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Rh Old Munro, who served all his lifetime in the employ of the Stuarts as piper, and other useful situations, had not for some time played except on special occasions, as his son was now grown up and able to relieve his father from that task, and was equally proficient, through his tuition, and the McKay's, the king of pipers.

On this day, however, old Munro struck up his large pipes to the surprise of all, particularly his own son, and played as of yore at the head of the procession, beside his son, keeping pace to the stop, and each note of the mournful wail—"the Lament of the Dead."

The distance to the churchyard was something considerable, and only fit for younger lungs, such as Donald's, to keep up the strain. Donald often cast a glance at the old veteran, expecting every moment to see him drop under the severe performance, but he was mistaken; the old piper, as if animated by some spiritual power, with a firm step, never missed the slightest note, or ceased the thrilling strain until the remains were placed in their narrow home. Then, with heroic animation, he took his old favourite instrument, which had often swelled the heart of many a Highlander, and smashed it into atoms against one of the gravestones, exclaiming in Gaelic—"Gu la bhrath cha chlinun mae mather fuuim mo mheur a'd dheigh" ("Never more shall a mother's son hear the notes of my fingers after thee.") This was but too true, for the faithful old piper had so strained his lungs that a rapid consumption supervened, which carried him to his grave, and he was shortly afterwards laid near his old master in Killinn churchyard.

After the foregoing melancholy occurrence Charlie and Bella did not meet, as Mr. McKay kept strict watch upon them. The term of the lease, or Martinmas, was drawing nigh, when he would be obliged to give up his ancestral home, and relinquish for ever his claims to Kinlochlinn, where he had spent so many happy days,