The chaise had driven off--the pedestrians were already on the high road. Duncan and Roderick, wrapped in their plaids, had seated themselves by the peat-fire in Duncan's roofless dwelling.--The stern composure upon the faces of these two men, lighted by the red glow of the fire, as they sat there in the rapidly darkening twilight, told a tale of the intense excitement of that day, and now of the knawing sorrow, the weight of anxiety that possessed them. Mr. Lumsden stood at the door, his pony's bridle in his hand. "Mind what I have said," he cried, as he left them. "Keep up your hearts and do not despair. You will not need to leave the country--you will find friends--only keep up your hearts and be strong. God will not forsake you." They returned his good-night with deep emotion. This peaceful glen, that yesternight had slept beneath the moonbeams in the placid sleep of righteous and honorable labor--strange policy that could prefer some paltry gain to the continuance of the healthful homejoy of these true children, and heirs of the soil! The two Macalpines sat together in silence, their eyes fixed on the red glow of the fire before them. By-and-by Roderick's gaze wandered--first to the numberless little domestic tokens round, which spoke so pitiful a language--the basket of cakes was still on the table, the "big wheel" at which Jean Macalpine had been spinning so busily on the previous night, stood thrust aside in the corner. His eyes stray further--through the vacant window-frame he saw, upon the other side of the Oran, his own roofless house; he saw the cradle from which his child had been hurriedly snatched, lying broken within; he saw the household seat in which, only some five winters since, he had placed bonnie Jeanie Macalpine, a bride then, the mother of three children now. His hearth was black--his house desolate--Jeanie and her heart failed him: "Oh, man! Duncan!" exclaimed poor Roderick, as he hid his face in his hands in an agony of grief. Big Duncan Macalpine's dark eyes were dilated with the stern and passionate force of his strong resolution; his clear, brave, honest face was turned steadfastly towards the fire. "Roderick," he said, emphatically, "I daurna trust mysel to look about me. Keep your eyes away from the ruined houses--look forward, man. Have I no my ain share? is my house less desolate than yours?"