and he turned a deaf
ear to their misery. A light was struck, and a dozen torches applied at
once. The whins crackled, the heather blazed, and the flames overtopped
the hovels which they surrounded, and which within an hour became a heap
of smouldering ashes.

Clennel and his dependants returned home, driving the cattle which had
been stolen from him before them, and rejoicing in what they had done.
On the following day, Willie Faa and a part of his tribe returned to the
place of rendezvous--their city and home in the mountains--and they
found it a heap of smoking ruins, and the old men and the old women of
the tribe--their fathers and their mothers--sitting wailing upon the
ruins, and warming over them their shivering limbs, while the children
wept around them for food.

"Whose work is this?" inquired Willie, while anxiety and anger flashed
in his eyes.

"The Laird o' Clennel!--the Laird o' Clennel!" answered every voice at
the same instant.

"By this I swear!" exclaimed the king of the Faas, drawing his dagger
from beneath his coat, "from this night henceforth he is laird nor man
nae langer." And he turned hastily from the ruins, as if to put his
threat in execution.

"Stay, ye madcap!" cried Elspeth, following him, "would ye fling away
revenge for half a minute's satisfaction?"

"No, wife," cried he, "nae mair than I would sacrifice living a free and
a fu' life for half an hour's hangin'."

"Stop, then," returned she, "and let our vengeance fa' upon him, so that
it may wring his life away, drap by drap, until his heart be dry; and
grief, shame, and sorrow burn him up, as he has here burned house and
home o' Elspeth Faa and her kindred."

"What mean ye, woman?" said Willie, hastily; "if I thought ye would come
between me and my revenge, I would drive this bit steel through you wi'
as goodwill as I shall drive it through him."

"And ye shall be welcome," said Elspeth. She drew him aside, and
whispered a few minutes in his ear. He listened attentively. At times he
seemed to start, and at length, sheathing his dagger and grasping her
hand, he exclaimed--"Excellent, Elspeth!--ye have it!--ye have it!"

At this period, the laird of Clennel was about thirty years of age, and
two years before he had been married to Eleanor de Vere, a lady alike
distinguished for her beauty and accomplishments. They had an infant
son, who was the delight of his mother, and his father's pride. Now, for
two years after the conflagr