ce from which he boasted his descent
had found a refuge beyond the Atlantic. One southland farmer, three
grey-plaided shepherds, and six dogs, now tenanted the whole glen, which
in his youth had maintained, in content, if not in competence, upwards
of two hundred inhabitants.

In the house of the new tenant, Sergeant M'Alpin found, however, an
unexpected source of pleasure, and a means of employing his social
affections. His sister Janet had fortunately entertained so strong a
persuasion that her brother would one day return, that she had refused
to accompany her kinsfolk upon their emigration. Nay, she had consented,
though not without a feeling of degradation, to take service with the
intruding Lowlander, who, though a Saxon, she said, had proved a kind
man to her. This unexpected meeting with his sister seemed a cure
for all the disappointments which it had been Sergeant More's lot to
encounter, although it was not without a reluctant tear that he
heard told, as a Highland woman alone could ten it, the story of the
expatriation of his kinsmen.

She narrated at great length the vain offers they had made of advanced
rent, the payment of which must have reduced them to the extremity of
poverty, which they were yet contented to face, for permission to live
and die on their native soil. Nor did Janet forget the portents which
had announced the departure of the Celtic race, and the arrival of the
strangers. For two years previous to the emigration, when the night wind
howled dawn the pass of Balachra, its notes were distinctly modelled
to the tune of "HA TIL MI TULIDH" (we return no more), with which the
emigrants usually bid farewell to their native shores. The uncouth cries
of the Southland shepherds, and the barking of their dogs, were often
heard in the midst of the hills long before their actual arrival.
A bard, the last of his race, had commemorated the expulsion of the
natives of the glen in a tune, which brought tears into the aged eyes of
the veteran, and of which the first stanza may be thus rendered:--

Woe, woe, son of the Lowlander,
Why wilt thou leave thine own bonny Border?
Why comes thou hither, disturbing the Highlander,
Wasting the glen that was once in fair order?

What added to Sergeant More M'Alpin's distress upon the occasion was,
that the chief by whom this change had been effected, was, by tradition
and common opinion, held to represent the ancient leaders and fathers of
the