oud and shrill strain had been composed in honor of her, would it
not bring some color of pleasure to the pale face? So thought Donald at
least; and he had his eyes fixed on her as he played as he had never
played before that day. And if she did not know the cunning modulations
and the clever fingering, Macleod knew them, and the men knew them; and
after they got ashore they would say to him,--

"Donald, that was a good pibroch you played for the English lady."

But what was the English lady's thanks? Donald had not played over sixty
seconds when she turned to Macleod and said,--

"Keith I wish you would stop him. I have a headache."

And so Macleod called out at once, in the lad's native tongue. But
Donald could not believe this thing, though he had seen the strange lady
turn to Sir Keith. And he would have continued had not one of the men
turned to him and said,--

"Donald, do you not hear? Put down the pipes."

For an instant the lad looked dumbfounded; then he slowly took down the
pipes from his shoulder and put them beside him, and then he turned his
face to the bow, so that no one should see the tears of wounded pride
that had sprung to his eyes. And Donald said no word to any one till
they got ashore; and he went away by himself to Castle Dare, with his
head bent down and his pipes under his arm; and when he was met at the
door by Hamish, who angrily demanded why he was not down at the quay
with his pipes, he only said,--

"There is no need of me or my pipes any more at Dare; and it is
somewhere else that I will now go with my pipes."

But meanwhile Macleod was greatly concerned to find his sweetheart so
cold and distant; and it was all in vain that he pointed out to her the
beauties of this summer day--that he showed her the various islands he
had often talked about, and called her attention to the skarts sitting
on the Erisgeir rocks, and asked her--seeing that she sometimes painted
a little in water-color--whether she noticed the peculiar, clear,
intense, and luminous blue of the shadows in the great cliffs which they
were approaching. Surely no day could have been more auspicious for her
coming to Dare?

"The sea did not make you ill?" he said.

"Oh no," she answered; and that was true enough, though it had produced
in her agonizing fears of becoming ill which had somewhat ruffled her
temper. And besides, she had a headache. And then she had a nervous fear
of small boats.

"It is a very small boa