Company now ceased dancing, and filed to the sides of the barn, as the Grieve now emerged from a side door with a large kettle in one hand and a glass in the other, two men following carrying plates of oat-cake. He approached Glenbenrough, and poured out a bumper of hot whisky toddy; other attendants appeared in succession, also carrying kettles, jugs, and glasses. Glenbenrough advanced to the centre, and then, uttering distinctly a few sentences, in Gaelic, of good-will and welcome to his people, quaffed off his bumper. A loud buzz and murmur ran round the room, as an old man, with long white hair and dressed in a suit of dark blue woollen, now advanced and, holding a glass full above his head, paused while glasses were filled round. He then with great gesticulation made a speech in Gaelic, and, clasping Glenbenrough's hand with one of his, turned and called out the Gaelic signal, at a toast, of "Neish, neish, neish!" (now, now, now). The words were repeated with magic celerity by all the men, and then followed a burst of cheering, as they all drank to the clan of Mac Neil and the roof-tree of Glenbenrough. The excitement increased and subsided, then increased for several minutes. Some of the old men sprang forward and shook their beloved laird's hand; and exclamations in Gaelic and English continued, until all the people present had emptied their glasses: about a dozen of the latter doing duty for the whole company. Colonel Sternbotham saw Miss Christy drain off a glass-full, after three kilted men had just had the same glass at their lips. Miss Christy catching his eye in a glare of appalled interrogation, winked and nodded amicably to him from the distance. The colonel, shocked and disgusted, shut his eyes. 66 Whisky toddy will now make frequent circuit," Esmé said to Marchmoram; "there will be rounds after every few reels." She rose and went towards Norah, who was standing near the door with Lady Mac Neil and her cousins, and whispered a few words. Norah nodded, and Esmé stepped through the crowd of country people and went out at the door into the open air. HIGHLAND CHARACTERISTICS. CHAPTER VI. 65 THE PROPER SOCIETY LIBRA NEW-YOR? HIGHLAND CHARACTERISTICS My golden flagons I would fill To many a sportive hour.-CAMPBELL. Ir was a still and lovely night, the moon shining in harvest brightness, and the pure cool air was a delightful change from the heated atmosphere of the barn, where the odours of peat smoke from homely garments, and the fumes of hot toddy were now becoming perceptible. The moonlight was brightening with its mellow radiance the grand scenery around, rocks and trees casting dark shadows that made the light appear more brilliant. The sound of the pipes and the shouts of the dancers came subdued on the open air as Esmé moved on to the road, and stood still for an instant. A step was heard, and Auber stood beside her. "Where are you going, Miss Esmé? You passed me like a ghost, as I stood without just now, also admiring this Highland moon. "I am going to the house to see if supper is ready, as Norah thinks Mrs. Sternbotham and Lady Mac Neil are tired," she replied; "and I shall tell Cameron to come and announce it as soon as possible. Do not come with me, for I must run." "And do you think I can't run, too, Miss Esmé ?" asked Auber, laughing. "Let us try who'll win the race.' "Well-off! Esmé laughed, and bounded forward like a young deer. They passed Florh with her son Huistan, the shepherd, who were coming thus late to the ball, from Lochandhu, and had just descended the Roua Pass. Florh turned and looked after Esmé and Auber flying side by side in the moonlight. She spoke in Gaelic to Huistan. "Where gaes my young roe with yon English fallow buck? "Not far, ye may be sure, mither," Huistan replied: pretty rinning." "I dinna like the match." Florh said, drily. on to the dance." its "Let us gae Auber's gallantry would not allow him to beat Esmé, and they reached the hall door together. Not many minutes after she re-appeared at the open door. "Good old Cameron promises to announce supper in halfan-hour, Mr. Auber, so I shall return to tell Norah now." As they advanced, Auber suddenly started, and drew Esmé back by her arm, as an unearthly-looking spectre appeared in the path before them. Leaning against the trunk of a tall firtree, with head thrust forward as if intently listening, appeared a gigantic half-naked man, who waved them back with furious gestures. His face was gray and gaunt, and masses of coarse red hair hung matted to his shoulders; his naked brawny legs, covered with reddish hair, straddled Colossus-like in the moonlight. With his right hand he wielded a large gleaming hammer, and with the other he held together a grimy smoke-stained blanket, which formed his principal covering. "Hush!" said Esmé; "don't speak, Mr. Auber, it is Angus N'Ort (Angus of the hammer). The music from the barn is enraging him he's not safe now." "How, in God's name, comes he here? What is he?" Auber exclaimed. "He's one of our fools," Esmé said, as she glanced nervously around for some way of getting past unobserved. Auber led her up the bank, and they passed close to him behind the trees, his eyes flashing restlessly in search of them. Suddenly he caught sight of Esmé's white dress, and, with a yell like a Gaelic battle cry, the madman darted from his tree and again stood in front of them. He threw his arms up vehemently in the air, and, foaming with rage, yelled out, "" 'Approach not !-advance not! Hear ye the sound o' the timbrel an' dance? I'll cleave ye-I 'll brain ye! I am here on the path o' the Lord to save ye from the perdition o' hell. Hear ye no hell in yonder? See ye no the flames from the door? Hear ye no the devilry of crackling mirth and the dancing of the damned within? See ye not Beelzebub blowing the pipes, and hear ye no the yowls o' the lost? Gae back, gae back! or I'll rend your souls out 'ere they gae dancing in there!" He made a rush up the bank, brandishing the hammer aloft. Auber had scarce time to exclaim in horror, when Esmé, disengaging herself from his protecting grasp, stood forward to meet the madman. Holding up her hands, she rapidly made the sign of the cross before him; as he advanced, she retreated down the bank, still facing him and holding her hands up in the form of the cross; the madman following, subdued. "Go home, Angus! Go home to your aunty Bab," Esmé kept saying; "she can't say her prayers until you go home." When she got near enough to the door, the burst of sound from within seemed again to rouse the fury of the madman; but turning away from her uplifted hands, he rushed howling towards the wood, disappearing from sight; but the strokes of his hammer smiting the trees, along with his yells, reverberated until he was far in the distance. "If I had not held up my arms in the form of the cross, he would have attacked us," Esmé said, as Auber the next moment joined her. "He is religiously mad: the most dangerous kind amongst our Highland madnesses, and that was the only way to calm him." "How, in Heaven's name, is he allowed to go loose?" Auber exclaimed. Esmé smiled. "There are no lunatic asylums within a hundred and sixty miles of this. Every district of the Highlands has its average number of wandering fools:' in general they are very harmless, and we like them. The Highlanders are very superstitious, too, on this point, and would not be guilty of harshness or unkindness to one of them on any account: no one ever turns a fool from the door, or refuses him charity. There is daft Jock, who almost lives in Glenbenrough kitchen, and is a clean, harmless creature; you'll see our servants dancing with him to-night. And there was 'Foolish Jeanie,' whom we liked to walk with as children: she was quite an improvisatore in Gaelic, and a vision seer. This Angus N'Ort, however, comes of a mad family, and we are afraid of him: papa could tell you a most horrible story of him going to the lonely church-yard on the hill, where his mother had lately been buried, digging up her coffin with his nails, and being found, the country people said, about to make the feast of the ghoul. He was brought up as a blacksmith (whence his name), but went mad on religion twenty years ago, and he takes dangerous fits if excited by any merry-making. He lives in a hovel beyond the Roua Pass, with an old aunt who is crazy on some points too, and has never been known to speak since death of Angus's mother. She sits, from morning to night, at her cottage door, knitting stockings; and-is it not curious?she is always seen knitting at the heel no one ever saw her begin or end a stocking, and yet she has piles of them made and stored away. Her only luxury is snuffing, which she delights in." I consider this state of things more original than pleasant," Auber replied, as they again entered the barn. A country dance was forming, and had already reached half way down the room; but as not a third of the country people` present could reach that complexity of figure, it was more select than the universal reels had been. Glenbenrough and Lady Mac Neil were to lead it off; Norah and Harold stood next; Marion, Julia, and Ishbel, allotted to the schoolmaster, factor, and grieve, stood near. The whole family party, with the exception of Colonel and Mrs. Sternbotham, were to be engaged, and the fiddlers moved uneasily in their seats, evidently impatient to use their bows. Marchmoram was standing at the door as Esmé and Auber entered, and instantly claimed her. Auber sat down, as Esmé and Marchmoram took their places, and Florh Mackenzie and the Glenbenrough gamekeeper came and stood next them. The fiddles gave a flourish, and with cross hands and down the middle, away flew the Laird and Lady Mac Neil. Couples followed in quick succession: Ishbel went down at full speed, the grieve, a short stout man, puffing and panting in his efforts to keep up with her. Norah and Harold flew along also, laughing as they danced; the fiddles played fast and furiously, and it was necessary to keep up a rapid pace to avoid collision as the couples increased in number. Down they came in close pursuit, old and young, stout and thin, active and awkward; and then, when the leaders turned, on reaching the wall at the end, the sudden stoppage of the living stream made them surge in a heaving mass for a moment or two, till the retrograde impulse came, and back they went in an overwhelming torrent to the top again. There was an occasional little shriek when a hobnailed shoe struck a satin slipper, but every one was laughing and dancing with all their might. Marchmoram shielded Esmé with a strong arm and bore her along in safety throughout, till they had reached the end and there was a respite; when he crossed over to her side. There were three men standing together not far off, one of whom had frequently attracted Esmé's attention, principally by his appearance, but also by a feeling that his gaze was often stedfastly fixed upon herself. He was a short, slight man, with a lithe, agile figure, dressed in black, which made his olive complexion look still darker. The expression of his face varied |