[*] A species of second sight is believed in by the Highlanders, which is supposed to be a forerunner of death. An apparition haunts them, or appears at times, resembling themselves in every respect. The legendary stories of such appearances are innumerable, indeed, over the whole of Scotland. "He tauld his comrades o’ the sicht he had seen upon the muir, and every true Gael believed him, and knew that his hours were numbered then, and that his time amang them would be short. Yet his heart never trembled, and he went forth to battle the next day wi’ a spirit that never flinched, and a hand that never failed, till the death-shot struck him. Sairly his story was jeered by the Lawland loons and men frae south o’ Dunkeld; but next day, at the vera return o’ the hour in whilk the wraith appeared, he was shot dead in the attack upon the British post at Mount Saint Peter, when the Mareschal Saxe was endeavouring to drive Cumberland beyond Maestricht. Ochone! mony a brave and leal Scot’s heart grew cauld that nicht, sirs,—my father’s amang the lave. I rowed him up in his plaid, and buried him wi’ my ain hands, howking his grave at the side o’ the road between Saint Peter’s and the Scheld. The live-lang nicht I wroucht in piling a cairn aboon him, that the feet o’ the stranger micht no tread ower the place o’ his repose. "Now, sirs, that the things I hae tauld unto ye this nicht are true, and a’ happened just as I hae described, I firmly believe; and that some men are doomed to behauld strange sights and unwarldly visions, nae body will deny." "I decidedly do, Dugald," said Cameron; "but your father, Evan of Tor-a-muilt must have been seeing double when he saw the wraith,—no disparagement to him when I say so, for I have heard that he was as brave a man as ever belted on a broad-sword. But rations of Nantz were more plentiful under the Marshal Saxe than with Lord Wellington’s troops, and doubtless Evan Cameron never went on guard without a good allowance." "Deevil a bit, sir," replied the old man testily. "Ye maun ken there was fechtin’ and marchin’ enough and to spare, but neither pay nor plunder could be gottin under King Louis. In the year after the battle o’ Laffeldt, our chief, the gude and the gallant Lochiel, died o’ a broken heart, I’m free to say, for the thocht o’ being an exile for life weighed heavy on his soul. Sair I sorrowed for him, and so did a’ the Royal Scots regiment, for there wasna ane that wadna hae laid doon his life for Lochiel. After seeing him laid in a foreign grave, I cam awa’ cannily hame, to live amang my ain folk by bonnie Loch-Archaig, when the dool and dirdum o’ the ’forty-five’ was a’ passed awa’ and blawn ower." *CHAPTER VI.* *A BATTLE.* "Let blusterin’ Suchet crously crack, Let Joseph rin the coward’s track, Let Jourdan wish the bâton back He left upon _Vittoria_.