om and the house.

Not even to Shargar did he communicate his adventure. And he went no
more to the deserted factory to play there. Fate had again interposed
between him and his bonny leddy.

When he reached Bodyfauld he fancied his grandmother's eyes more
watchful of him than usual, and he strove the more to resist the
weariness, and even faintness, that urged him to go to bed. Whether he
was able to hide as well a certain trouble that clouded his spirit I
doubt. His wound he did manage to keep a secret, thanks to the care of
Miss St. John, who had dressed it with court-plaster.

When he woke the next morning, it was with the consciousness of having
seen something strange the night before, and only when he found that he
was not in his own room at his grandmother's, was he convinced that it
must have been a dream and no vision. For in the night, he had awaked
there as he thought, and the moon was shining with such clearness, that
although it did not shine into his room, he could see the face of the
clock, and that the hands were both together at the top. Close by the
clock stood the bureau, with its end against the partition forming the
head of his grannie's bed.

All at once he saw a tall man, in a blue coat and bright buttons, about
to open the lid of the bureau. The same moment he saw a little elderly
man in a brown coat and a brown wig, by his side, who sought to remove
his hand from the lock. Next appeared a huge stalwart figure, in shabby
old tartans, and laid his hand on the head of each. But the wonder
widened and grew; for now came a stately Highlander with his broadsword
by his side, and an eagle's feather in his bonnet, who laid his hand on
the other Highlander's arm.

When Robert looked in the direction whence this last had appeared, the
head of his grannie's bed had vanished, and a wild hill-side, covered
with stones and heather, sloped away into the distance. Over it passed
man after man, each with an ancestral air, while on the gray sea to the
left, galleys covered with Norsemen tore up the white foam, and dashed
one after the other up to the strand. How long he gazed, he did not
know, but when he withdrew his eyes from the extended scene, there stood
the figure of his father, still trying to open the lid of the bureau,
his grandfather resisting him, the blind piper with his hand on the head
of both, and the stately chief with his hand on the piper's arm. Then a
mist of forgetfulness gathered over th