ave.

The light, which at first had been no bigger than a rush-light, grew
rapidly larger, glowing red (as it seemed) upon the very bosom of the
lake. Cliffs began to rise above their heads, hiding the moon. And, as
the boat rapidly advanced, Edward could make out a great fire kindled on
the shore, into which dark mysterious figures were busily flinging pine
branches. The fire had been built on a narrow ledge at the opening of a
great black cavern, into which an inlet of the loch seemed to advance.
The men rowed straight for this black entrance. Then, letting the boat
run on with shipped oars, the fire was soon passed and left behind, and
the cavern entered through a great rocky arch. At the foot of some
natural steps the boat stopped. The beacon brands which had served to
guide them were thrown hissing into the water, and Edward found himself
lifted out of the boat by brawny arms and carried almost bodily into the
depths of the cavern. Presently, however, he was allowed to walk, though
still guided on either side, when suddenly at a turn of the rock
passage, the cave opened out, and Edward found the famous Cateran,
Donald Bean Lean, and his whole establishment plain before his eyes.

The cavern was lit with pine torches, and about a charcoal fire five or
six Highlanders were seated, while in the dusk behind several others
slumbered, wrapped in their plaids. In a large recess to one side were
seen the carcasses of both sheep and cattle, hung by the heels as in a
butcher's shop, some of them all too evidently the spoils of the Baron
of Bradwardine's flocks and herds.

The master of this strange dwelling came forward to welcome Edward,
while Evan Dhu stood by his side to make the necessary introductions.
Edward had expected to meet with a huge savage warrior in the captain of
such banditti, but to his surprise he found Donald Bean Lean to be a
little man, pale and insignificant in appearance, and not even Highland
in dress. For at one time Donald had served in the French army. So now,
instead of receiving Edward in his national costume, he had put on an
old blue-and-red foreign uniform, in which he made so strange a figure
that, though it was donned in his honour, his visitor had hard work to
keep from laughing. Nor was the freebooter's conversation more in accord
with his surroundings. He talked much of Edward's family and
connections, and especially of his uncle's Jacobite politics--on which
last account, he seemed in