it must be grand."
"So it is, so it is!" cried the engineer, "and our dear Nell

shall see it to the best advantage."
A steamboat, the SINCLAIR by name, awaited tourists about to make

the excursion to the lakes. Nell and her companions went on board.
The day had begun in brilliantsunshine, free from the British fogs

which so often veil the skies.
The passengers were determined to lose none of the beauties of nature

to be displayed during the thirty miles' voyage. Nell, seated between
James Starr and Harry, drank in with every faculty the magnificent poetry

with which lovely Scottish scenery is fraught. Numerous small isles and
islets soon appeared, as though thickly sown on the bosom of the lake.

The SINCLAIR steamed her way among
371

them, while between them glimpses could be had of quiet valleys,
or wild rocky gorges on the mainland.

"Nell," said James Starr, "every island here has its legend,
perhaps its song, as well as the mountains which overshadow the lake.

One may, without much exaggeration, say that the history of this
country is written in giganticcharacters of mountains and islands."

Nell listened, but these fighting stories made her sad.
Why all that bloodshed on plains which to her seemed enormous,

and where surely there must have been room for everybody?
The shores of the lake form a little harbor at Luss. Nell could

for a moment catch sight of the old tower of its ancient castle.
Then, the SINCLAIR turning northward, the tourists gazed upon Ben Lomond,

towering nearly 3,000 feet above the level of the lake.
"Oh, what a noble mountain!" cried Nell; "what a view there must

be from the top!"
"Yes, Nell," answered James Starr; "see how haughtily its peak

rises from amidst the thicket of oaks, birches, and heather,
which clothe the lower portion of the mountain! From thence one

may see two-thirds of old Caledonia. This eastern side of the lake
was the special abode of the clan McGregor. At no great distance,

the struggles of the Jacobites and Hanoverians repeatedly
dyed with blood these lonely glens. Over these scenes shines

the pale moon, called in old ballads 'Macfarlane's lantern.'
Among these rocks still echo the immortal names of Rob Roy

and McGregor Campbell."
As the SINCLAIR advanced along the base of the mountain,

the country became more and more abrupt in character.
Trees were only scattered here and there; among them were the willows,

slender wands of which were formerly used for hanging persons
of low degree.

"To economize hemp," remarked James Starr.
The lake narrowed very much as it stretched northwards.

The steamer passed a few more islets, Inveruglas, Eilad-whow, where stand
some ruins of a stronghold of the clan MacFarlane. At length the head

of the loch was reached, and the SINCLAIR stopped at Inversnaid.
Leaving Loch Arklet on the left, a steep ascent led to the Inn

of Stronachlacar, on the banks of Loch Katrine.
There, at the end of a light pier, floated a small steamboat,

named, as a matter of course, the Rob Roy. The travelers
immediately went on board; it was about to start. Loch Katrine

is only ten miles in length; its width never exceeds two miles.
The hills nearest it are full of a characterpeculiar to themselves.

"Here we are on this famous lake," said James Starr. "It has
been compared to an eel on account of its length and windings:

and justly so. They say that it never freezes.
I know nothing about that, but what we want to think of is,

that here are the scenes of the adventures in the Lady of
the Lake. I believe, if friend Jack looked about him carefully,

he might see, still gliding over the surface of the water,
the shade of the slender form of sweet Ellen Douglas."

"To be sure, Mr. Starr," replied Jack; "why should I not?
I may just as well see that pretty girl on the waters of Loch Katrine,

as those ugly ghosts on Loch Malcolm in the coal pit."
It was by this time three o'clock in the afternoon. The less hilly

shores of Loch Katrine westwardextended like a picture framed between
Ben An and Ben Venue. At the distance of half a mile was the entrance

to the narrow bay, where was the landing-place for our tourists,
who meant to return to Stirling by Callander.

Nell appeared completely worn out by the continued excitement of the day.
A faint ejaculation was all she was able to utter in token

of admiration as new objects of wonder or beauty met her gaze.
She required some hours of rest, were it but to impress lastingly

the recollection of all she had seen.
Her hand rested in Harry's, and, looking earnestly at her, he said,

"Nell, dear Nell, we shall soon be home again in the gloomy region
of the coal mine. Shall you not pine for what you have seen during

these few hours spent in the glorious light of day?"
"No, Harry," replied the girl; "I shall like to think about it,

but I am glad to go back with you to our dear old home."
"Nell!" said Harry, vainly attempting to steady his voice,

"are you willing to be bound to me by the most sacred tie?
Could you marry me, Nell?"

"Yes, Harry, I could, if you are sure that I am able to make you happy,"
answered the maiden, raising her innocent eyes to his.

Scarcely had she pronounced these words when an unaccountable
phenomenon took place. The Rob Roy, still half a mile

from land, experienced a violent shock. She suddenly grounded.
No efforts of the engine could move her.

The cause of this accident was simply that Loch Katrine was all at
once emptied, as though an enormousfissure had opened in its bed.

In a few seconds it had the appearance of a sea beach at low water.
Nearly the whole of its contents had vanished into the bosom

of the earth.
"My friends!" exclaimed James Starr, as the cause of this marvel

became suddenly clear to him, "God help New Aberfoyle!"
CHAPTER XVI A FINAL THREAT

ON that day, in the colliery of New Aberfoyle, work was going on in
the usual regular way. In the distance could be heard the crash of great

charges of dynamite, by which the carboniferous rocks were blasted.
Here masses of coal were loosened by pick-ax and crowbar;

there the perforating machines, with their harsh grating,
bored through the masses of sandstone and schist.

Hollow, cavernous noises resounded on all sides.
Draughts of air rushed along the ventilating galleries,

and the wooden swing-doors slammed beneath their violent gusts.
In the lower tunnels, trains of trucks kept passing along at

the rate of fifteen miles an hour, while at their approach electric
bells warned the workmen to cower down in the refuge places.

Lifts went incessantly up and down, worked by powerful engines
on the surface of the soil. Coal Town was throughout brilliantly

lighted by the electric lamps at full power.
Mining operations were being carried on with the greatest activity;

coal was being piled incessantly into the trucks, which went in hundreds
to empty themselves into the corves at the bottom of the shaft.

While parties of miners who
had labored during the night were taking needful rest, the others

worked without wasting an hour.
Old Simon Ford and Madge, having finished their dinner, were resting

at the door of their cottage. Simon smoked a good pipe of tobacco,
and from time to time the old couple spoke of Nell, of their boy,

of Mr. Starr, and wondered how they liked their trip to the surface
of the earth. Where would they be now? What would they be doing?

How could they stay so long away from the mine without feeling homesick?
Just then a terrific roaring noise was heard. It was like the sound of a

mighty cataract rushing down into the mine. The old people rose hastily.
They perceived at once that the waters of Loch Malcolm were rising.

A great wave, unfurling like a billow, swept up the bank and broke
against the walls of the cottage. Simon caught his wife in his arms,