ar with becoming
fortitude the affliction with which it had pleased Him to visit him; and
the distressed man derived comfort from the appeal.

"My brave, my beautiful boys!" he said, "you are now with your God, and
have entered, I trust, on a life of everlasting happiness." Saying this,
he rode slowly from the fatal spot from which he had witnessed the death
of his children. It was at this moment, and while musing on the
misfortune that had befallen him, that the strange occurrence of the
preceding night recurred, for the first time, to M'Pherson's mind. It
was obtruded on his recollection by the force of association.

"Can it be possible," he inquired of himself, "that the appearances of
last night can have any connection with the dreadful events of to-day?
It must be so," he said; "for three of the lights of my eyes, three of
the guiding stars of my life, have been this day extinguished." Thus
reasoned M'Pherson; and, in the mysterious lights which he had seen, he
saw that the doom of his children had been announced. But there were
seven, he recollected, and his heart sunk within him as he thought of
the three gallant boys who were still spared to him. One of them, the
youngest, was at home with himself, the other two were in the
Army--soldiers in the 42nd Regiment, which then boasted of many privates
of birth and education. M'Pherson, however, still kept the appalling
secret of the mysterious lights to himself, and determined to await,
with resignation, the fulfilment of the destiny which had been read to
him, and which he now felt convinced to be inevitable.

The gallant regiment to which M'Pherson's sons belonged was, at this
period, abroad on active service. It was in America, and formed a part
of the army which was employed in resisting the encroachments of the
French on the British territories in that quarter.

The 42nd had, during the campaigns in the western world of that
period--viz. 1754 and 1758,--distinguished themselves in many a
sanguinary contest, for their singular bravery and general good conduct;
and the fame of their exploits rung through their native glens, and was
spread far and wide over their hills and mountains; for dear was the
honour of their gallant regiment to the warlike Highlanders. Many
accounts had arrived, from time to time, in the country, of their
achievements, and joyfully were they received. But, on the very day
after the loss of _The Catherine_, a low murmur began to arise, in