The hedges were green with verdure, and the sunshine touched with a warmer colour the bog myrtle and flowering blackthorn in which the birds were busy building. It was hard to realize that dangers were spread round them on every side, and that the entire country was up in arms in a quarrel that could have no end, till one of the combatants went down utterly. Even Macpherson, whose feelings were not easily moved, was affected by the brightness of the morning and the beauty of the scene. His emotions took their own method of expression. For a time he had been entirely silent, or replied only in monosyllables, as if engrossed in his own secret meditations, when suddenly he began to sing in loud resonant tones: “The Lord doth reign and clothed is He With majesty most bright.” When he had finished he threw up his beaver with an air of jubilant exultation. “There, young sir, is a song for you to sing when you are merry; that eases the oppressed heart, and runs along the nerves and sinews, strengthening them to acts of endurance and valour. Were I a maker of songs these were the verses I should write--great words wherewith to hammer out a weapon.” “I cannot help thinking,” said Gervase, “of the song poor Ralston was singing as we passed this way, hardly a fortnight ago. We little thought then that you and I should return alone.” “They did their duty,” Macpherson answered, “and died in doing it; brave men want no more. I hope I shall not flinch when my time comes, as come it will, and that shortly. I have gotten the message and it doth not sadden me.” Gervase looked at him inquiringly, but he offered no explanation of his mysterious speech and again relapsed into silence. They continued their journey till noon, when they halted to refresh themselves, Macpherson asserting that if it were not for his great boots he would as readily walk as ride. On resuming their march Gervase insisted on Macpherson taking his turn upon horseback, which the latter did very unwillingly. “One horse to two is out of all reason,” he said. “You are yet too soft for this work and your wilfulness will bring its own punishment.” And Gervase found his words come true. Long after his strength had exhausted itself, he found himself toiling by Macpherson´s side, too proud to own his weakness and determined to keep on till he dropped from sheer fatigue. Macpherson watched him for a while in silence, with the flicker of a grim smile playing about his lips. Then he spoke;