"Corboeuf!" exclaimed De Mesmai, "what a jovial song,—more merry than musical, though. I have a dozen minds to strike up the Marseillois hymn."
"Stay,—hearken a moment."
They were singing a well-known Scottish song,[*] and one which had become so popular at the mess, that it always followed the standing toast of "Here's to the Highlandmen, shoulder to shoulder!" and was chorused in a most methodical manner. By the noisy accompaniments of glasses clanked upon the table, and heels upon the floor, it was evident the company were pretty mellow. Some of the windows being open for the admittance of cool air, the bold chorus, chanted by thirty voices, rolled out into the still night air, and echoed among the deserted streets:
[*] "Donald Macdonald:" a song composed in 1803 by the Ettrick Shepherd, to the tune of "Wooed, and married, and a'."
"Sword, and buckler, and a',
Buckler, and sword, and a';
For George we'll encounter the devil,
Wi' sword, and buckler, and a'."
Now Campbell's loud sonorous voice, chanting alone, awoke the echoes of the place:
"The Gordon is gude in a hurry;
And Campbell is steel to the bane;
And Grant, and Mackenzie, and Murray,
And Cameron, will hurkle to nane.
The Stuart is sturdy and wannel,
And sae is Macleod and Mackay;
And I, their gude brither, Macdonald,
Sall never be last in the fray."
"Chorus again, gentlemen,"—(and the thirty struck in):
"Brogues, and brochan, and a',
Brochan, and brogues, and a';
And up wi' the bonnie blue bonnet,
The kilt, the feather, and a'."
As the chorus died away in the aisles and cloisters of the adjacent church, the door was thrown open, and Ronald, leading his French friend, entered. All eyes were turned instantly towards them.