"Oh! welcome to these coral halls, Fair Lady of the radiant brow, Thy beauty every heart enthralls, Thy virtues claim our willing vow.

The trident sceptre of the main, Oh! long, sweet Lady, may'st thou sway, And far as spreads yon liquid plain, Let every realm thy power obey."

Serena then answered in a sweet thrilling voice:--

"Thanks, thanks, Great Neptune, we will strive to prove, How much we prize our loyal subjects' love; And long as o'er these n.o.ble realms we reign, Will ever be the Guardian of the main."

Neptune then again approached the throne, and bowing, said--

"Fair Queen, your brother sovereign hear; I once more to your throne draw near, And what I say will not displease The gentle guardian of the Seas, We made a law some time ago, To which e'en you will gladly bow, That those who in our realms remain, Can ne'er their former name retain.

We'll change the one you bore above-- Victoria, is the name we love, That name shall through our realms resound, And echo far the Ocean round, And she beloved will ever be By Neptune's sons the bold and free."

Once more the Tritons broke into an enthusiastic chorus--

"Oh! long may'st thou reign, fair Queen of the Ocean, The blue waves are dancing in gladness and sheen, We thy Empire proclaim with joyful devotion, And repeat in glad chorus, Long life to our Queen.

The echoes are telling the tidings around, And joy on her brow gives bliss to the scene.

And long may the realms of old Ocean resound, That wish of our hearts, Long life to the Queen?"

Story 7--CHAPTER ONE.

STORY SEVEN--THE BOGIES OF GLEN BOGIE.

A gaily-painted ca.n.a.l boat was gliding smoothly and swiftly through the still waters of the Crinan Ca.n.a.l, which intersects the Mull of Cantire in Argyleshire. A steep bank of overhanging wood lay on one side, and on the other an open view stretched toward distant hills.

The day had been showery; drops sparkled upon the leaves, and pattered down on the boat as she pa.s.sed beneath the hanging boughs; light clouds were speeding across the clear blue heavens, and as the sun shone out a fairy-like rainbow lay along the hill-side.

With a rustling sound the boat cut through the placid water, and for a time none other broke the silence; the exquisite peace and beauty of the scene cast a spell upon the party who were pa.s.sengers on board, and, different as were the various tones of mind, one feeling seemed now to pervade the group. During this pause, let us examine the figures composing it.

That active well-formed man, with good sense and merriment in his clear kindly eye, and about his firm mouth, is Arthur Hardy. His early life of laborious self-denial, in support of dependent young brothers and sisters, has been rewarded with success and present prosperity.

The graceful lounging figure beside him, whose handsome features are clouded by such a look of inward dissatisfaction, is Edmund Bayntun, the luxurious and self-indulgent course of whose days lacks the stimulus of any object to rouse his faculties, brighten his eye, and dispel the dreamy gloom now habitual to his manner.

He and Hardy were school-fellows, and have unexpectedly met, to their great mutual pleasure. Edmund has just been introduced to Mrs Arthur Hardy and her pretty and rather romantic little sister, Helen Grey, and has been persuaded to join them in a visit they are about to pay to a hospitable Highland friend, instead of continuing his languid solitary wanderings.

He and Hardy were soon agreeably engaged in talking over early recollections and subsequent events; and the genuine kindness and lively good sense of the whole party tended considerably to overcome Bayntun's moody feelings, and dissipate the somewhat peevish melancholy in which he usually indulged.

Towards evening Hardy announced that they must prepare to go on sh.o.r.e, as they had reached the nearest available landing-place to Glennaclach, the residence of Mr Stewart. The mountain mists were tinged with glowing gold, and under the shadow of the dark hill-sides the waters of the loch looked grey and cold, when the party stepped into the little boat which came out to meet them. A few pa.s.sengers of an inferior rank accompanied them, and were heartily welcomed by the men in the boat in their wild Gaelic. Suddenly they all seemed to remember that there were strangers amongst them, and, with a courteousness which might put to the blush many more cultivated societies, continued their conversation in English; and addressing Hardy, as the evident head of the party, volunteered any a.s.sistance or information they could give. His plan had been at once to obtain some vehicle to convey them to his friend's house in Glennaclach, but this he found to be impossible, as the distance was considerable, and part of the road liable to be overflowed by the tide.

The only arrangement to be made, therefore, was to pa.s.s the night at the little inn near the landing-place, and proceed the following day on their visit. So Edmund Bayntun was condemned to spend the evening in an uncarpeted room, redolent of whisky and tobacco, the fumes of which ascended from the kitchen, where, as their usual rendezvous was occupied, the frequenters of the inn were holding their evening carousal; but the moon shone in a spreading path of silver upon the waters of the loch as the tide came rippling softly and steadily in, and he gazed upon it, and actually felt enjoyment. Soon from the party below rose and swelled a wild and melodious chorus, then a single voice sang alone, and again the chorus joined in, till it was suddenly hushed, and, after a little consultation, the landlord came up to ask, in the peculiarly delicate tone in which the Western Highlanders speak English, whether the ladies were annoyed by the noise below, as it should cease immediately if they wished it. Softened as it was, the effect of the music added much to their enjoyment, and they begged it might not be checked on their account.

Early the next day, in high spirits, and perfectly refreshed, though their accommodation had certainly been of the roughest description, the little party set off up Glennaclach, the gentlemen on foot and the ladies and carpet-bags in a cart full of straw, drawn by a rough wild-eyed pony, led by a Highlander equally so.

"Donald's but a daft lad, but he knows the road and will guide ye safely, so ye'll no be troubled with that," said the mistress of the inn, as she shook up the straw in the cart so as to form cushions for the two ladies.

Donald was at first sight what would, in England, be called a lad, till, on closer inspection, his thick loose curls were perceived to be mingled, not sparingly, with grey. These he shook down over his wild light-blue eyes whenever he spoke, but, as he heard the mistress's remark, he signified his appreciation of her confidence by throwing his head backwards, and, taking an inverted view of his charge, he opened his wide mouth and uttered the exclamation "Hech!" with a prolonged guttural aspiration. Then he addressed himself volubly to the pony in English and Gaelic indifferently, and not a word would he utter except for the information of this, his chosen friend and companion, in answer to any questions put to him.

Merrily they travelled, for the roads in Argyleshire are excellent, and the jolting of the cart, consequently, much less than they had ventured to antic.i.p.ate; so that there was nothing to interrupt their enjoyment of the varied, always lovely, scenery through which their road lay. Now they crossed an elevated ridge, where heath and grey rock were mingled in rich though subdued tints; then they descended through a wood of fairy birches, whose light foliage quivered against the pure blue sky, to the margin of the loch, which glistened in the morning sunlight, on one hand, and the steep grey rock formed a wall on the other, over which, amongst pines and stunted oaks, the broad heads and short wide horns of the Highland cattle would occasionally appear. As they ascended the glen new hills came into view, some apparently of smooth velvet surface, descending with an easy slope towards the waterside, where a fringe of varied wood was reflected so clearly that it was difficult to distinguish it from the reality; others, dark and rugged, refusing to smile even under the joyous rays of the young day. Bayntun was less obdurate in his gloom, but he seemed to check himself whenever he yielded to the enlivening influences of place and circ.u.mstances; while Hardy gave himself up so entirely to the pure pleasure of the moment, that his chest heaved, and his eyes filled with tears, and he could have thrown himself down upon the heather in an ecstasy of joy.

"How dark and gloomy that glen looks between the steep mountain and the round smooth hill on the opposite side of the lake!" exclaimed Helen Grey.

"What is that glen called, Donald?" asked Mr Hardy.

"Ye ken the name as weel as any other word ye speak, Sandie, so come away and dinna be wasting your breath with asking idle questions," said Donald, addressing the pony. Then, giving a leer at Helen from behind his grizzly locks, he began singing a few words of a Gaelic song; next he addressed some sentences in the same language to the pony, accompanied by a chuckling laugh; after which, he tossed back his head to take another inverted view of the party, and then giving a jerk to the short bridle by which he led the pony, he nodded to him in a patronising manner, saying, "Your memory's short, Sandie; but we should ay pity folks that's weak in mind, and so I'll answer ye. Yon's Glen Bogie, Sandie," he continued almost in a whisper; "but ye shouldna go there in the full of the moon, Sandie, for there's sights and sounds in Glen Bogie that would make a wise man quake and loosen his teeth in his head, much more a poor daft lad like you, Sandie. Dinna _ye_ gang there, Sandie, to hear the Campbells come down the glen to cry the coronach over their dead, and them dead and gone themselves these hundred years. Ha! ha! Sandie. I heard it once mysel' when the wind soughed in the trees and the burn roared amongst the stones; and I heard the rustle of their tartans, and when the moon shone out I saw them.

Hush, Sandie! Whisht, my bonnie man! The sun shines now, and we're no going to Glen Bogie."

The convulsive jerks he had given to the bridle here made the pony so restive, that Donald's whole attention was required to quiet him.

"That all sounds very delightful," said Helen, still gazing at the dark glen which branched off from the wider one up which they were proceeding.

"Have you a fancy for spectral coronachs, Helen?" asked Hardy, smiling.

"I must go to Glen Bogie," she replied in a very decided tone.

"And what says the little wife?" continued Arthur.

"Oh, by all means give Helen an opportunity of making friends with real bogies, and in Glen Bogie they must be genuine," answered Mrs Hardy.

"Besides, I cannot help thinking that there really was some ghastly tragedy enacted about here in which the Campbells were concerned. Glen Bogie may be the very spot."

"Oh, I hope so," exclaimed Helen, turning quite pale.

Suddenly Donald checked the pony's pace, and his own half-dancing ambling steps, as, after pa.s.sing a few thatched cottages roughly built of stone, they came in sight of a moderately-sized house, with wings added apparently as they were required; out-buildings and farm-house, surrounded by stately beech and spreading gene or wild cherry-trees.

Immediately in front of the house, which, like most Highland mansions, was slated and white-washed, a lawn, shaded by fine trees, sloped towards the lake, where two boats were moored close to a boat-house; while the adjoining portion of the slope was laid out in a garden, now basking in the sunshine.

"Tread lightly, Sandie; there's sorrow and pain at hand," said Donald, in a tone so mournful and different from the wild, half-scoffing manner he had before adopted, that a thrill of apprehension ran through the whole party. "There's sorrow yonder in the house of Glennaclach, and no cheering welcome for the Sa.s.senach strangers." His keen wandering glance had discovered one of the boats now moored to the sh.o.r.e, rowed hastily across the loch a few minutes before, and two figures hurrying up from it to the house. One of these he knew to be the only doctor in the glen. There were other signs of alarm and confusion; servants hastening to and fro, cottagers meeting and pausing as if to ask questions; and with all his wildness, half of which was but a.s.sumed to excite an interest which flattered his weak intellect, poor Donald was an acute observer, and sincerely attached to the family of the laird of Glennaclach, so that he readily took alarm. To the travellers, not perceiving the tokens by which he formed his suggestion, it had all the effect of the supernatural.

"Go you forward alone, Misther Hardy," said Donald, addressing him for the first time; "and if there's a welcome for you, come back and fetch the ladies, and,"--here he designated Bayntun by a certain contemptuous turn of the chin towards him.

"But why should you doubt it, Donald?" asked Hardy.

"Go you forward, Misther Hardy, or I maun go myself," repeated Donald impatiently, and holding the pony firmly, as if determined that he at least should not proceed.

To humour him, Hardy followed his directions, but as he neared the house, a sound fell upon his ear which alarmed him; a boyish voice uttered a suppressed moan of intense suffering, repeated, yet apparently controlled by an effort. Seeing him pause, one of the group of people who stood with grief and terror in their countenances outside the door came towards him.

"Make haste, sir, if you are a doctor and can do him any good. He is not dead, though I never thought to hear the sound of his voice again when the tree gave way with him, and I saw the bonnie lad go down over the crags like a stane."

"What has happened?" inquired Hardy. "I am no doctor, but I will gladly give any help I can."

Then followed a voluble explanation in Gaelic from the whole group, interspersed with a few words in English, from which Hardy learned that one of the laird's younger brothers, in climbing along the crags by the side of a waterfall, had trusted his weight to a slight tree which gave way with him, precipitating him into the rocky bed of the foaming torrent. The doctor was now examining the injuries he had received.

While the women were speaking, a young man appeared at the door and said a few words to them in a kind but determined tone, which had the effect of instantly silencing and dispersing them; and he then perceived Hardy.

"Hardy, is this your promised visit? Alone, and at this unfortunate moment? Not that you are the less welcome," he added, shaking him warmly by the hand, and leading him into the house.

The gleam of reason which had dictated Donald's suggestion vanished as soon as Hardy followed it, and he began indulging in crazy merriment at having produced the excitement and alarm so visible in the faces of the three remaining strangers. Though Bayntun would not have confessed it, his imagination was strangely excited, and his nerves shaken, when Hardy and the young laird came together from the house.

"I am sorry to say that Donald's conjecture was but too correct," said Arthur; after introducing his friend; "and I have succeeded in convincing Glennaclach, much against his hospitable inclination, that he would distress us all by receiving us under such circ.u.mstances." He then briefly explained what had happened, and his own proposition that they should proceed to Glen Bogie.

"Since you will positively not remain with me, it is some satisfaction to know that at Glen Bogie, notwithstanding the ill-omened connection it has with my house, you will meet with a more hospitable reception, if you do not fear it for its reputation of being haunted," said the young man. "My boats are at your service to take you there; and I am vexed at not having the pleasure of myself introducing you to the scenery of the Glen; but in my mother's present anxiety respecting my brother, I cannot leave her even for a few hours. His hurts are not dangerous, however, and I hope to-morrow to be able to bring you all back to my house."

As he spoke, he carefully a.s.sisted the ladies to alight from the cart, returning Donald's reverential salutation kindly, and desiring him to convey what Donald called the _thravelling_ bags down to the boat.

Helen thought of Fergus McIvor, of course, though nothing could be more dissimilar from the hero of Waverley than the frank, simple-mannered young Highlander, who, with kind quiet courtesy, was handing Mrs Hardy down the sloping lawn. Two men were ready in the boat, which was carefully spread with plaids, and Mr Stewart, or Glennaclach, as he was called in a district where the name Stewart is so frequent that it is absolutely necessary to distinguish the proprietors by the names of their estates, having given his orders to the men in their native language, and placed his intended guests comfortably, gave the boat a shove off from the sh.o.r.e, and lifted his bonnet as a parting salute.