When dinner was removed, and the servants had withdrawn, excepting the Laird’s page, or henchman, who remained in the apartment to call for or bring whatever was wanted, or, in a word, to answer the purposes of a modern bell-wire, the conversation began to turn upon politics, and the state of the country; and Lord Menteith enquired anxiously and particularly what clans were expected to join the proposed muster of the King’s friends. “That depends much, my lord, on the person who lifts the banner,” said the Laird; “for you know we Highlanders, when a few clans are assembled, are not easily commanded by one of our own Chiefs, or, to say the truth, by any other body. We have heard a rumour, indeed, that Colkitto--that is, young Colkitto, or Alaster M’Donald, is come over the Kyle from Ireland, with a body of the Earl of Antrim’s people, and that they had got as far as Ardnamurchan. They might have been here before now, but, I suppose, they loitered to plunder the country as they came along.” “Will Colkitto not serve you for a leader, then?” said Lord Menteith. “Colkitto?” said Allan M’Aulay, scornfully; “who talks of Colkitto?--There lives but one man whom we will follow, and that is Montrose.” “But Montrose, sir,” said Sir Christopher Hall, “has not been heard of since our ineffectual attempt to rise in the north of England. It is thought he has returned to the King at Oxford for farther instructions.” “Returned!” said Allan, with a scornful laugh; “I could tell ye, but it is not worth my while; ye will know soon enough.” “By my honour, Allan,” said Lord Menteith, “you will weary out your friends with this intolerable, froward, and sullen humour--But I know the reason,” added he, laughing; “you have not seen Annot Lyle to-day.” “Whom did you say I had not seen?” said Allan, sternly. “Annot Lyle, the fairy queen of song and minstrelsy,” said Lord Menteith. “Would to God I were never to see her again,” said Allan, sighing, “On condition the same weird were laid on you!” “And why on me?” said Lord Menteith, carelessly. “Because,” said Allan, “it is written on your forehead, that you are to be the ruin of each other.” So saying, he rose up and left the room. “Has he been long in this way?” asked Lord Menteith, addressing his brother. “About three days,” answered Angus; “the fit is wellnigh over, he will be better to-morrow.--But come, gentlemen, don’t let the tappit-hen scraugh to be emptied. The King’s health, King Charles’s health! and may the covenanting dog that refuses it, go to Heaven by the road of the Grassmarket!” The health was quickly pledged, and as fast succeeded by another, and another, and another, all of a party cast, and enforced in an earnest manner. Captain Dalgetty, however, thought it necessary to enter a protest.