preventing his obtaining redress, and reflecting against Montrose

for not allowing him what he considered proper reparation.
Kilpont of course defended the conduct of himself and his

relative Montrose, till their argument came to high words; and
finally, from the state they were both in, by an easy transition,

to blows, when Ardvoirlich, with his dirk, struck Kilpont dead on
the spot. He immediately fled, and under the cover of a thick

mist escaped pursuit, leaving his eldest son Henry, who had been
mortally wounded at Tippermuir, on his deathbed.

"His followers immediately withdrew from Montrose, and no course
remained for him but to throw himself into the arms of the

opposite faction, by whom he was well received. His name is
frequently mentioned in Leslie's campaigns, and on more than one

occasion he is mentioned as having afforded protection to several
of his former friends through his interest with Leslie, when the

King's cause became desperate.
"The foregoingaccount of this unfortunate transaction, I am well

aware, differs materially from the account given by Wishart, who
alleges that Stewart had laid a plot for the assassination of

Montrose, and that he murdered Lord Kilpont in consequence of his
refusal to participate in his design. Now, I may be allowed to

remark, that besides Wishart having always been regarded as a
partial historian, and very questionable authority on any subject

connected with the motives or conduct of those who differed from
him in opinion, that even had Stewart formed such a design,

Kilpont, from his name and connexions, was likely to be the very
last man of whom Stewart would choose to make a confidant and

accomplice. On the other hand, the above account, though never,
that I am aware, before hinted at, has been a constanttradition

in the family; and, from the comparative recent date of the
transaction, and the sources from which the tradition has been

derived, I have no reason to doubt its perfect authenticity. It
was most circumstantially detailed as above, given to my father,

Mr. Stewart, now of Ardvoirlich, many years ago, by a man nearly
connected with the family, who lived to the age of 100. This man

was a great-grandson of James Stewart, by a natural son John, of
whom many stories are still current in this country, under his

appellation of JOHN DHU MHOR. This John was with his father at
the time, and of course was a witness of the whole transaction;

he lived till a considerable time after the Revolution, and it
was from him that my father's informant, who was a man before his

grandfather, John dhu Mhor's death, received the information as
above stated.

"I have many apologies to offer for trespassing so long on your
patience; but I felt a natural desire, if possible, to correct

what I conceive to be a groundless imputation on the memory of my
ancestor, before it shall come to be considered as a matter of

History. That he was a man of violent passions and singular
temper, I do not pretend to deny, as many traditions still

current in this country amply verify; but that he was capable of
forming a design to assassinate Montrose, the whole tenor of his

former conduct and principles contradict. That he was obliged to
join the opposite party, was merely a matter of safety, while

Kilpont had so many powerful friends and connexions able and
ready to avenge his death.

"I have only to add, that you have my full permission to make
what use of this communication you please, and either to reject

it altogether, or allow it such credit as you think it deserves;
and I shall be ready at all times to furnish you with any further

information on this subject which you may require, and which it
may be in my power to afford.

"ARDVOIRLICH,
15TH JANUARY, 1830."

The publication of a statement so particular, and probably so
correct, is a debt due to the memory of James Stewart; the

victim, it would seem, of his own violent passions, but perhaps
incapable of an act of premeditated treachery.

ABBOTSFORD,
1ST AUGUST, 1830.

*
II. INTRODUCTION (Supplement).

Sergeant More M'Alpin was, during his residence among us, one of
the most honoured inhabitants of Gandercleugh. No one thought of

disputing his title to the great leathern chair on the "cosiest
side of the chimney," in the common room of the Wallace Arms, on

a Saturday evening. No less would our sexton, John Duirward,
have held it an unlicensed intrusion, to suffer any one to induct

himself into the corner of the left-hand pew nearest to the
pulpit, which the Sergeant regularly occupied on Sundays. There

he sat, his blue invalid uniform brushed with the most scrupulous
accuracy. Two medals of merit displayed at his button-hole, as

well as the empty sleeve which should have been occupied by his
right arm, bore evidence of his hard and honourable service. His

weatherbeaten features, his grey hair tied in a thin queue in the
military fashion of former days, and the right side of his head a

little turned up, the better to catch the sound of the
clergyman's voice, were all marks of his profession and

infirmities. Beside him sat his sister Janet, a little neat old
woman, with a Highland curch and tartan plaid, watching the very

looks of her brother, to her the greatest man upon earth, and
actively looking out for him, in his silver-clasped Bible, the

texts which the minister quoted or expounded.
I believe it was the respect that was universally paid to this

worthyveteran by all ranks in Gandercleugh which induced him to
choose our village for his residence, for such was by no means

his original intention.
He had risen to the rank of sergeant-major of artillery, by hard

service in various quarters of the world, and was reckoned one of
the most tried and trusty men of the Scotch Train. A ball, which

shattered his arm in a peninsular campaign, at length procured
him an honourabledischarge. with an allowance from Chelsea, and

a handsome gratuity from the patriotic fund. Moreover, Sergeant
More M'Alpin had been prudent as well as valiant; and, from

prize-money and savings, had become master of a small sum in the
three per cent consols.

He retired with the purpose of enjoying this income in the wild
Highland glen, in which, when a boy, he had herded black cattle

and goats, ere the roll of the drum had made him cock his bonnet
an inch higher, and follow its music for nearly forty years. To

his recollection, this retired spot was unparalleled in beauty by
the richest scenes he had visited in his wanderings. Even the

Happy Valley of Rasselas would have sunk into nothing upon the
comparison. He came--he revisited the loved scene; it was but a

sterile glen, surrounded with rude crags, and traversed by a
northern torrent. This was not the worst. The fires had been

quenched upon thirty hearths--of the cottage of his fathers he
could but distinguish a few rude stones--the language was almost

extinguished--the ancient race from which he boasted his descent
had found a refuge beyond the Atlantic. One southland farmer,

three grey-plaided shepherds, and six dogs, now tenanted the
whole glen, which in his youth had maintained, in content, if not

in competence, upwards of two hundred inhabitants,
In the house of the new tenant, Sergeant M'Alpin found, however,

an unexpected source of pleasure, and a means of employing his
social affections. His sister Janet had fortunately entertained

so strong a persuasion that her brother would one day return,
that she had refused to accompany her kinsfolk upon their

emigration. Nay, she had consented, though not without a feeling
of degradation, to take service with the intruding Lowlander,

who, though a Saxon, she said, had proved a kind man to her.
This unexpected meeting with his sister seemed a cure for all the

disappointments which it had been Sergeant More's lot to
encounter, although it was not without a reluctant tear that he

heard told, as a Highland woman alone could ten it, the story of
the expatriation of his kinsmen.

She narrated at great length the vain offers they had made of