crown, nay, more, if ever you would see another St. Valentine's Day,

you must

What is it that I must do, Ramorny?' said the Prince, with an air of dignity; 'nothing unworthy of myself, I hope?'

'Nothing, certainly, unworthy or misbecoming a Prince of Scotland, if the blood-stained annals of our country tell the tale truly; but that which may well shock the nerves of a prince of mimes and merrymakers.' pp. 252-256.

999

The cruel levity, and even mockery, with which Rothsay treats the mutilation of Ramorny, and the disgust which he expresses at his dark proposal, completely alienate the mind of that revengeful man, and when upon his trial for the murder of Proudfute, the Prince refuses to exculpate him by a falsehood, he throws himself into the arms of Albany, and becomes, with Henbane Dwining, the contriver and perpetrator of the tragic catastrophe at Falkland Castle.

age

We have been unconsciously betrayed into greater prolixity than we purposed, and must bring our remarks to as speedy a termination as possible. Passing over, therefore, the sensation which was excited by the spectacle of the bonnet-maker's gory corpse, which was mistaken at first, for that of the Smith-the agitation and alarm of Catharine, who fearing that the supposed atrocity had been perpetrated by Conachar and his highlanders, and regarding herself as in some sort accessory to the murder of her lover, rushed madly forth to the house of the Gow, and sunk, overwhelmed with her feelings, into Henry's arms-the deliberations in the council-room of Perth, touching the offence, and its probable authors, &c. we proceed to the trial of the offenders, which, by the advice of Dom Louis Lundin, the townclerk, was the proof by bier-right. The superstition of the had introduced this among other extravagances of a similar kind, to which, however, the same superstition did not fail to give a certain degree of efficacy. The body of Proudfute is exposed in the High Church of St. Johns', where a solemn scene is exhibited-the monarch and his court are there the family of Ramorny, suspected of the murder, are summoned before it and as they successively approached to purge themselves of the crime by a solemn appeal to Heaven, it was every moment expected, that the shroud of the dead man would be dyed with blood gushing from his wounds, to bear witness against him who had inflicted them. However, one after another takes the oath without a sign, until it was, at last, Bonthron's turn. The wretch, by a previous concert with his master, refuses the proof by the bier-right, and calls for the combat with Henry Smith, the champion of the widow and orphans of the deceased. He

is vanquished, as might have been expected by the doughty armourer, and being compelled to confess, accuses the Prince as the instigator of the deed. He is then immediately ordered to be hanged by Albany, under pretence of complying with custom, but really to prevent a recantation of the falsehood against Rothsay. His hanging is so contrived between Ramorny, the Pottingar and the executioner, as to be a mere show. At the dead of night, he is taken down, and transported to the opposite shore of Fife, and we see no more of him, until he appears at Falkland Castle, to consummate the plot of Albany and Ramorny against the heedless and unsuspecting Duke of Rothsay. We will not be responsible for the infallibility of Mr. Stephen Snotherwell's remedy against death by hanging, and are quite as little disposed to say any thing about the verisimilitude of this accident.

The cold reception which Catharine gave the Smith, after so great an achievement on so sacred an occasion, and after the interest she had affected to take in his fate upon the report of his death, incensed Simon Glover so much, that she found it necessary to come out with a full explanation of the causes of her reserve. The amount of it is, that she, together with her father and some of his friends have been accused of heresy, and set down upon the black list, under the late commission, to extirpate it-and, that as the only means left to save them all, she had agreed with her treacherous confessor, father Francis the Dominican, to take the veil in Elcho nunnery, of which the abbess was her mother's kinswoman. She informs him, at the same time, of the flight of Father Clement, who had been removed to the Highlands by Conachar, at her instance. The Glover, at once excessively alarmed, and touched by the disclosure, determines to save his child by flight, but while they are making the necessary preparation, a horse's tramp is heard in the narrow-street, and the rider, wrapped in a cloak with the cape drawn up, while his bonnet was pulled down so as to conceal his face alights, and Sir Patrick Charteris, is, in a few moments upstairs in Simon's chamber. The object of this hasty and unex-. pected visit is, to inform the Glover that the warrant for the apprehension of himself and his daughter is about to go forth, and that he has not a moment to lose. It is determined, after some deliberation, that Simon shall take refuge with Conachar in the Highlands, and that Catharine shall put herself under the protection of the Lady Marjory, Dutchess of Rothsay, who had been for some time living in retirement at Falkland Castle. The account which Simon gives of the origin of his friendly intercourse with the Chiefs of the Clan Quhele, is as follows :-

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"However, be that as it may, it chanced me to serve Gilchrist MacIan in a high matter. It is now about eighteen years since, that it ehanced, the Clan Quhele and Clan Chattan being at feud, as indeed they are seldom at peace, the former sustained such a defeat, as wellnigh extirpated the family of their chief, MacIan. Seven of his sons were slain in battle, and after it, himself put to flight, and his castle taken and given to the flames. His wife, then near the time of giving birth to an infant, fled into the forest, attended by one faithful servant and his daughter. Here, in sorrow and care enough, she gave birth to a boy; and as the misery of the mother's condition rendered her little able to suckle the infant, he was nursed with the milk of a doe, which the forester who attended her contrived to take alive in a snare. It was not many months afterwards, that, in a second encounter of these fierce clans, MacIan defeated his enemies in his turn, and regained possession of the district which he had lost. It was with unexpected rapture, that he found his wife and child were in existence, having never expected to see more of them than the bleached bones, from which the wolves and wild cats had eaten the flesh.

'But a strong and prevailing prejudice, such as is often entertained by these wild people, prevented their Chief from enjoying the full happiness arising from having thus regained his only son in safety. An ancient prophecy was current among them, that the power of the tribe should fall by means of a boy born under a bush of holly, and suckled by a white doe. The circumstance, unfortunately for the Chief, tallied exactly with the birth of the only child which remained to him, and it was demanded of him by the elders of the clan, that the boy should be either put to death, or at least removed from the dominions of the tribe, and brought up in obscurity. Gilchrist MacIan was obliged to consent; and having made choice of the latter proposal, the child, under the name of Conachar, was brought up in my family, with the purpose, as was at first intended, of concealing from him all knowledge who or what he was, or of his pretentions to authority over a numerous and warlike people. But as years rolled on, the elders of the tribe, who had exerted so much authority, were removed by death, or rendered incapable of interfering in the public affairs by age; while, on the other hand, the influence of Gilchrist Maclan was increased by his successful struggles against the Clan Chattan, in which he restored the equality betwixt the two contending confederacies, which had existed before the calamitous defeat of which I told your honour. Feeling himself thus firmly seated, he naturally became desirous to bring home his only son to his bosom and family; and for that purpose, caused me to send the young Cona char, as he was called, more than once to the Highlands. He was a youth expressly made, by his form and gallantry of bearing, to gain a father's heart. At length, I suppose the lad either guessed the secret of his birth, or something of it was communicated to him; and the disgust which the haughty Hieland varlet had always shown for my honest trade, became more manifest; so that I dared not so much as lay my staff over his costard, for fear of receiving a stab with a dirk, as an answer in Gaelic to a Saxon remark. It was then I wished to be well rid of him, the rather that he showed so much devotion to Catherine, who,

forsooth, set herself up to wash the Ethiopian, and teach a wild Hielandman mercy and morals. She knows herself how it ended.'

*

'With his return thither,' said the Glover. There was, for some two or three years, a fellow about Perth, a sort of messenger, who came and went under divers pretences, but was, in fact, the means of communication between Gilchrist MacIan and his son, young Conachar, or, as he is now called, Hector. From this gillie, I learned, in general, that the banishment of the Dault an Neigh Dheil, or foster child of the White Doe, was again brought under consideration of the tribe. His foster father, Torquil of the Oak, the old forester, appeared with eight sons, the finest men of the clan, and demanded that the doom of banishment should be revoked. He spoke with the greater authority, as he was himself Taishatar, or a Seer, and supposed to have communication with the invissible world. He affirmed that he had performed a magical ceremony, termed Tin-Egan, by which he evoked a fiend, from whom he extorted a confession that Conachar, now called Eachin, or Hector MacIan, was the only man in the approaching combat between the two hostile clans, who should come off without blood or blemish. Hence, Torquil of the Oak argued that the presence of the fated person was necessary to ensure the victory. 'So much I am possessed of this,' said the forester, 'that unless Eachin fight in his place in the ranks of the Clan Quhele, neither I, his foster-father, nor any of my eight sons, will lift a weapon in the quarrel.'

This speech was received with much alarm; for the defection of nine men, the stoutest of their tribe, would be a serious blow, more especially if the combat, as begins to be rumoured, should be decided by a small number from each side. The ancient superstition concerning the foster son of the White Doe was counterbalanced by a new and later prejudice, and the father took the opportunity of presenting to the elan his long-hidden son, whose youthful, but handsome and animated countenance, haughty carriage, and active limbs, excited the admiration of the clansmen, who joyfully received him as the heir and descendant of their Chief, notwithstanding the ominous presage attending his birth and nurture."" Vol. ii. pp. 113-116.

After travelling for some time through the dreary loneliness of those wilds, whose natural desolation at that season of the year, had been increased by the ravages of an unsparing feud, Simon arrives at the cottage of Niel Booshallock, in a sequestered nook of land near the junction of the river Tay with the Loch of the same name. He is received with the hospitality characteristic of those mountain tribes, and asks him if there were any news in the country.

"Bad news as ever were told,' said the herdsman; our father is no

more.

'How?' said Simon, greatly alarmed, 'is the Captain of the Clan Quhele dead?'

"The Captain of the Clan Quhele never dies,' answered the Booshalloch; 'but Gilchrist MacIan died twenty hours since, and his son, Eachin MacIan, is now Captain.'

"What, Eachin-that is Conachar-my apprentice?'

'As little of that subject as you list, brother Simon,' said the herdsman. 'It is to be remembered, friend, that your craft, which doth very well for a living in the douce city of Perth, is something too mechanical to be much esteemed at the foot of Ben Lawers, and on the banks of Loch Tay. We have not a Gaelic word by which we can even name a maker of gloves.'

'It would be strange if you had, friend Niel;' said Simon, drily, 'having so few gloves to wear. I think there be none in the whole Clan Quhele, save those which I myself gave to Gilchrist MacIan, whom God assoilzie, who esteemed them a choice propine. Most deeply do I regret his death, for I was coming to him on express busi

ness.

You had better turn the nag's head southward with morning light,' said the herdsman. The funeral is instantly to take place, and it must be with short ceremony; for there is a battle to be fought by the Clan Quhele and the Clan Chattan, thirty champions on a side, as soon as Palm Sunday next, and we have brief time either to lament the dead, or honour the living.'

Yet are my affairs so pressing, that I must needs see the young Chief, were it but for a quarter of an hour,' said the Glover.

'Hark thee, friend,' replied his host, I think thy business must be either to gather money or to make traffic. Now, if the Chief owe thee any thing for upbringing or otherwise, ask him not to pay it when all the treasures of the tribe are called in for making gallant preparation of arms and equipment for their combatants, that we may meet these proud hill-cats in a fashion to show ourselves their superiors. But, if thou comest to practice commerce with us, thy time is still worse chosen. Thou knowest that thou art already envied of many of our tribe, for having had the fosterage of the young Chief, which is a thing usually given to the best of the clan.'

6

But, St. Mary, man!' exclaimed the Glover, men should remember the office was not conferred on me as a favour which I courted, but that it was accepted by me on importunity and entreaty, to my no small prejudice. This Conachar, or Hector of yours, or whatever you call him, has destroyed me doe-skins to the amount of many pounds Scots.'

'There again, now,' said the Booshalloch, you have spoken a word to cost your life;-any allusion to skins or hides, or especially to deer and does, may incur no less a forfeit. The Chief is young and jealous of his rank-none knows the reason better than thou, friend Glover.He will naturally wish that every thing concerning the opposition to his succession, and having reference to his exile, should be totally forgotten; and he will not hold him in affection who shall recall the recollection of his people, or force back his own, upon what they must both remember with pain. Think how, at such a moment, they will look on the old Glover of Perth, to whom the Chief was so long apprentice!— VOL. II.-No. 3.

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