"True, Helen," said Rob Roy, sternly, as he sat at the table oiling the locks of his pistols; "but little cared they for our heartaches when Ronald was their prisoner--fettered like a felon in the port of Inversnaid, because he fished on the patrimony of his father, and scorned to betray him for gold!" "To seek the major at Dumbarton----" "To seek Major Huske anywhere would be to seek death, even for him who took the child to him. A dab MacAleister gave him with his dirk is not likely to have improved the major's temper; so let us bide our time, Helen. Our Highland air but ill suits Saxon lungs, yet the blue-eyed boy thrives bravely, and our little Duncan loves him well. They share their bannocks and cheese, their brochan and brose, like sons of the same mother." "Yet I would the child were with his," said Helen, earnestly. "She is, I hope, in heaven," said Rob, looking upward. "Dead!" exclaimed Helen; "mean you that she is dead?" "Ay, Helen, even so. She was killed by a cannon-ball at the siege of Landau, in the Lowlands of Holland; and the poor child, then at her breast, was covered with her blood. Thus, poor Oina, who heard a soldier say so, told me." Helen's eyes filled with tears, as she kissed and caressed the motherless boy, who, while creeping close to her, always viewed her husband's red flowing beard, glaring tartans, and glittering weapons (which he could scarcely lay aside for a moment, even by his own hearthstone) with an undisguised fear and mistrust that frequently made Rob and his henchman laugh heartily. Helen dressed little Harry Huske in a home-made kilt and short coat, which she adorned with buttons formed of those remarkable pebbles which are found on the isle of Iona. Her own hardy boys never wore shoes except in winter, and then she fashioned for them soft warm _cuarans_ of the red-deer's hide, to protect their feet from the snow; but to little Harry, having been more gently nurtured, she gave every luxury their circumstances would admit, and nightly she sang him to sleep with her harp, and the plaintive old song of MacGregor na Ruara. Assisted and protected by Sir Humphry Colquhoun, James Grant of Pluscardine, and others, Major Huske, though severely wounded, with all his half-disarmed fugitives, reached the castle of Dumbarton, which is more than twenty miles from Inversnaid, and from thence in a few days, by order of Lieutenant-General Carpenter, commander-in-chief in Scotland, a company of grenadiers, and three of the line, were ordered to penetrate into the district of the MacGregors, to punish them, and, if possible, to capture Rob Roy.