cited young Allancuaich to appear, as the person who had been last in the drover's company. Rivalry between the Lamonts and Farquharsons had long existed. The former distrusted all the actions of the latter, good or bad. Animated by this spirit of antagonism, the young man refused to compear before Donald, fearing he might not have a fair hearing; at the same time he was well aware that the Lamonts could not withstand their powerful neighbours, and that he would be immediately searched after by the indefatigable William of Coldrach. He therefore fled to the hills. As he anticipated, a party of the Farquharsons, led by the fiscal, was soon in movement, and from their knowledge of the district ferreted out, pursued, and hemmed him in beside the deep Pol-ma-nuire, formed by the Dee a little west of Càrn a' chuimhne. Desperate, he leaped into the water to escape to the other side, but was drowned. His father, an old frail man, died of grief, and the confiscated lairdship was given to Alexander, Donald's third son. Long afterwards, but too late for his kin to benefit by it, the innocence of young Allancuaich was discovered. Among a number of Highland freebooters apprehended in Moray on a charge of cattle-lifting was the drover's servant, who, before his execution at Elgin, confessed that, after parting with their guide, young Lamont, sorely tempted by the large sum of gold in his master's sporran, as he was walking on behind, he drew his sword, and with one blow felled Rory to the ground. After the murder and robbery he durst not show his face in his own country, and therefore joined a band of kern.

Our hero was now advanced in years, and not so well fitted to bestir himself during those troublous times, in the beginning of which he had been largely an actor. One event-the change of religion which about this time, 1576, took place in Braemar found him unwillingly a passive actor. It will be best to let his grandchild relate the matter in his own way.

66

SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE CHANGE OF RELIGION IN BRAEMAR.

"While Mary, our Queen, was in France, our nobles in Parliament, having promise of the church-lands and goods from the Reformers, passed an act to banish all parish priests (1560). Mr John Avignon (Owenson), priest in Braemar, would not obey, especially as this act was not subscribed by our Queen at Paris. He was a very pious, holy man, and was thought to have the spirit of prophecy. He threatened God's judgment on the first who should lay hands upon him. Meantime, while he preached with great zeal against the new religion, Beatrix Farquharson,

daughter to Invercauld, and sister to Donald Farquharson of Castletown, a bold rough woman,' having cast out with the priest, arrived at kirk at the end of the first sermon. Some people, going out, told her the priest preached terribly against the new religion. Why,' says she, as she was coming in, don't you send him away with the rest, as the law orders? We are afraid,' replied they, 'as he threatens God's judgments on him who lays hands upon him first.'-'I'll take my chance of that,' answered she, and went in and struck him on the shoulder. Then the hired people took hold of him just as he was beginning mass. After a little exhortation to stand firm to the doctrine he taught them, and teach it to their children, never to have any spiritual commerce with those new upstarts-selfcommissioned heretics-he said that with time God would send them a priest commissioned by Jesus Christ and his holy church. "Those hired by Government brought him down the way of Aberdeen. About forty of the oldest men followed him: among these was Donald of Castletown, above mentioned, my great-grandfather. At the march between the parish of Crathy and that of Braemar, Mr John told my grandfather to sit down, saying, 'I see by your tears you are sorry that I am banished, and I'll tell you something.'

"The forty old men of the company sat close to hear what he would say. I baptised a child to you last day, and of that child there shall come some who will be a support to religion until I get liberty again. This is the last parish that turned its back on the true religion of the five parishes next it; and it shall be the first that will receive it again. I am not content with your sister, Mrs M'Kenzie, or Mrs Davidson of Dalmore ; and in token she has offended God, the hand that struck me today will rot, and be cut from her shoulder before a year and a day pass.' This prophecy was spread far and near. The person concerned despised it. Some time thereafter she felt an intolerable pain in her right arm: she sends to Aberdeen for a physician. The foreman and another were sent, and on their way they told their errand. They were told of the holy man's prophecy, and that what he used to foretell came exactly to pass. They went on, and after examining her arm, said, 'We see no sign of disease in this arm; but if your pain is from God, it is in vain to apply plaisters to it; yet, if you please, we will cut it off. This she refused. Her arm turned blue and then black, and had such a stench that she got a room to herself. Before the year was ended, she was forced to cause it to be cut at her shoulder; and I heard my father, Lewis Farquharson, say, he knew old men that saw her sleeve waving with the wind. I knew a gentleman descended lineally of that woman, who told

me and others he did not doubt of the truth of that story. Very few in Braemar, come to any age since her time, have been ignorant or doubted of it, either Protestants or Catholics."

The sequel of the father's quaint story will more properly come in when we speak of the Auchindrynes.

It is high time to close this long-winded legend, and I will conclude, with one other tale, the history of Donald of Castletown. But to begin from the beginning.

In 1572, when Adam Gordon was besieging the Castle of Glen Bervie, hearing that a party of the king's friends were in Brechin, he set off, surprised them in the morning, and cut them all to pieces. It befell one night during his expedition that he had to quarter his forces in the Braes of Balfour. He had with him a natural son in command of a party of horse. It was made known to the countrymen that compensation would be allowed for the forage and all else required by the troops, and it was therefore natural that the farmer on whom Adam's son was billeted should have requested the right and due from the young man. He took a different view of the question, judging the money allowed him for expenses would jingle more agreeably in his privy purse than in the peasant's pocket. Both flew into a rage, and a good row got up; but at length Gordon's dagger ended the dispute and the farmer both together. The report of this trifle clouded Adam's brow. He ordered his son to compear.

"Brute!" burst from his lips, "you have disgraced me and my arms by your violence and accursed greed of gold. I will not have a murderer to aid me in doing battle in a just cause; for I verily believe the anger of God would in such a case give victory to the foe. To my sorrow and shame you are my sonthank that for restraining my arm; but depart, wretch, for ever from my sight, else, as God lives, my own hand will string you up to the first tree by the wayside."

The young man rushed from his father's presence, and wandered far away.

Years after, one evening, as the sun was going down, he descended from the Month Keen route on Brachlie. The laird was an old gentleman—a kind, good, honest soul, universally beloved and esteemed. Unluckily he had married a young wife, a neighbour laird's daughter.

When Gordon presented himself, he was, as usual in the Highlands, hospitably received, and invited to pass the night in the castle. The evening was spent in agreeable converse-so agreeable, indeed, that the laird would not allow him to depart on the following morning. And morning after morning he did not depart―no, not at all. He was a taking fellow-one accom

plished in all courtly acquirements, manly exercises, and winning gallantry—and the old laird was more and more pleased with him, and the young lady not a bit less, perhaps more. Queer things began to be whispered of the stranger and the gay lady, and

"Word went to the kitchen,

And word went to the ha'."

But the good old laird saw nothing and said nothing; and things went on as if things were right, till they ended in a dreadful tragedy. But I anticipate.

You will all recollect the feud between the Clan Chattan and Huntly, which, long smouldering, burst out anew at the instigation of Huntly's enemies, by those vassals refusing to assist in the erecting of Ruthven Castle. The Grants for another reason became the allies of the M'Intoshes; but we have nothing to do with them. The irritation on the part of the M'Intoshes getting the better of all prudence, they fell into the Braes of Mar, plundering, robbing, and carrying away the flocks, herds, and valuables of the people whom they knew to be Huntly's allies and friends. Lamont of Inverey, thinking this a fit time to have his revenge for the evil treatment he considered his relatives of Allancuaich had met with from Donald of Castletown, and wishing to humble his rivals, joined the M'Intoshes. They not finding Braemar fat enough, descended the Dee through Crathie, and fell like a torrent on Glen Muick, Glen Gairn, and Tullich, whither some spies had preceded them.

About this time Adam Gordon's natural son chanced to be wandering about the Milltown, where was then an hostelry, revolving the various turns of fate below, and as the dusk of even came down, accidentally saw two strangers drawing near. He followed them into a private apartment of the hostelry. He treated them liberally to the best of the good things there. They became great friends. He drew out of them that they were the spies of the Clan Chattan; and they became jolly and free. Cup succeeded cup, and he took out handfuls of gold, and flashed the pieces before their eyes. How their eyes opened! Their thoughts became deadly, their glances deadlier.

"Do you wish gold then ?" inquired he.

The answer was in their faces.

"Look here then," exclaimed Gordon, pointing through the window to a light in the Castle of Brachlie; "there is an old man and a young lady in the room where that light is burning. If you wish to get gold, look at this purse here, you will have it all. Don't lay a hand on the lady, but kill the old man-kill the old man.'

The ruffians departed with wild looks, and the dread deed

was done. They came back with wilder looks to claim their hire. There were terrible cries on their footsteps. Gordon met them a little before they reached the hostelry, with some men behind him.

"Wretches, what have you done?" demanded he.

"The gold, the gold! We have killed him," replied they. "Killed the laird!!!" burst from Gordon, in feigned horror and surprise. "You hear them, men; fall on them; kill them, spare them not; kill them."

on.

The servants from the castle now came up; the united party fell on the two murderers and beat them to death. Gordon thought his crime would for ever remain unknown. As soon after the laird's tragical death as decency would permit, he married Brachlie's widow, and became laird himself. Time went In spite of all his precautions, the knowledge of his crime wormed out. The love of his wife turned to loathing. She sat alone in the castle, a mother that found no consolation in the embraces of a murderer's children; and she was desolate-yes, more than if he were dead. The tenantry met him with stern cold faces and hard eyes-returning no smile-accepting no favour and he died accursed. His descendants were the second Gordons of Brachlie.

To end with the raid of the Clan Chattan, in revenge for the slaughter of their spies, they treated Glen Muick with the greatest severity. Henry Gordon of Knock, Alexander Gordon of Toldou, and Thomas Gordon of Blacharrage, fell victims to their ire, and Knock Castle, with the whole country, was burnt. Brachlie, being better fortified, and well garrisoned by the flying tenants, held out.

I know it is currently reported that the Baron of Brachlie was killed by Colonel John Farquharson of Inverey, and so forth, though the colonel was not born in 1590, nor his father before him, as you will soon learn. There is in the whole tale a confusion of dates and circumstances. The descendant of the intriguer, whom we have just seen acquiring so foully the lands of the worthy baron, was indeed killed in a skirmish between the Glen Muick men under his command, and the Inverey men headed by the colonel; but this happened about one hundred years after the date in question, and will be fully explained hereafter.

To continue. On the retreat of the M'Intoshes, hastened by the report that Aboyne, Cromar, Birse, and Glen Tanner were arming to march against them, Lamont of Inverey, who had assisted the marauders in all their depredations, found himself in an evil plight. It is pretended that the Farquharsons, after employing some agent to conceal a few sheep in his "kill