the feet of Laura, I rushed upon it with my skenedhu-a weapon only four inches long.

The fury of my thoughts gave me treble strength, and insured me victory.

The aspect of this animal was appalling; its red eyes shot fire; a moment it paused, bellowing, roaring, and raking and stabbing, as it tore up the purple heather with its giant antlers; but with a cry of triumph I rushed full at him, and escaping by a blessed mercy his terrible array of points, buried my sharp skene-dhu in his broad chest.

Back went the noble head with its lofty antlers, the fore-legs were extended, and the knees bent as the red life-blood gushed out in torrents; but again and again my black knife was buried to its hilt in the snow-white chest of the stag-the wondrous stag of the Mac Innons!

His head rose and fell; his whole frame vibrated; he lolled out a hot steaming tongue, and sank at my feet, dead-this strange creature of a hundred gloomy legends-leaving me covered with gorepanting with excitement, and with the hilt of my skene-dhu glued to my right hand by the hideous puddle that had gushed upon it at each successive death-blow.

Laura was saved, and by me!

CHAPTER XXV.

THE GAEL AND THE SAXON.

HOIGH, Mac Innon!' exclaimed Callum Dhu, with a shout of triumph; such a feat has not been done since old Glengarry slew the wild stag in the pass of Glendulochan!'

I lifted Laura (who was faint and almost sick with terror) from her pony, and placed her on the soft grassy bank, where I besought her to be calm, as all danger was now past; but, on perceiving that my right hand and arm were drenched in blood, she uttered a cry, and clasping my left hand in hers, asked me in the most moving terms whether ‘I was hurt-if I was safe-uninjured-to speak to her, to say whether I was wounded or not?'

I forget alike her exact words and my answer; for we were both trembling and confused; but in that moment of excitement each had revealed to the other, more of mutual regard than any circumstance, save danger, could have drawn forth. On recovering a little, I said,—

For the act of to-day, I trust Miss Everingham, that you will think of me kindly when I am

gone.

Kindly!' she exclaimed, while her blooming prettiness became absolute beauty, as her fine eyes beamed, and her face filled with ardour, and with an expression of gratitude and joy; 'ah how can you speak so coldly-kindly?-say gratefully, lovingly, prayerfully. You will ever have all the gratitude— the esteem, my heart can feel!'

Thanks, dear Miss Everingham,' I replied, kissing her hand, while my voice and lips trembled; ' esteem is the first element of love. Without it no passion can endure.'

She grew pale-looked down, and trembled. 'And you go?—'

'Yes.'

'But, when?' she asked, lifting her eyes sadly to mine.

'Never-oh never! I go to return no more. It is the doom of our race, my dear Miss Everingham.' 'Oh say not so-but here comes dearest papa to thank you in better words than I can command.'

As she spoke, Sir Horace, accompanied by Miss Clavering, the Captain and Mr. Snobleigh, came down the mountain-path at a furious gallop, and with high alarm depicted in all their faces; however, a glance at the dead stag, at Laura seated, smiling on the bank, and her pony quietly cropping the grass beside her, explained in a moment that she was in perfect safety. Moreover, from the top of the hill, they had seen me rush upon the stag, and lay it dead at my feet. My skene-dhu, dripping with blood, explained all the

rest.

'Dearest Laura-and you are safe!' exclaimed Fanny Clavering, flinging off her broad hat as she sprang from her pony, and hurried to embrace her friend; 'oh heaven, my dear girl, I wish we were all safe again in London, or at Elton Hall! We have been little more than six months in these atrocious Highlands, and yet we have first had your papa-dear old stupid thing! nearly drowned; then we were all but burned alive in the shrubbery the other night; and to-day you on the verge of being torn to pieces by a wild animal!'

Aw-aw-Miss Everingham-you would be wilful,' yawned Snobleigh, and would go-aw into that fwightful jungle, where we lost you the wood of-of

'Coil-chro.'

'Aw-yes-those devilish 'Ighland names!'

I know of no better fun than to have a fine man of the Guards essaying to get his lazy tongue round an Argyleshire, or a Galway name. And so it was you, my brave fellow, who slew this noble stag?' asked the impulsive Fanny, blushing, as she laid her hand on the shoulder of Callum, who was kneeling

on the grass, and feeling the dead animal with his hands.

I-madam ?-No; it was slain by the chief-my master; and it is a deed that would long be remembered in Glen Ora, were there other inhabitants now than the red-roes and the moor-fowl.'

'Aw-my dear fellow, get your hands washed, for weally that wed blood is atwocious, 'pon my soul it is.'

'Stuff, Snobleigh,' said Captain Clavering; what the deuce does a little blood matter? You have done well and nobly, Mac Innon; but you look a little pale-you are not hurt, I hope ?'

'Not in the least.'

'Why don't you speak, Sir Horace?' said Miss Clavering, impetuously; 'have you not a tongue to thank him who saved your daughter's life?'

'I have a tongue, but not words, my dear Miss Clavering,' said the cold and pompous baronet. You have saved my Laura from a terrible death, sir,' he continued, addressing me with a warmth of manner somewhat unusual in him; stay among us, Mr. Mac Innon, and I shall leave nothing undone for your welfare-that is, if it is in my power, of course.'

'Aw-of course,' chorused the languid Suob leigh.

Do, Mr. Mac Innon,' added Fanny Clavering, bending her bright and beautiful eyes upon me, while she laid her pretty hand upon my arm; do, and all the past shall be forgotten.'

in a

Your offer comes too late, Sir Horace,' said I, broken voice, though my heart is rent in two by this separation from my native country-with that separation every tie is broken. Restore the people— restore that now ruined hamlet and desolate glen to what it was a month ago; give me back my poor old mother from her cold grave on yonder promontory, that grave to which your severity or the cruelty of

your underlings drove her, and then speak of remaining here; but not till then.'

Arms are the natural profession of a Highlander. said Captain Clavering, putting a hand on my shoulder in his frank English way; 'could you, Sir Horace, not do something for him at the Horse Guards?-Devilish sorry that I have no interest in that quarter myself.'

'It would afford me the utmost gratification to do so,' replied the stiff and pompous baronet, in his coldest manner; but really, the fact is, I do not feel myself at liberty to ask a favour from any of the present administration.'

'The deuce you don't?'

'Aw-of course,' hummed Snobleigh.

And there was an end of it; though I would have died rather than accepted the smallest favour at his hands. To be patronized by him! The idea was enough to call my mother's fiery spirit back to earth.

As a huntsman, Callum was now, by mere force of habit, proceeding to gralloch the stag with his sharpened skene; and as this work progressed, unfortunately for the legends of our glensmen, he found it to be-not two hundred years old-but a fine warrantable stag of at least six summers.

Well, my friend, the fox-hunter,' said Clavering; 'could you not stay among us-I'll take the odds on it, Sir Horace could do something for you.'

'Likely enough,' said the baronet, mounting; 'you would make a first-rate gamekeeper.'

Many thanks, sir,' replied Callum, touching his bonnet with a fierce and covert irony gleaming in his dark eyes; but the time has gone past, Englishman, for that too; we go, we go to return no more! You purchased this land, true; any other depopulating game speculator might have done so; but he who sold it to you-was it his to sell? It belonged to the people and not to him. The land was God's gift