my son.
Take _him_, O king, and bind him,
And cast him far in the deep;
And it's I will tell the secret.
That I have sworn to keep."

They took the son and bound him,
Neck and heels in a thong,
And a lad took him and swung him,
And flung him far and strong,
And the sea swallowed his body,
Like that of a child of ten;--
And there on the cliff stood the father,
Last of the dwarfish men.

"True as the word I told you:
Only my son I feared;
For I doubt the sapling courage
That goes without the beard.
But now in vain is the torture,
Fire shall never avail:
Here dies in my bosom
The secret of Heather Ale."

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.

* * * * *

THE EXECUTION OF MONTROSE.

[James Graham, Marquis of Montrose, was executed in Edinburgh, May 21,
1650, for an attempt to overthrow the Commonwealth and restore Charles
II.]

Come hither, Evan Cameron!
Come, stand behind my knee--
I hear the river roaring down
Toward the wintry sea.
There's shouting on the mountain-side,
There's war within the blast--
Old faces look upon me,
Old forms go trooping past.
I hear the pibroch wailing
Amidst the din of fight,
And my dim spirit wakes again
Upon the verge of night.

'Twas I that led the Highland host
Through wild Lochaber's snows,
What time the plaided clans came down
To battle with Montrose.
I've told thee how the Southrons fell
Beneath the broad claymore,
And how we smote the Campbell clan
By Inverlochy's shore.
I've told thee how we swept Dundee,
And tamed the Lindsays' pride;
But never have I told thee yet
How the great Marquis died.

A traitor sold him to his foes;--
O deed of deathless shame!
I charge thee, boy, if e'er thou meet
With one of Assynt's name--
Be it upon the mountain's side,
Or yet within the glen,
Stand he in martial gear alone,
Or backed by armed men--
Face him as thou wouldst face the man
Who wronged thy sire's renown;
Remember of what blood thou art,
And strike the caitiff down!

They brought him to the Watergate,
Hard bound with hempen span.
As though they held a lion there,
And not a 'fenceless man.
They set him high upon a cart--
The hangman rode below--
They drew his hands behind his back,
And bared his noble brow.
Then, as a hound is slipped