  Dominie.—’Pon my word, Mr. Clifford, you have given us good measure indeed; and of ane excellent faybric, too. As I shall answer, we are well on with the small hours. Grant (pulling out his watch)—Is it possible? I declare I thought that it had been only about ten o’clock. Why, it is a good hour and a half after midnight. Clifford.—I was resolved to reel you out a good long line while I was about it. I thought that it was but fair to give Mr. Macpherson an opportunity of being even with me, by enjoying as good a slumber as I had last night, but his politeness was proof against the soporific influence of my tale. Dominie.—Your tale would have been as good as an umberella against all the drowsy drops that ever were shaken from the bough of Morpheus himself. Author.—Perhaps it might; but now that the umbrella is taken down, the dewy balm of the god begins to descend very heavily upon my eyelids. Grant.—Come, then, let us to bed. The next morning’s sun found us all later in bed than usual. After breakfast we left the village, and winding down through the forest of tall pines that lies between it and the river, and crossing the ancient bridge, we left the Spey behind us, and climbed the old military mountain road that leads towards Tomantoul. Clifford (stopping and looking back over the valley)—What a grand Highland prospect! Grant.—How proudly the grim old castle domineers over the extended forests, and the country of which it is the lord paramount! Let us sit down on this green bank of velvet grass, and enjoy the view. See how happily that single touch of bright light falls on the Cumin’s tower. Clifford.—Well thought off. Talking of the Cumins, we must not allow you to leave us, Mr. Macpherson, Dominie.—I must tell it to you now then, gentlemen; for I grieve to say that I must part from you at the top of the hill a little way farther on. So, if you have a mind to sit down and enjoy this refreshing breeze for a little time, I shall give you the legend in as few words as I can. |
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