Donald, as they were speaking, entered, with rather a blither face than
he might have been expected to wear, considering the impending fate of
his master's purse and credit. "Gentlemens, her dinner is ready, and HER
CANDLES ARE LIGHTED TOO," said Donald, with a strong guttural emphasis
on the last clause of his speech.

"What the devil can he mean?" said Musgrave, looking to his countryman.

Lord Menteith put the same question with his eyes to the Laird, which
M'Aulay answered by shaking his head.

A short dispute about precedence somewhat delayed their leaving the
apartment. Lord Menteith insisted upon yielding up that which belonged
to his rank, on consideration of his being in his own country, and of
his near connexion with the family in which they found themselves. The
two English strangers, therefore, were first ushered into the hall,
where an unexpected display awaited them. The large oaken table was
spread with substantial joints of meat, and seats were placed in
order for the guests. Behind every seat stood a gigantic Highlander,
completely dressed and armed after the fashion of his country, holding
in his right hand his drawn sword, with the point turned downwards, and
in the left a blazing torch made of the bog-pine. This wood, found in
the morasses, is so full of turpentine, that, when split and dried, it
is frequently used in the Highlands instead of candles. The unexpected
and somewhat startling apparition was seen by the red glare of
the torches, which displayed the wild features, unusual dress, and
glittering arms of those who bore them, while the smoke, eddying up to
the roof of the hall, over-canopied them with a volume of vapour. Ere
the strangers had recovered from their surprise, Allan stept forward,