love and honour the new chief of Coila, to whom, as
his proven right, he not only heartily transferred his lands and castle,
but even, as far as possible, the allegiance of his people. They must be
of good cheer, he said; he would never forget the happy time he had spent
in Coila, and if they should meet no more on this earth, there was a
Happier Land beyond death and the grave. He ended his brief oration with
that little word which means so much, "Good-bye." But scarcely would they
let him go. Old, bare-headed, white-haired men crowded round the carriage
to bless their chief and press his hand; tearful women held children up
that he might but touch their hair, while some had thrown themselves on
the heather in paroxysms of a grief which was uncontrollable. Then the
pipes played once more as the carriage drove on, while the voices of the
young men joined in chorus--

"Youth of the daring heart, bright be thy doom
As the bodings that light up thy bold spirit now.
But the fate of M'Crimman is closing in gloom,
And the breath of the grey wraith hath passed o'er his brow."

'When,' added Townley, 'a bend of the road and the drooping birch-trees
shut out the mournful sight, I am sure we all felt relieved. Your father,
smiling, extended his hand to your mother, and she fondled it and wept no
more.'

* * * * *

For a time our life, to all outward seeming, was now a very quiet one.
Although Donald and Dugald were sent to that splendid seminary which has
given so many great men and heroes to the world, the 'High School of
Edinburgh,' Townley still lived on with us as my tutor and Flora's.

What my father seemed to suffer most from was the want of something at
which to employ his time, and what Townley called his 'talent for
activity.' 'Doing nothing' was not father's form after leading so
energetic a life for so many years at Coila. Like the city of Boston in
America, Edinburgh prides itself on the selectness of its society. To
this, albeit we had come down in the world, pecuniarily speaking, our
family had free _entree_. This would have satisfied some men; it did not
satisfy father. He missed the bracing mountain air, he missed the freedom
of the hills and the glorious exercise to which he had been accustomed.

He missed it, but he mourned it not. His was the most unselfish nature one
could imagine. Whatever he may have felt in the privacy of his own
apartmen