THE CAMERONIANS. A Novel. BY JAMES GRANT, AUTHOR OF 'THE ROMANCE OF WAR,' 'OLD AND NEW EDINBURGH, ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen. 1881. [_All Rights Reserved._] CONTENTS OF VOL. III. CHAPTER I. NEWS AT LAST! II. THE COINCIDENCE III. EAGLESCRAIG ONCE MORE IV. THE DIVIDED PAIR V. A STRANGE ACCUSATION VI. A FATAL PROOF FOUND VII. CECIL'S VISITOR VIII. BAFFLED! IX. CROSS PURPOSES X. THE TELEGRAM XI. A DARK PREDICTION XII. THE RECONNAISSANCE XIII. THE WAYSIDE CHAPEL XIV. THE BATTLE OF ZAITCHAR XV. A RIDE FOR LIFE OR DEATH! XVI. WHAT THE 'TIMES' TOLD XVII. MARY'S LETTER XVIII. THE HEIGHTS OF DJUNIS XIX. WOUNDED XX. SAVED! XXI. 'THE END CROWNS ALL' THE CAMERONIANS. CHAPTER I. NEWS AT LAST! From such terrible episodes and scenes as those that close our last chapter, and from such a land of wild barbarity, we gladly turn homewards for a time. It was summer; and the season had scattered its roses and their leaves lavishly over the old Scoto-French garden of Eaglescraig, for such it was, with its closely-clipped privet hedges, its long grass walks, balustraded terraces, mossy sundials, and parterres, where deep box-edging was alternated by flower borders running along the paths, and where wall-flowers, sweet-williams, and tiger lilies, with moss and Provence roses, were varied by espaliers that in the coming time would be laden with fruit. The summer was in its glory, but there was not much brightness within the house of Eaglescraig. So Cecil, who had latterly met with such scanty kindness from Sir Piers, was actually his grandson, and the honours of the old line were perhaps neither to die out, or pass to a far-away branch, after all! John Balderstone had proved all this, and great were the content and glee thereat among the old visitors of the mansion; there being no regrets for Hew being 'scratched,' as he called it, 'and out of the running now,' for his general bearing had rendered him obnoxious to every one. 'So the whirligig of time brings about its revenge,' said old Tunley, the butler; 'pride always goes before a fall.' 'Yes!' coincided John Balderstone, with an angry smirk on his face; 'now, Master Hew may go to Hecklebirnie!' 'Where is that?' 'Three miles beyond--well, a very warm place, as our Scots proverb has it,' added the factor, as he drained a stiff jorum in Mr. Tunley's pantry. Mrs. Garth rejoiced openly at the change that had come to pass. 'It would have been unnatural indeed,' she said, 'that a girl so sweet and sensitive as Mary should have been mated to Hew, whose actions, nature, and habits would have jarred on her softer nature perpetually.'