Herewith the head incontinently disappeared, there was the sound of a heavy step, and a tall figure loomed in the doorway.
"Wait!" said I, as, fumbling about, I presently found tinder-box and candle, having lighted which I turned and beheld a man—an exceedingly tall man—clad in the full habit of a Scottish Highlander. By his side hung a long, straight, basket-hilted sword, beneath one arm he carried a bagpipe, while upon his head was—not a horn—but a Scot's bonnet with a long eagle's feather.
"Oh, man," said he, eyeing me with a somewhat wry smile, "I'm juist thinkin' ye're no' afeared o' bogles, whateffer!"
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HIGHLAND PIPER
"Who are you?" said I, in no very gentle tone.
"Donal's my name, sir, an' if ye had an e'e for the tartan, ye'd ken I was a Stuart."
"And what do you want here, Donald Stuart?"
"The verra question she'd be askin' ye'sel'—wha' gars ye tae come gowkin' an' spierin' aboot here at sic an hour?"
"It is my intention to live here, for the future," said I.