And now once again the Black Watch were going to the land of the sun and the desert, where Abercrombie received his death-wound while calling to them in the charge, 'My brave Highlanders, remember your country--remember your forefathers!' And these glories, with all 'the stirring memories of a thousand years,' were not forgotten on that day in the August of 1882 when, under the scion of a gallant house, Cluny the younger, the regiment received its orders of readiness and began to prepare for its departure from the Castle of Edinburgh, while a mighty throb seemed to pervade the heart of the city as its hour of departure approached. All in its ranks, of course, had friends whom they sorrowed to leave--all save poor Evan Cameron; and all were impatient and full of ardour to join in the coming strife; but none, perhaps, were more impatient than he, for he had to seek forgetfulness--oblivion from his own thoughts--a refuge from his futile regrets--among other scenes for the lost love of one who could never be more to him than a tender memory now. CHAPTER XVI. IN THE BELVIDERE. Shakespeare tells us that men have died and worms have eaten them, but not for love. So Evan Cameron did not die, nor had he any thoughts of dying; but it seemed to his young and enthusiastic heart just then that all which made life worth living for, and all its fulness, splendour, and joy, were over and done with for him. Of the movements of the Aberfeldie family he knew nothing at that time. Allan was again on leave, and was to join the regiment on the day of its embarkation in England. Evan had a longing to see the place where he had last seen Eveline, as her lover, at Maviswood. Memories of the past days at Dundargue came vividly upon him now--of the times when they had wandered in the leafy woods near the old castle, talking sweet nonsense, with happy hearts and laughter that came so readily; when eye spoke to eye and hand thrilled when it touched hand with lingering pressure, and glances were exchanged that, if they meant anything, meant love. Lord Aberfeldie had been ever kind to him, and a friend of his father; he thought he would like to press the good peer's hand once more before he departed, for the regiment was going far away, to a land from whence he might never return; so, as Evan was an impulsive young fellow, he repaired at once to Maviswood. He found Mr. Tappleton, the old family butler, airing his figure at the front door when he approached. Lord Aberfeldie, he was informed, was in London--his lordship was residing with Miss Raymond at Southsea, and Sir Paget was not at home. 'Sir Paget--is he living here?' asked Cameron, with a start. 'Yes, sir, for a few days.' 'And Lady--Lady----' He paused, unable to pronounce the name. 'Is also here,' replied Mr. Tappleton, knowing instantly who he meant; 'but she is out somewhere walking in the grounds.'