"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 passing 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.