n' o' this
freet," said an incredulous-looking member of the company; "for when I
passed Lochdow this mornin' I neither saw nor heard o' a lin; an' frae
this window we can a' see Benenck wi' his white night-cap on; an' he wad
hae little to do that wad try to shoal it aff."

"It's neither o' the still water nor the stay brae that the word was
spoke," replied the dame, with a disdainful frown; "they tak' nae part
in our doings: but kent ye nae that Lochdow himsel' had tined his sight
in a cataract; an' is nae there dule an' din eneuch in Glenfern the day?
An' kent ye nae that Benenck had his auld white pow shaven, an' that
he's gettin' a jeezy frae Edinburgh?--an' I'se warran' he'll be in his
braw wig the very day that Glenfern'll be laid in his deal coffin."

The company admitted the application was too
close to be resisted; but the same sceptic (who, by-the-bye, was only a
low country merchant, elevated by purchase to the dignity of a Highland
laird) was seen to shrug his shoulders, and hear to make some sneering
remarks on the days of second-sights and such superstitious nonsense
being past. This was instantly laid hold of; and amongst many others of
the same sort, the truth of the following story was attested by one of
the party, as having actually occurred in his family within his own
remembrance.

"As Duncan M'Crae was one evening descending Benvoilloich, he perceived
a funeral procession in the vale beneath. He was greatly surprised, not
having heard of any death in the country; and this appeared to be the
burial of some person of consequence, from the number of the attendants.
He made all the haste he could to get down; and as he drew near the
counted all the lairds of the country except my father, Sir Murdoch. He
was astonished at this, till he recollected that he was away to the low
country to his cousin's marriage; but he felt curious to know who it
was, though some unaccountable feeling prevented him from mixing with
the followers. He therefore kept on the ridge of the hill, right over
their heads, and near enough to hear them speak; but although he saw
them move their lips, no sound reached his ear. He kept along with the
procession in this way till it reached the Castle Dochart
burying-ground, and there it stopped. The evening was close and warm,
and a thick mist had gathered in the glen, while the tops of the hills
shone like gold. Not a breath of air was stirring, but the trees that
grew round the bury