e which fixed him to his chair. For if he dared to rise he
felt that he would be offering a deadly affront to the old minstrel, one
which, hot-blooded Highlander as he was, he might resent with his dirk,
or perhaps do him a mischief in a more simple manner, by spurning him
with his foot as he retreated--in other words, kick him down-stairs.

And those were such stairs!

Northern people praise the bagpipes, and your genuine Highlander would
sooner die than own it was not the "pravest" music ever made. He will
tell you that to hear it to perfection you must have it on the mountain
side, or away upon some glorious Scottish loch. This is the truth, for
undoubtedly the bagpipes are then at their best, and the farther off
upon the mountain, or the wider the loch, the better.

But Max was hearing the music in a bare-walled, echoing chamber, and,
but for the fact that there was hardly any roof, there is no saying what
might have been the consequences. For Donald blew till his cheeks were
as tightly distended as the bag, while chanter and drone burred and
buzzed, and screamed and wailed, as if twin pigs were being ornamented
with nose-rings, and their affectionate mamma was all the time bemoaning
the sufferings of her offspring, "Macrimmon's Lament" might have been
the old piper's lamentation given forth in sorrow because obliged to
make so terribly ear-shrilling a noise.

But, like most things, it came to an end, and with a sigh of relief Max
sprang up to exclaim, as if he had been in a London drawing-room, and
some one had just obliged,--

"Oh, thank you!"

"She's a gran' chune," said Donald, pressing forward, and as it were
backing poor Max into the seat from which he had sprung. "Noo she'll
gie ye `Ta Mairch o' ta Mackhais.'"

Max suppressed a groan, as the old man drew himself up and produced half
a dozen sonorous burring groans from the drone.

Then there was a pause, and Donald dropped the mouthpiece from his lips.

"She forgot to say tat she composed ta mairch in honour of the Chief
hersel'."

Then he blew up the bag again, and there came forth a tremendous wail,
wild and piercing, and making a curious shudder run up and down Max's
backbone, while directly after, as he was debating within himself
whether he might not make some excuse about Kenneth waiting, so as to
get away, the old man marched up and down, playing as proudly as if he
were at the head of a clan of fighting men.

All at once, sounding li