So MacAleister wrapped his plaid about the child, who screamed with terror on seeing the Highlanders; for it was a common belief then in England, and for long after, that they were wont to eat children, like the ogres of the fairy tales. Rob next ordered the cannon to be spiked and the barracks to be set on fire. "Alpine, strike up the _Brattach Ghael_!" said he to the piper, who at once began the "White Banner," a famous pibroch of the Jacobite clans. "By the deed of to-night I shall teach these robber Whigs and truckling Lowlanders to consider well ere again they build a fort on our land; this will be the worst twist in their cow's-horn!" Rob now gave orders to retire, with the wounded slung in plaids over the shoulders of their comrades, who applied handfuls of nettles to stop the bleeding of cuts and stabs; and the retreating MacGregors saw the flames of the burning barrack and fort rising like a pyramid of fire above the walls, as the daylight stole down the vast steeps of Ben Lomond into its solemn glens and rocky corries. The blaze was yet shining across the grey morning sky, when they retreated to their fastnesses at the head of Loch Katrine, by the wild way of Loch Arclet, whither MacGregor believed the bravest men in the castles of Stirling or Dumbarton dared not follow him! CHAPTER XXX. THE FIGHT AT ABERFOYLE. The little boy found at Inversnaid was kindly and tenderly received by Helen MacGregor, who made him share the heather-couch of her youngest son, Duncan, a hardy little Highland colt, who was about the same age as the yellow-haired Saxon. The arrival of the latter created great speculation in the small clachan or farm-town of Portnellan; but the poor boy, accustomed to other sights and sounds than those around him now, was scared and terrified by the aspect of the Highlanders, and mourned for his father and for the soldiers among whom he had been reared, and clung to the skirts of Helen MacGregor as his only protectress. However, as children so young have but shallow griefs and short memories, a few days found him quite reconciled to his fortune, to little Duncan as a bedfellow and playmate; and he learned to sup his porridge with a horn spoon from a large wooden trencher, and to make a companion of the stag-hounds, collies, and otter-terriers, that shared the fireside and sitting-room of the family of Portnellan. "Alas!" said Helen, one evening, as she sat with the little stranger on her knee; "this fair boy is too sweet, too good and beautiful to find a proper place on earth." "How--what mean ye, goodwife?" asked Rob, with displeasure. "Such children never live to comb grey hairs." "Say not so, Helen," said Rob, impressed by her manner. "I would the youngling was with his own people. I judge of their sufferings by what I myself have suffered," said Helen, with a sigh.