nging along, laughing and light-hearted. And he had fled home, in
terror lest some one accost him and ask him to join them. The lilting
lines had set themselves to the jingle of his bells as he drove
homeward, and mile by mile he could hear nothing but

"Trumpets are sounding, war steeds are bounding,
Stand to your arms and march in good order.
Germans shall many a day tell of the bloody fray
When all the Blue Bonnets came over the Border!"
"March! March!"...

He was very silent at supper that evening. He made an effort to be
especially kind and attentive, but he could not be merry. He could not
chat about his visit to town and the doings there which the Aunties
were all eager to hear. For he had seen nothing but boys in kilts,
swinging laughingly down the street, had heard nothing but the pipes
and drums lilting "All the Blue Bonnets are over the Border!"

And all the while Auntie Elspie watched him closely, her heart sinking.

When supper was over and they sat around the sitting room stove, Auntie
Flora seated herself at the organ, thinking to cheer him.

"Come away, Gavie dear," she cried. "It's a long time since we had
some music and I'm afraid you'll be forgettin' the fiddle altogether.
Come away and we'll have a good old sing."

He could not refuse, but said he would play if she would sing, and then
he passed over all the old war-like favourites, "A Warrior Bold" and
"Scots Wha Hae," and asked instead for songs of peace, "Caller
Herrin'," "Ye Banks and Braes," "Silver Threads Among the Gold."

"Sing 'A Warrior Bold' Gavie," cried Auntie Janet, looking up from the
sock she was knitting for Burke Wright, "Ye've no sung it for such a
long, long time."

He made an excuse about not being able to sing it; it was too high for
him.

"Ye haven't got a cold, have you, hinny?" she asked anxiously, and he
answered no, that he was quite well.

Then Auntie Flora, all unconscious, opened all the stops of the little
organ and burst into Bruce's deathless "Battle Hymn," the welcome to
all gallant souls to a gory bed or to victory.

"Play it and sing it both, Gavie!" cried Auntie Janet joining her voice
in, "Now's the day, and now's the hour!" But Gavin made a hurried
excuse about seeing to the cattle, and hastily putting down his violin
went out quickly. Auntie Elspie saw his face as he passed and all her
doubts and with them her hopes vanished. She had suspected before; now
she knew!

"I