"But by the laws of this country entailed estates cannot be sold and the entail thus broken, unless it can be proved that no other male heir lives. Thus in point of fact, at all events, were the lands and estates of Alva left by will to the McGregors and their lineal descendants." "See, stranger," said Steve, "I'm not going to debate here all night on matters of law. Law is a dry subject at best. I bought Alva, there was _no_ other male heir to McGregor, and his only son was drowned at sea." "His only son now stands before you!" "Then the father--" "Stay," cried young McGregor, "tempt me not to do that I should be sorry for. I came but to inform you I would make every attempt to win back my own. I have now to say good-night." "I thank you," sneered Steve, "for your courtesy; but do--_not_--fear-- you. Good-night." CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. THE WANDERER'S RETURN. "Dear land of my birth, far from thee have I been, By streamlets so flowery and valleys so green, In vain seeking fortune; but still as of yore The home of my heart is the Vale of Strathmore." Old Scottish Song. Scene: Sunset on the sea. So close to the ocean is the old castle built that, looking from the window which almost overhangs it, nothing else can be seen but the golden-tipped waves, golden-tipped even to the far-off horizon, and breaking with pleasing murmur on the beach beneath. The mountains that rise inland from the castle are either wholly green, or patched with purple heather. In a room overlooking the sea, in high-backed cushioned chair, sits a lady,--but little past the prime of life, perhaps, though her hair is like the snow. Her face is very pleasant to behold, so calm and resigned is it. Near her on a stool a maid is reading to her. "I think now, Mary," said the lady at last, "it is time to order tea." Mary, a modest, wee Highland maiden, rose, and quietly retired. As she opened the door a great black-as-jet Newfoundland came bounding in, all white teeth and eager eyes. He went straight away, and placed his head on his mistress's lap, and was gently caressed. "Where have you been, Bran?" she said. "Not in the sea at this time of night? But you do go in sometimes later, you know, and then hie away to the kitchen, sly dog, to get your coat dried before you come to see me." Mary tapped at the door and entered. Her face was bright with pleasure. "Oh! Mrs McGregor," she said, "Mr Smith has come by steamer from Oban!" Mrs McGregor's face assumed an expression of great seriousness. "Oh!" she cried, "I trust it is no bad news he brings about my brother." "No, no," the girl hastened to say; "he bade me tell you it was all a visit of pleasure. I showed him to the old room, and he will be here in a few minutes."