"It--er--harmonises, as it were, with the natural surroundings: with the loch, the glen, the strath. So with those curious tartans to which the Scottish highlanders are--er--addicted. Seen by themselves, and to a sensitive, artistic eye, they appear crude and almost violent in their contrast of colours; but seen in conjunction with the expanse of native moorland, the undulating stretches of the heather----" "'Tis but niggling scenery we have in these parts, to be sure," agreed Archelaus. "I have sometimes thought that _mutatis mutandis_ the same may be true of the bagpipes, the strains of which--'skirl,' I believe, is the proper expression--are not altogether discordant with the moaning of the wind over those desolate moors or the cries uttered by their wilder denizens; though, speaking personally, I never could endure the instrument." "Me either," agreed Archelaus again, shuffling a little on his feet, as the dreadful truth began to dawn on him, that the Lord Proprietor meant to present him with yet another pair of trousers. Sir Caesar, however, chose to play for a minute with his benevolent design. "There is no more delicate study," he went on, "than that of acclimatisation. None which requires a nicer union of artistic daring with artistic judgment, patience, with decision.... I propose to go in for it pretty extensively on Inniscaw." "Yes, sir?" "The ostriches have been a great encouragement." "I suppose, now, when you get accustomed to 'em----" "Though I have yet to prove that they will breed here. Yet, why not? The Gulf Stream, I am assured, has a stimulating influence upon all forms of organic life, animal as well as vegetable. It may be compared with that inward volcanic heat which, in and around the Bay of Naples, clothes the shore with verdure, and is not without responsibility for the passions of the inhabitants.... But, as I was saying, a man must use judgment. A plant may thrive when transferred across a thousand miles of ocean, may propagate itself even more freely than in its native habitat, and yet, to the artistic eye, be never truly at home. Its colour, of flower or foliage, refuses to blend with our landscape, to adapt itself to our Atlantic skies. It is my hobby, Sergeant, to discover not only what imported plants will flourish with our soil and climate, but what particular one is worthiest of cultivation; and, having discovered that, I propose to bend all my best energies upon it.... Eh? But where did you get those remarkably fine bulbs?" Archelaus held out three in the palm of his hand. "From the garrison garden, sir; with the Governor's compliments, and understanding you to take an interest in bulbs." "Daffodils? Some species of narcissus, at any rate." The Lord Proprietor took one of the bulbs and examined it, turning it over. "I had no idea that Major Vigoureux--er--went in for this sort of thing, or I'd have done myself the pleasure of visiting his garden."