"The clachan is but little changed. Mr Steve did not tear down the village and church, as he first threatened. No, the clachan is the same, but poor Mr Grant has gone." "Dead! You did not tell me this in your letter." "No, no, not dead. He has got a better living in the city." "Yes?" "Yes, and I went to see them. The Misses Grant keep every letter ever you wrote them, and they do long, I can tell you, for the return of the wanderer." "Bless their dear hearts!" "I went over to the wee village by the sea and saw Duncan Reed." "Is he changed?" "Not in the very least. Looks hardier than ever." "And your father and mother you have already said are well?" "Yes, but father doesn't like town life. How he would love the old days to come back again; how he would love to rove once again over the hills gun on shoulder and dog at his heel!" "He is not very old; he may yet have his wish." "I fear not." "Well?" "Well, the glens and hills all around are planted with trees. This was done as soon as Mr Steve took possession of the estate, and before poor old Chief McGregor died." "He is dead, then?" "Yes. I would have told you, but I wanted to make my letters to you as bright as possible." "So the dear old man is dead. Heigho! And the estate planted. You did not even tell me that." "No, and for the same reason. But the trees are getting quite tall already. Most of the higher parts of the glens are covered with Scotch firs and spruces and larches, the lower lands with elm and plane and scrubby oaks. At the risk of being taken as a trespasser, I went all over the estate. I penetrated up to the fairy knoll and saw poor Kooran's grave. There are young trees all round there now." "Archie," said Kenneth, leaning forward and peering into his companion's face, "I hope they didn't interfere with poor Kooran's grave." "No, nor with anything around it." "Go on, lad; I'm so pleased." "Well, I've little more to say. I was not taken prisoner, though I startled the wild deer in all directions." "But the grand old hills themselves?" "Nay, they are not planted. Green in summer and purple and crimson in autumn, there they are the same, and ever will remain." There was a pause. Then Kenneth spoke once again. "Did you ever see Miss Gale since?" "Only once," replied Archie, "and Miss Redmond--Jessie--she has grown tall, and oh! Kenneth, so beautiful, but still so child-like and graceful." "I can easily believe that, boy. And did she--" "Yes, dear lad," said Archie. "She did ask all about you, so kindly. And I gave her your last letter to read. And--" "And she read it, Archie? Tell me, did she read it?" "Yes, she read it over and over again." "Now, I'll tell you my own adventures." "Begin at the beginning, won't you? The very beginning, from the day you and I parted." "I will." But what Kenneth said deserves a chapter to its own account. CHAPTER TWELVE. KENNETH AND ARCHIE.