once the
residence of a Highland chieftain of the name of M'Morrough--a man of
fierce nature and desperate courage, but not without some traits of a
generous disposition. When about middle age, M'Morrough married the
daughter of a neighbouring chief--a lady of much sweetness of manner and
gentleness of nature. On the part of the former, however, this connection
was one in which love had little share: its chief purpose would have been
attained by the birth of a male heir to the name and property of the feudal
chieftain; and this was an event to which he looked anxiously forward.

When the accouchement of his lady arrived, M'Morrough retired to an upper
apartment of the castle to await the result--having desired a trusty
domestic to bring him instant intelligence when the child was born, whether
it was a male or a female. The interval he employed in walking up and down
the chamber in a fever of impatience. At length the door of the apartment
opened, and Innes M'Phail entered. The chieftain turned quickly and
fiercely round, glanced at the countenance of his messenger, and there read
the disappointment of his hopes without a word being uttered.

"It is even so, then," roared out the infuriated chieftain. "It is a girl,
Innes; a girl. My curses on her!"

"Say _girls_, M'Morrough," said Innes, despondingly. "There are twins."

"And both girls--both!" exclaimed the former, stamping the floor in the
violence of his passion. "To the battlements with them, Innes!--to the
battlements with them instantly, and toss them over into the deep sea! Let
the waves of Loch Sonoran rock them to sleep, and the winds that rush
against Inch Caillach sing their lullaby. Let it be done--done instantly,
Innes, as you value your own life; and I will witness the fidelity with
which you serve me from this window. I will, with my own eyes, see the deed
done. Go--go--quick--quick!"

Innes, who had been previously aware that such would be the fate of a
female child, if such should unfortunately be born to his ruthless chief,
and who had promised to be the instrument of that fate, now left the
apartment to execute the atrocious deed. In less than ten minutes after,
Innes M'Phail appeared on the battlements, carrying a large wicker basket.
From this depository he took out a child, swaddled in its first apparel,
and raising it aloft, tossed it over to perish in the raging sea below. The
little arms of the infant extended as it fell; but the sight was m