Jackman in the best place of all,
for, whativer way the deer come, they'll hev to pass close, either above
or below him--an' that's maybe as weel for him wi' his queer
new-fashioned rifle; but at the heed o' the pass is the next best place.
The only thing is that ye'll hev to tak' sure aim, for there's more
room for them to stray, an' ye may chance to git only a lang shot."

"Well, then, it is not the place for me, for I am a poor shot," said
Barret; "besides, I have a fancy to stay here, where I am. You say it
is a very good spot, Ivor, I understand?"

"Weel, it's no' that bad as a spote," answered the keeper, with a grim
smile, for he had not much opinion of Barret's spirit as a sportsman;
"but it's ackward as the lawnd lies."

"Never mind. I'll stay here, and you know, laird, that I have some
pleasant associations with it in connection with your niece."

"That is more than Milly has," returned the old gentleman, laughing.
"However, have your way. Now, gentlemen, we must place ourselves
quickly, for the beaters will soon be entering the wood. I will take
you, Mr Mabberly, to a spot beyond the pass where you will be pretty
sure of a shot. And MacRummle--where shall we place him?"

"He can do nothing wi' the gun at a', sir," muttered the keeper, in a
low voice, so that he might not be overheard. "I wad putt him doon at
the white rock. He'll git a lang shot at them t