A HIGHLAND OUTLAW.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIII, Issue 1917, 18 October 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

A HIGHLAND OUTLAW.

Of Aiii/the castles that Btood in the neighborhood of the Highlands, none was lordlier in its situation, or more noted for its hospitality and good cheer, than that of Sir John Campbell ; and on the night that our story opens it was ablaze with lights, and filled with a goodly company ; for a great English lord had come to claim the hand of Sir John's beautiful daughter, Margaret, and a great feast had been prepared in his honor. Along the walls of the hall brass-studded shields, battle-axes, and pieces of armor gleamed in the light of hundreds of candles, which burned in sconces of antique silver. The betrothal had taken place when both parties were mere children, as sometimes happened in those days ; and now, she having reached the age of nineteen, Lord Linton was come, with a great retinue of servants and great state, to claim his bride, and carry her away to his English hall. The feast was spread ; at the head of the table sat Sir John, tall and spare, with grizzled moustache and hair. He was an old campaigner, and had seen service in Flanders and many foreign lands. He was dressed in a hunting suit of green, but wore over his shoulder the plaid of the Campbells, confined by a broooh of gold set thick with gems. On his left was his daughter, clad in white, and wearing a satin snood around her golden hair. She, too, wore the tartan of her father's olan, confining it over her left shoulder with a brooch of gold. Her complexion had suffered somewhat from oontaot with the storms and suns of the North, but her eyes glowed with a beautiful and tender light, and her whole appearance spoke of youth, health, intelligence, and animation. Lord Linton, who sat at Sir John's right, glittered like a fallen constellation, so gorgeous was his dress. He was a tall young man of twenty-nine or thirty, in whom the first flush of youth had passed, but who made up for what time had stolen by the arts which his long residence at the court of London had taught him. His complexion was as fair as a woman's, and his dark hair curled and scented with essences. There was a languor in his large brown eyes, and his fingers were long and slender. His slashed doublet and hose of the richest silks and velvets, his baldric Bhining with every precious gem, his cross-handled sword set thick with diamends, his plumed and bejewelled hat, and his velvet mantle richly embroidered; all excited the wonder and contempt of the vassals at the castle, and the undisguised_admiration of all the serving-maids. Next to the three personages at the head of the table sat a dozen or more knights and esquires, kinsmen to Sir John, or followers of his banner, and the gentleman who had accompanied Lord Linton from across the Tweed. Further down were seated his servants and the vassals of Sir John, the latter wearing the Campbell tartans. The feast had been in progress some time when a man-at-arms approached Sir John and told him that a harper at the castle gate craved admission to the hall. " Let him come in," said the knight. And then, turning to Lord Linton, continued: " Perhaps your lordship will find the music of our wandering harpers more agreeable than that of the pipes." And he nodded toward two pipers who had been strutting up and down the hall and " squirling " their bagpipes at intervals during the evening. His lordship declared that he was delighted with the music of the pipers, though in truth he had wished them in the depths of the ocean every time they gave vent to their (to him) discordant sounds. The wandering harper now entered the hall, and, approaching the head of the table, made an obeisance to the company. " By the rood," said Sir John, "you appear to be a stalwart man for a harper, and better fitted to perform deeds of valor than to sing of them." The harper was, in truth, a perfect giant physically, and his features were those of a stern, vindictive and daring man. Though he wore the garb of a minstrel, a suit of armor would have become him better. " And does not the minstrel need strong limbs and a stout heart, Sir Knight ? " replied the stranger. "He has often many a weary journey from castle gate to castle gate, and does not always play before such goodly company as that assembled here." As the minstrel spoke his glance had been ranging over the assembly, and had rested with a look of bold admiration on the fair Margaret. Sir John noticed the look, and somewhat sharply bade the minstrel play. When the minstrel had chanted a rude song of wild deed, to the accompaniment of his harp, and largess had been bestowed on him, he started to leave the hall. " Nay," interposed Sir John, " you will, I hope, accept some refreshment and the shelter 'of my roof for the night." " I must rest and sup this night," replied the minstrel, "with an old, friend of my father's, who lives in a cottage down the valley." So saying he abruptly left the hall. " A most churlish minstrel," said Sir John. " Ho, there, pipers ! Give us the slogan of the Campbells." * * * * * It was morning. Margaret and her father were -walking in a glade of the forest, not far from the castle. " To-morrow," Sir John was saying, " is your wedding day. Ah 1 my daughter, the castle will be lonely indeed when you are gone." " Oh, father I " replied the girl, " why not give up your residence in this gloomy place, where you are subject to constant alarms from the Highland caterans, and come and live with us in the peaceful land of England ? " Margaret's words ended in a faint scream, and she threw her arms around her father. The cause of her alarm was twenty or more wild Highlanders, who suddenly appeared before the knight and his daughter, and advanced toward them with threatening gestures and brandished broad-swords. They were led by a stalwart Highlander, the eagle's feather in whoso bonnet proclaimed him to be a chieftain, and who was at once recognised as the harper of the preceding evening. Sir John placed his daughter behind him, drew his sword, and prepared to make a desperate resistance. He saw at once by the pattern of their plaids that his assailants were of the outlaw clan of McEagh. His resistance, though brave, was futile. In a few moments he was disarmed and securely bound. A Highlander brought up two ponies,- on one of which was placed the knight and on the other his daughter. They then-set out for the interior of the Highlands with their prisoners. They showed them every attention, but kept a sharp watoh on them. The chieftain rode

far in advance, as if avoiding conversation with his prisoners. " Keep a stout heart, Margaret," whispered Sir John to his daughter, as their horses on one oooasion approached near each other, "these outlaws seem disposed to treat uUB kindly. They have probably captured us to obtain a ransom. Even now we must be missed from the castle, and my kinsman and vassals willsoon be in pursuit." Further conversation was interrupted by the Highlander who led Margaret's pony leading the animal in advance of that ridden by the knight. When the light of the sun in the heavens indicated that it was midday, the Highlanders halted on the bank of a little stream in a seoluded mountain gorge. A fire was lighted, pieces of venison were produoed, and the caterans proceeded to prepare their noonday meal. Sir John and his daughter were* seated apart from the rest under the, 'guard of two Highlanders. " Oh, if Lord Linton would only come to our rescue ! " said Margaret. " That gilded popinjay 1 " exclaimed the knight, in a sudden burst of bitterness. "We might stay captives the rest of our lives before he would risk the soiling of his fine clothes in our rescue. Had I for a moment supposed that the son of my old friend could turn out such a lackadaisical creature I would never have betrothed you to him." Margaret was attempting some defence for her betrothed, when the Highland chieftain approached and bowed low to the knight and his daughter. " Sir John Campbell," said the chieftain, " you will pardon the seeming suddenness which has brought you to this fastness, but I am but little used to the milder manner of doing things in the Lowlands. Last night, disguised as a harper, I made my way into your castle. There has long been war between your race and mine. I had intended to remain in the castle, and, when the night was far advanced, to have let in my followers by the postern gate, and worked a bloody revenge for the wrongs committed by the Sons of Dairmid on me and mine. But I found your castle too well guarded, too well garrisoned. I came away, however, a captive myself, for k theie I saw your beauteous daughter, at whese feet I lay my heart." Sir John uttered an angry exclamation and made as if he would lay his hand upon his sword, but his bonds prevented him. " Nay, start not, Sir John," continued the chieftain. " Give your consent to the marriage of your daughter with me and there will be peace between the Sons of Dairmid and the children of the Mist as the Lowlanders call us. You shall return unhurt to your castle and all will be well. Refuse, and — well — the marriage will have to take place without your paternal blessing." " Robber and outlaw 1 " exolaimed the knight, " loose my bonds and I will give you my blessing with this good sword in such a wise that you shall never need another." The chieftain started to reply, when suddenly the mountain gorge was filled with a wild tumultuous shout, and pouring into the narrow pass came half a hundred men, some knights and gentlemen in armor and some vassals wearing the Campbell tartans. The absence of Sir John and his daughter had occasioned alarm at the castle, and a party had been sent out in search of them. They had been tracked to this mountain fastness, the pickets stationed by the' Highlanders had been surprised and overpowered, and now the stillness of the mountains was broken by the fierce noise of conflict. In less time than it takes to tell it, the Highlanders had been either killed or put to flight with the exception of the chieftain. He stood engaged in desperace conflict with a tall and apparently youthful man, clad in a suit of light armor of the finest Milan steel, who had led the rescuing party. The advantage given the young man by his armor was compensated for by the shield of bull's hide, studded with brass, which the chieftain carried on his left arm and used with consummate skill to protect himself from the blows of his adversary. Looking at the gigantic chieftain and the Blender young man who opposed him, it did not seem as if the latter could stand for any length of time the assaults of the Highlander ; but he wielded his sword with such skill that the match was, after all, an equal one. Their blows fell thick and fast. Their swords struck fire. The Highlander's sword clashed now and then on the armor of his adversary, and the sword of the armored man fell occasionally with a thud on the targe of the chieftain. Some of the Campbells had liberated Sir John, and the old soldier, respecting the bravery and skill with which the chieftain fought, forbade any one to interfere, so that now all stood in a ring watching the combat. Finally the man in armor watching his opportunity, gave a skillful twist to his sword, which disarmed his opponent and sent his his sword flying through tlie air. Before the spectators could recover from their surprise, or the young man follow up his advantage, the Highlander sprang through the cirole of spectators and disappeared up the mountain side. The victorious combatant approached Sir John and his daughter, the latter of whom was trembling violently, and holding her hands before her eyesjo^shut out the scene of strife. " Good knight," said Sir John, " you have done us a notable service this day. Lift your visor that we may know the features of him to whom we are so much indebted." Margaret, more composed now that the conflict was over, raised her eyes at her father's word to the barred helmet of her rescuer. The young man bowed and raised his visor. It was Lord Linton 1 The next day Margaret was married with great pomp in the chapel of the castle, and the next she set out with her husband for her English home. Thither two years after her father followed her to spend his declining days. As for the chieftain of the MoEaghs, he was killed in a midnight foray, and died fighting like the desperate man he was.