"Indeed I will."

"Then help me now, Ken, as a brother should, to make a great
restoration, and me a happier man."

"I--I don't understand," cried Kenneth wonderingly. "What do you mean?"

"Your father's while he lives, Ken; yours after as his heir."

"Are you mad, Max?"

"Yes, with delight, old fellow!" he cried, as he forced the folio and
its contents into his old friend's hands.

"But--"

"Not another word. My father left me very rich, and in a codicil to his
will he said he hoped I should make good use of the wealth he left me,
and that it might prove a greater source of happiness to me than it had
been to him."

"But, Max--"

"I think he would approve of what I am doing now; and if you do not ask
me down for a month or two every year, I'll say you are not the Ken
Mackhai I used to know."

The objections to and protestations against Max Blande's munificent gift
were long and continued. The Mackhai was summoned over from Baden, and
he declared it to be impossible.

But all was arranged at last, and Max's fortune suffered very little by
his generosity.

The Mackhais took possession of the old home once again, and Max Blande
was present at the rejoicings; when fires were lit on each of the four
old towers, when there was a feast for all comers, and Tavish went
through the evolutions of the sword-dance, while torches were held
around, and old Donald, who had to sit to play, poured feebly forth some
of his favourite airs.

Max even felt that the pipes were bearable that night, as he poured out
some whisky for the ancient piper, and received his blessings now
instead of a furious curse.

And somehow, Max used to declare to Ken, he found ten times more
enjoyment in the place now than if it had been his own.

And time went on once more.

"Remember?" said a bronzed cavalry officer to a tall, sedate-looking
young country gentleman, as they sat together on the deck of The
Mackhai's yacht, gliding slowly up the great sea loch.

"Do I remember what?"

"Where I picked you up from the steamer when you first came down?"

"To be sure I do, Ken, old fellow! Why, it must have been just here.
Why, Ken, that's fifteen years ago!"

"Exactly, almost to a month. And I've been all around the world since
then. How does it make you feel?"

"How?" cried Max, laying his hand upon the other's shoulder; "as if we
were boys again. And you?"

"As if the memories of boyhood can never die."

THE END.