Evan's deprecating reply was cut short by a shout from their baffled enemies, who, firing their pieces at random, rushed hurriedly towards the ford, mingling their outcries with the yells of their dogs. But the unexpected appearance of the large watch-fire blazing on the plain, and the dusky forms of the soldiery crowding around it, served completely to check their pursuit; and with many a hoarse malediction and threat, after firing a volley in the direction where they supposed the fugitives to be, they retired with precipitation into the fastnesses of the cork-wood.

"What a cursed adventure we have had!" exclaimed the officer, throwing away the pouch and musquet of Lazarillo de Xeres de los Cavalleros, when they halted to draw breath for a few seconds. "Evan Iverach, you are a rash fellow: by firing that useless shot we might all have lost our lives. It may also have alarmed the troops yonder, and caused them to get under arms."

"O'd, sir, never mind; there's nae folk like our ain folk," replied his follower, capering gaily when the figures of their countrymen, clad in the martial Scottish garb, became more distinct. "O how my heart loups at sicht o' the belted plaid, the braw filledh-beg, and the bare legs o' our ain douce chields."

"Wha gangs there?" shouted close by the voice of an advanced sentry, the black outline of whose bonnet and grey great-coat they saw looming through the gloom. "Wha gangs there?"

"Friend!" replied Ronald.

"Friends, friends,—hurrah!" cried his follower, rushing upon the astonished sentry, and grasping him by the hand.

CHAPTER XVII.

A MEETING.

"Our fathers contended in war; but we meet together at the feast. Our swords are turned on the foe of our land: he melts before us on the field. Let the days of our fathers be forgot, hero of Mossy Strumon."—Ossian.

Around the ample fire, on which a succession of billets and crackling branches were continually heaped, were grouped some seventy or eighty soldiers—Gordon Highlanders, as was evident from their yellow facings, and the stripes of their tartan. The fairness of their complexions and the bright colour of their untarnished uniform served likewise to show that they had but recently arrived from Great Britain. Some lay fast asleep between the piles or bells of arms, while others crowded round the fire conversing in that low voice, and behaving in that restrained manner, which the presence of an officer always imposes on British soldiers.