"I would do what a man might do, and still call himself a man."
"Do you call yourself a man," said the interrogator, "who have

done the deeds of a wolf?"
"I do," answered the outlaw; "I am a man like my forefathers--

while wrapt in the mantle of peace, we were lambs--it was rent
from us, and ye now call us wolves. Give us the huts ye have

burned, our children whom ye have murdered, our widows whom ye
have starved--collect from the gibbet and the pole the mangled

carcasses, and whitened skulls of our kinsmen--bid them live and
bless us, and we will be your vassals and brothers--till then,

let death, and blood, and mutual wrong, draw a dark veil of
division between us."

"You will then do nothing for your liberty," said the Campbell.
"Anything--but call myself the friend of your tribe," answered

MacEagh.
"We scorn the friendship of banditti and caterans," retorted

Murdoch, "and would not stoop to accept it.--What I demand to
know from you, in exchange for your liberty, is, where the

daughter and heiress of the Knight of Ardenvohr is now to be
found?"

"That you may wed her to some beggarly kinsman of your great
master," said Ranald, "after the fashion of the Children of

Diarmid! Does not the valley of Glenorquhy, to this very hour,
cry shame on the violence offered to a helplessinfant whom her

kinsmen were conveying to the court of the Sovereign? Were not
her escort compelled to hide her beneath a cauldron, round which

they fought till not one remained to tell the tale? and was not
the girl brought to this fatal castle, and afterwards wedded to

the brother of M'Callum More, and all for the sake of her broad
lands?" [Such a story is told of the heiress of the clan of

Calder, who was made prisoner in the manner described, and
afterwards wedded to Sir Duncan Campbell, from which union the

Campbells of Cawdor have their descent.]
"And if the tale be true," said Murdoch, "she had a preferment

beyond what the King of Scots would have conferred on her. But
this is far from the purpose. The daughter of Sir Duncan of

Ardenvohr is of our own blood, not a stranger; and who has so
good a right to know her fate as M'Callum More, the chief of her

clan?"
"It is on his part, then, that you demand it!" said the outlaw.

The domestic of the Marquis assented.
"And you will practise no evil against the maiden?--I have done

her wrong enough already."
"No evil, upon the word of a Christian man," replied Murdoch.

"And my guerdon is to be life and liberty?" said the Child of
the Mist.

"Such is our paction," replied the Campbell.
"Then know, that the child whom I saved our of compassion at the

spoiling of her father's tower of strength, was bred as an
adopted daughter of our tribe, until we were worsted at the pass

of Ballenduthil, by the fiend incarnate and mortal enemy of our
tribe, Allan M'Aulay of the Bloody hand, and by the horsemen of

Lennox, under the heir of Menteith."
"Fell she into the power of Allan of the Bloody hand," said

Murdoch, "and she a reputed daughter of thy tribe? Then her
blood has gilded the dirk, and thou hast said nothing to rescue

thine own forfeited life."
"If my life rest on hers," answered the outlaw, "it is secure,

for she still survives; but it has a more insecure reliance--the
frail promise of a son of Diarmid."

"That promise shall not fail you," said the Campbell, "if you can
assure me that she survives, and where she is to be found."

"In the Castle of Darlinvarach," said Ranald MacEagh, "under the
name of Annot Lyle. I have often heard of her from my kinsmen,

who have again approached their native woods, and it is not long
since mine old eyes beheld her."

"You!" said Murdoch, in astonishment, "you, a chief among the
Children of the Mist, and ventured so near your mortal foe?"

"Son of Diarmid, I did more," replied the outlaw; "I was in the
hall of the castle, disguised as a harper from the wild shores of

Skianach. My purpose was to have plunged my dirk in the body of
the M'Aulay with the Bloody hand, before whom our race trembles,

and to have taken thereafter what fate God should send me. But I
saw Annot Lyle, even when my hand was on the hilt of my dagger.

She touched her clairshach [Harp] to a song of the Children of
the Mist, which she had learned when her dwelling was amongst us.

The woods in which we had dwelt pleasantly, rustled their green
leaves in the song, and our streams were there with the sound of

all their waters. My hand forsook the dagger; the fountains of
mine eyes were opened, and the hour of revenge passed away.--And

now, Son of Diarmid, have I not paid the ransom of my head?"
"Ay," replied Murdoch, "if your tale be true; but what proof can

you assign for it?"
"Bear witness, heaven and earth," exclaimed the outlaw, "he

already looks how he may step over his word!"
"Not so," replied Murdoch; "every promise shall be kept to you

when I am assured you have told me the truth.--But I must speak a
few words with your companion in captivity."

"Fair and false--ever fair and false," muttered the prisoner, as
he threw himself once more on the floor of his dungeon.

Meanwhile, Captain Dalgetty, who had attended to every word of
this dialogue, was making his own remarks on it in private.

"What the HENKER can this sly fellow have to say to me? I have
no child, either of my own, so far as I know, or of any other

person, to tell him a tale about. But let him come on--he will
have some manoeuvring ere he turn the flank of the old soldier."

Accordingly, as if he had stood pike in hand to defend a breach,
he waited with caution, but without fear, the commencement of the

attack.
"You are a citizen of the world, Captain Dalgetty," said Murdoch

Campbell, "and cannot be ignorant of our old Scotch proverb, GIF-
GAF, [In old English, KA ME KA THEE, i.e. mutually serving each

other.] which goes through all nations and all services."
"Then I should know something of it," said Dalgetty; "for, except

the Turks, there are few powers in Europe whom I have not served;
and I have sometimes thought of taking a turn either with Bethlem

Gabor, or with the Janizaries."
"A man of your experience and unprejudiced ideas, then, will

understand me at once," said Murdoch, "when I say, I mean that
your freedom shall depend on your true and up right answer to a

few trifling questions respecting the gentlemen you have left;
their state of preparation; the number of their men, and nature

of their appointments; and as much as you chance to know about
their plan of operations."

"Just to satisfy your curiosity," said Dalgetty, "and without any
farther purpose?"

"None in the world," replied Murdoch; "what interest should a
poor devil like me take in their operations?"

"Make your interrogations, then," said the Captain, "and I will
answer them PREREMTORIE."

"How many Irish may be on their march to join James Graham the
delinquent?"

"Probably ten thousand," said Captain Dalgetty.
"Ten thousand!" replied Murdoch angrily; "we know that scarce two

thousand landed at Ardnamurchan."
"Then you know more about them than I do," answered Captain