"Mind how you come. I'll give you a hand when it's dangerous."

"Dangerous!" said Max, shrinking.

"Well, I mean awkward; you couldn't fall very far."

"But why are we going up there?"

"Never mind; come on."

"But you are going to play me some trick."

"If you don't come directly, I will play you a trick. I wasn't going to, but if you flinch, I'll shove you in one of the old dungeons, and see how you like that."

"But--"

"Well, you are a coward! I didn't think c.o.c.kneys were such girls."

"I'm not a coward, and I'm coming," said Max quickly; "but I'm not used to going up places like this."

"Oh, I am sorry!" cried Kenneth mockingly. "If I had known you were coming, we'd have had the man from Glasgow to lay on a few barrels of gas, and had a Brussels carpet laid down."

"Now, you are mocking at me," said Max quietly. "I could not help feeling nervous. Go on, please. I'll come."

"He is a rum chap," said Kenneth, laughing to himself, as he disappeared in the darkness.

"Do the steps go up straight?" said Max from below.

"No; round and round like a corkscrew. It won't be so dark higher up.

There used to be a loophole here, but the stones fell together."

Max drew a deep breath, and began stumbling up the spiral stairs, which had mouldered away till some of them sloped, while others were deep hollows; but he toiled on, with a half giddy, shrinking sensation increasing as he rose.

"If you feel anything rush down by you," said Kenneth, in a hollow whisper, "don't be afraid; it's only an old ghost. They swarm here."

"I don't believe it," said Max quietly.

"Well, will you believe this?--there are two steps gone, and there's a big hole just below me. Give me your hand, or you'll go through."

Max made no reply, but went cautiously on till he could feel that he had reached the dangerous place, and stopped.

"Now then, give me your hand, and reach up with one leg quite high.

That's the way."

Kenneth felt that the soft hand he took was cold and damp.

"Got your foot up? Ready?"

"Yes."

"There now, spring."

There was a bit of a scuffle, and Max stood beside his young host.

"That's the way. It's worse going down, but you'll soon get used to it.

Why, Scood and I run up and down here."

Max made no answer, but cautiously followed his leader, growing more and more nervous as he climbed, for his unaccustomed feet kept slipping, and in several places the stones were so worn and broken away that it really would have been perilous in broad daylight, while in the semi-obscurity, and at times darkness, there were spots that, had he seen them, the lad would have declined to pa.s.s.

"Here we are," said Kenneth, in a whisper, as the light now shone down upon them. "Be quiet. I don't suppose he heard us come up."

Max obeyed, and followed his guide up a few more steps, to where they turned suddenly to left as well as right--the latter leading to the ruined battlements of the corner tower, the former into an old chamber, partly covered in by the groined roof, and lit by a couple of loopholes from the outside, and by a broken window opening on to the old quadrangle.

The floor was of stone, and so broken away in places that it was possible to gaze down to the bas.e.m.e.nt of the tower, the lower floors being gone; and here, busy at work, in the half roofless place, with the furniture consisting of a short plank laid across a couple of stones beneath the window, and an old three-legged stool in the crumbling, arched hollow of what had been the fireplace, sat a wild-looking old man. The top of his head was shiny and bald, but from all round streamed down his long thin silvery locks, and, as he raised his head for a moment to pick up something from the floor, Max could see that his face was half hidden by his long white beard, which flew out in silvery strands from time to time, as a puff of wind came from the unglazed window.

He too was in jacket and kilt, beneath which his long thin bare legs glistened with s.h.a.ggy silver hairs, and, as Max gazed at the dull, sunken eyes, high cheek-bone, and eagle-beak nose of the wonderfully wrinkled face, he involuntarily shrank back, and felt disposed to hastily descend.

For a few moments he did not realise what the old man was doing, for there was something shapeless in his lap, and what seemed to be three or four joints of an old fishing-rod beneath his arm, while he busily smoothed and pa.s.sed a piece of fine string or twisted hemp through his hands, one of which Max saw directly held a piece of wax.

"Is he shoemaking?" thought Max; but directly after saw that the old fellow was about to bind one of the joints of the fishing-rod.

Just then, as he raised his head, he seemed to catch sight of the two lads standing in the old doorway, and the eyes that were dull and filmy-looking gradually began to glisten, and the face grow wild and fierce, but only to soften to a smile as he exclaimed, in a harsh, highly-pitched voice,--

"Ah, Kenneth, my son! Boy of my heart! Have you come, my young eagle, to see the old man?"

"Yes; I've brought our visitor, Mr Max Blande."

"Ah!" said the old man, half-rising and making a courtly bow; "she hurt that the young Southron laird had come, and there's sorrow in her old heart, for the pipes are not ready to give him welcome to the home of our Chief."

"What, haven't you got 'em mended yet?"

"Not quite, Kenneth, laddie. I'm doing them well, and to-morrow they shall sing the old songs once again."

"Hurrah!" cried Kenneth. "My friend here is fra the sooth, but he lo'es the skirl o' the auld pipes like a son o' The Mackhai."

"Hey! Does he?" cried the old man, firing up. "Then let him lay his han' in mine, and to-morrow, and the next day, and while he stays, he shall hear the old strains once again."

"That's right."

"Ay, laddie, for Donald has breath yet, auld as he is."

"Ah, you're pretty old, aren't you, Donald?"

"Old? Ay. She'll be nearly a hundert, sir," said the old man proudly.

"A hundert--a hundert years."

Max stared, and felt a curious sensation of shrinking from the weird-looking old man, which increased as he suddenly beckoned him to approach with his thin, claw-like hand, after sinking back in his seat.

In spite of his shrinking, Max felt compelled to go closer to the old fellow, who nodded and smiled and patted the baize-covered skin in his lap.