father, the terrible brand of the criminal. It was this
grim fact that stained black the whole landscape of his consciousness,
and that hung like a pall of death over every living and delightsome
thing in the garden of his soul. While none could, without challenge,
condemn him, yet his own tongue refused to proclaim his innocence.
Every face he loved drove deeper into his heart his pain. The deathless
loyalty and unbounded pride of the Glen folk rebuked him, without their
knowing, for the dishonour he had done them. The Glen itself, the hills,
the purpling heather, the gleaming loch, how dear to him he had never
known till now, threw in his face a sad and silent reproach. Small
wonder that the Glen, that Scotland had become intolerable to him. With
this bitter burden on his heart it was that young Mr. Allan went his way
through the Glen making his farewells, not daring to indulge the luxury
of his grief, and with never a word of return.

His sister, who knew all, and who would have carried--oh! how
gladly!--on her own heart, and for all her life long, that bitter
burden, pleaded to be allowed to go with him on what she knew full well
was a journey of sorrow and sore pain, but this he would not permit.
This sorrow and pain which were his own, he would share with no one,
and least of all with her upon whose life he had already cast so dark
a shadow. Hence she was at the house alone, her father not having yet
returned from an important meeting at a neighbouring village, when a
young man came to the door asking for young Mr. Cameron.

"Who is it, Kirsty?" she inquired anxiously, a new fear at her heart for
her brother.

"I know not, but he has neffer been in this Glen before whateffer,"
replied Kirsty, with an ominous shake of the head, her primitive
instincts leading her to view the stranger with suspicion. "But!" she
added, with a glance at her young mistress' face, "he iss no man to be
afraid of, at any rate. He is just a laddie."

"Oh, he is a YOUNG man, Kirsty?" replied her mistress, glancing at her
blue serge gown, her second best, and with her hands striving to tuck in
some of her wayward curls.

"Och, yess, and not much at that!" replied Kirsty, with the idea of
relieving her young mistress of unnecessary fears.

Then Moira, putting on her grand air, stepped into the parlour, and saw
standing there and awaiting her, a young man with a thin and somewhat
hard face, a firm mouth, and extraordinarily keen, grey e