Chapter Two.
Saved—Rory and Ralph—McBain has an Idea.
There is probably no music in the world more spirit-stirring—when heard amongst the native hills—than that of the Highland bagpipe. How often it has led our Scottish troops to victory, and cheered their drooping hearts in times of trouble, let history tell. In the London streets the sound of the pipes may be something vastly different, and then the pipers get undue blame.
The little party who left the Castle of Arrandoon to go in search of Ralph and Rory did well to have Peter and his bagpipes included in their number, for, so long as they were within hearing distance of the castle, the music would give hope to those left behind; and when beyond that, it would not only serve to while away the time of the searchers, but even in the darkness it might perchance be heard by the sought.
The road they had taken led upwards through the pine forest for more than a mile, and even when it left the wood it still ascended, until it at last joined the old highway to Inverness. This was quite high up among the mountains—so high, indeed, that even the most distant peaks were visible on the other side of the lake.
“Surely,” said McBain, “we shall meet your friends ere long.”
“I fear the very worst,” said Allan, gloomily, “for, had they not left the road for some purpose or another, they would have reached the glen long before this time. Rory would have his sketch-book, and both of them are fond of wild scenery.”
“Wild scenery indeed!” said McBain; “they needn’t leave the road to search for that.”
His words were surely true, for a grander scene than that around them it would be difficult to imagine.