"Duncan Campbell was the laird of Inverawe Castle in the Highlands, and with us was called, from his estate, Inverawe. One evening he heard a knocking at his door, and, opening it, saw a stranger with torn clothes and his hands and kilt smeared with blood. He said that he had killed a man in a quarrel and that men were after him in order to slay him. He asked for shelter. Inverawe promised to conceal him. The man said, 'Swear it on your dirk,' and Inverawe did so. He hid the man in a secret room in his castle. Soon after there was a knocking at his gate, and two men entered.
"'Your cousin Donald has just been murdered, and we are looking for the murderer.' Inverawe couldna go back on his oath, and said he kenned naught of the fugitive; and the men kept on in pursuit. He lay down in a dark room, and went to sleep. Waking up, he saw the ghost of his cousin Donald by his bedside, and heard him say:—
"'Inverawe! Inverawe! Blood has been shed. Shield not the murderer.' When the morning came, he went to the man and told him he could conceal him no longer.
"'You have sworn on your dirk,' the man replied. The laird didna know what to do. He led the man to a mountain, and hid him in a cave, and told him he wouldna betray him.
INVERAWE'S FATE FORETOLD
"The next night his cousin Donald appeared to him again, and said, 'Inverawe! Inverawe! Blood has been shed. Shield not the murderer.'
"When the sun came up, Inverawe went to the cave, but the man was gone. That night the ghost appeared again, a grewsome sight, but not so stern. 'Farewell! Farewell! Inverawe!' it said. 'Farewell till we meet at Ticonderoga.'
"Inverawe joined the Black Watch. They were hunting us down in the Highlands, after we had been out with Charlie. When this war came on, the King granted us a pardon if we would enlist; and right glad we were to get out of the country. We reached here and learned that we were to attack Ticonderoga. All of us knew the story. When we reached there, the officers said: 'This is not Ticonderoga. This is Fort George.' On the morning of the battle, Inverawe came from his tent, a broken man, and went to the officers, ghastly pale. 'I have seen him. You have deceived me. He came to my tent last night. This is Ticonderoga; I shall die to-day.'"
"But he didn't die that day," said Martin. "He was hit in the arm, and didn't die till ten days after."