O the Hielan’s, the Hielan’s, praise God for His favour, That ane sae unworthy should heir sic estate, That gi’ed me the zest o the sword, and the savour That lies in the loving as well as the hate. Auld age may subdue me, a grim death be due me, For even a Sergeant o’ Pikes maun depart, But I’ll never complain o’t, whatever the pain o’t, The Hielan’s, the Hielan’s were aye at my heart! We closed in our night’s diversion with the exercise of prayer, wherein two clerics led our devotion, one Master Mungo Law, a Lowlander, and the other his lordship’s chaplain--Master Alexander Gordon, who had come on this expedition with some fire of war in his face, and never so much as a stiletto at his waist. They prayed a trifle long and drearily the pair of them, and both in the English that most of our clansmen but indifferently understood. They prayed as prayed David, that the counsel of Ahithophel might be turned to foolishness; and “Lo,” they said, “be strong and courageous; fear not, neither be afraid of the King of Ashur, neither for all the multitude that is with him; for there be more with us than with him,” and John Splendid turned to me at this with a dry laugh. “Colin, my dear,” said he, “thus the hawk upon the mountain-side, and the death of the winged eagle to work up a valour for! ‘There be more with us than with him.’ I never heard it so bluntly put before. But perhaps Heaven will forgive us the sin of our caution, seeing that half our superior number are but Lowland levies.” And all night long deer belled to deer on the braes of Glen Noe. CHAPTER XVII.--IN THE LAND OF LORN.