Beyond the advanced chain of the latter, Ronald wandered far in search of Macdonald, and to await his return seated himself upon a fragment of rock, and watched attentively the long valley which lay between him and the Lower or French Pyrenees, varying this employment, by holloaing to the eagles as he used to do at home, or by hurling stones at the glossy black ravens as they screamed aloud, flapped their wings, and from the rocks of the surrounding wilderness stared at him as an intruder upon their solitude. The voice of some one singing a Gaelic song,— "_Cha teid mis a chaoidh_,"[*] caused him to spring to his feet. [*] I will never go with him. "Holloa, Alister! Is that you, my man?" "Yes," replied Macdonald, springing up the rocks to where Ronald sat, and leaping to his side with the activity of a deer; "but you nearly made an end of me a dozen times. Every minute you sent a large rock sousing down the ravine upon my very path. Did you not hear me shout? Why, man, you have but half the ear of a Highland forester! I hope I am in time for the marquess’s arrival?" "Yes; but what a devilish long time you have been! Madame the baroness and her squire were certainly in no hurry to reach the rock of Maya." "Why no; to tell you the truth," replied Macdonald, laughing as heartily as his lack of breath would permit him, "we consulted our own convenience and pleasure, and it has been the most agreeable night, or rather morning, march since I first saw the spires of Lisbon." "So I suppose. But did you escape the French sentries?" "How would I have been here else, Ronald? They are posted at the foot of the rock of Maya, and must have been blind, if they did not see me. I led the young lady within a hundred yards of them, and there bade her tenderly adieu." "She thanked you, of course?" "By so delightful a salute, that I began to persuade her to return with me; but she placed her little hand upon my mouth, and, as the novels say, vanished from my sight,—in other words crossed the enemy’s lines: so now, I suppose, she is in the arms of monsieur the baron, or as he would be more appropriately styled, Jock Law, laird of the Clapperknowes. What a pity ’tis that so sweet a girl should be the wife of that gruff old humbug! Hah! there go the pipes!" "Wellington has come!" The out-picquets rejoined their several brigades, which in a few minutes were in motion, and marched from Elizondo with their bands playing, and entered among the mountains towards that part of Maya where General Gazan’s corps were in position. In the forenoon they came in sight of the enemy, when Sir Rowland Hill halted, and Wellington, attended by a single aide-de-camp, rode forward to reconnoitre. Ronald Stuart had now for the first time an opportunity of particularly observing that great leader, of whom the world then heard, and were yet to hear, so much.