ecalled the heather, haggis, and the Lothians, and the mountain dew, ye
ken, and all those sorts of things.

One morning at breakfast in the Cafe Greco he discoursed at length about
the pleasure the pifferari gave him; while Caper, taking an opposite
view, said they had, during the last few days, driven him nearly crazy,
and he wished the squealing hog-skins well out of town.

MacGuilp told him he had a poor ear for music: that there was a charm
about the bagpipes unequalled even by the unique voices of the Sistine
Chapel; and there was nothing he would like better than to have all the
pipers of Rome under his windows.

Caper remembered this last rash speech of Master MacGuilp, and
determined at an early hour to test its truth. It happened, the very
next morning at breakfast, that MacGuilp, in a triumphant manner, told
him that he had received a promise of a visit from the Duchess of ----,
with several other titled English; and said he had not a doubt of
selling several paintings to them. MacGuilp's style was of the
blood-and-thunder school: red dawns, murdered kings, blood-stained
heather, and Scotch plaids, the very kind that should be shown to the
sweet strainings of hog-skin bagpipes.

In conversation Caper found out the hour at which the duchess intended
to make her visit. He made his preparations accordingly. Accompanied by
Rocjean, he visited Gigi, who kept a costume and life school of models,
found out where the pipers drank most wine, and going there and up the
Via Fratina and down the Spanish Steps, managed to find them, and
arranged it so that at the time the duchess was viewing MacGuilp's
paintings, he should have the full benefit of a serenade from all the
pifferari in Rome.

The next morning Caper, pipe in mouth, at his window, saw the carriage
of the duchess drive up, and from it the noble English dismount and
ascend to the artist's studio. The carriage had hardly driven away when
up came two of the pipers, and happening to cast their eyes up they saw
Caper, who hailed them and told them not to begin playing until the
others arrived. In a few moments six of the hog-skin squeezers stood
ready to begin their infernal squawking.

'Go ahead!' shouted Caper, throwing a handful of _baiocchi_ among them;
and as soon as these were gathered up, the pipers gave one awful,
heart-chilling blast, and the concert was fairly commenced. Squealing,
shrieking, grunting, yelling, and humming, the sounds rose higher an