were feudal serfs, while we-the Celts-were freemen, and our land belonged not to the chiefs, but to the people; it was ours; but lawyers came with their feu-charters and damnable legalities, and then the patriarchal clansman became what you find him now, something between a slave and an outcast-a wretch to be retained or expelled at the will of his landlord. The chief was a thing of our breath, whom we could make or unmake; but the land, with its mountains, woods, and waters, was the unalienable birthright of the people; it was their home-their dwelling-place their grave! The King of Scotland could neither give it nor take it away, for it was the patrimony of the tribes of the Gael; and it was for this patriarchal right in the land that John of Moidart and Ranald Galda died at the battle of Blairleine!'

' And so the land belonged to the Gael,' continued Snaggs, with his calm sneer; 'but who gave it to them?'

"God!' replied Callum, lifting his bonnet with reverence; but no doubt, Mr. Snaggs, a lawyer like you will have more faith in feu-charters, and bonds, and bank-notes, than in Him; it is only to be expected of one of your dirty trade; and now I have only a few words more.'

'I am glad to hear it.'

'It would be a blessing for Scotland if you, and every man such as you, were groping among the weeds at the bottom of Loch Ora, each with a goodsized stone at his neck; and it would be a greater blessing if the unwieldy estates of her absentee proprietors were held by residents who would spend their rents—not in London and in Paris-but among the people from whom they are drawn, and on the soil from whence they are raised; and for this reason, Mr. Snaggs, and many others, the sooner Scotland is rid of her fustian chiefs and so-called nobility the better for herself. So much, Mr. Snaggs, for the Lay of the Last Outlaw!'

With these words Callum gave the table a kick, that sent it flying right over the head of Snaggs, whose religious tracts, rent-books, papers, and luncheon, were scattered in every direction by this champion of Celtic rights, who shouldered his fowling-piece, and hastened up the glen to meet me, and relate all that had passed.

CHAPTER VIII.

MINNIE.

THOUGH few men in their senses ever think of consulting Hansard, I may mention, that the debates in 1823 will be found to corroborate much of what Callum advanced in his own peculiar way.

Minnie, who was an amiable and good-natured girl, became alarmed by the sudden violence of her lover, and its probable effect upon the temper of Mr. Snaggs; she busied herself in collecting all that worthy's papers, dockets, and religious tracts, which had been spilled and scattered abroad by the unexpected capsize of the table, at which he had beer seated with much legal dignity and assumed benignity of aspect.

Thank you, my good girl,' said Snaggs, on recovering his breath and lawyer-like composure; ‘thank you-I shall not forget this.'

Thank you, sir, a thousand times,' replied Minnie, curtsying very low, as she thought of her old uncle's unpaid arrears.

Minnie Mac Omish was a very pretty girl; under a little lace cap, her silky brown hair was braided in two thick masses over her temples and little ears, and enough remained to form a heavy knot behind, where

two very bewildering little curls, that were the joy of Callum's heart, played upon her plump white neck. Her eyes were large, blue, and expressive; her bust full and perfect; her figure firm and graceful, and a healthy bloom, that came with the free mountain air, tinged her rounded cheeks with red.

'You are a good girl,' continued the factor, slipping a half-crown into her hand, and this will buy a ribbon for your pretty neck,' he added, kissing her cheek, much to Minnie's surprise.

Oh, Mr. Snaggs,' said she, anxiously, and with tears, as the worthy elder still lingered near her, after mounting his pony, 'I hope you will forget Callum's fury, and show some mercy to my poor old uncle, Gillespie Ruadh-he is old-his wife is sick, and they have seven children.'

The mystical number seems to be the established one in Glen Ora, my dear,' said Snaggs, retaining the girl's hand in his, despite her timid efforts to withdraw it; by-the-by, lass, can you tell me how many cattle are in the glen?'

6 Some would be sure to die after we had reckoned them; and St. Colme knows we have few enough for the poor people.'

This was said, of course, in Gaelic, but Snaggs understood it, for, pressing her hand, he added, more kindly,

My good girl, I wish I had you in my own house at Inverness (I am a quiet old bachelor), that I might teach you the folly of believing in such personages as St. Colme, and in these old remnants of popery and superstition, which warp the ideas of the

people, and prevent the diffusion of a purer religion into these barbarous districts. Be assured, my dear girl, "that when religion is neglected," as the divine Blair says, "there can be no regular or steady practice of the duties of morality.'

'But how about my poor old uncle, sir?' she urged again, with tears in her eyes.

6

Gillespie Ruadh is long-very long in arrear,' said Snaggs, pretending to consult his note-book, while squinting over it, at the pretty face that was so anxiously upturned to his; 'let me see-let me

see-'

• In arrears?'

Ay, heavily-not a payment has he made since Whitsunday was two years.'

'Alas! I know that,' said Minnie, beginning to

weep.

'Now, don't spoil those pretty eyes of yours, Min

nie-'

'What shall I tell my uncle?'

Oho,' whispered Snaggs, over whose eyes there shot a strange and baleful gleam; he asked you to intercede with me?"

'Yes, sir,' replied Minnie, with hesitation. 'Meet me to-night at dusk—'

'Where?'

At the Clach-na-greiné,' said Snaggs, sinking his voice lower still.

But why at dusk, and why at such a lonely place?' Is not one place the same as another-when the spirit of God is everywhere? But tell no one of this; and when there, I will give you a message-ay, it may be a receipt in full for Gillespie.'

Heaven will reward you, sir.'

It rewards all who have faith, even as a grain of mustard-seed, Minnie,' said the factor, touching his garron with his riding-switch. Can you read English, Minnie?'

'A little, sir.'

Then take these tracts, "The Sinner's Deathbed"

The Pious Policeman ". "The God-fearing Footman"-read them to your friends, and say they were given by Snaggs the factor, whom they hate so much --and see that you have all the contents by rote tonight, when we meet at moonrise near the Clach-nagreine. But say not a word to any human being on the subject, or the sequel may prove the worse for your uncle Gillespie Ruadh-do not forget Minnieat moonrise ;' and with these words and an impressive gleam in his glassy deceitful eyes, Mr. Snaggs trotted down the glen to join the minister in prayer at the bedside of a dying cotter, and thereafter to dine with Sir Horace at the new manor-house of Glen Ora.

CHAPTER IX.

THE RED PRIEST OF APPLECROSS.

I HEARD, with the utmost alarm, the relation of all that had passed, and felt assured that my doom and the doom of our people were sealed. To Mr. Snaggs, Callum had said nothing more than I would have said, but the chances are that, had I encountered him, my bearing might have been more violent.

The glen will be swept like Glentuirc,' said Callum, as we descended the hill slowly and thoughtfully; swept bare as my hand, devil a doubt of it.'

And the old jointure-house, Callum- our last home on earth-sick and ailing as my poor mother is, how is she ever to be got out of it?'

'Never alive, I fear me.'

I shuddered at his answer, for he as well as I knew the strange old tradition connected with it.