"Let us go down," answered Lord Menteith, "and see how our muster is
likely to thrive, for I hear a good deal of bustle in the castle."

When they entered the hall, the domestics keeping modestly in the
background, morning greetings passed between Lord Menteith, Angus
M'Aulay, and his English guests, while Allan, occupying the same settle
which he had filled the preceding evening, paid no attention whatever to
any one. Old Donald hastily rushed into the apartment. "A message from
Vich Alister More; [The patronymic of MacDonell of Glengarry.] he is
coming up in the evening."

"With how many attendants?" said M'Aulay.

"Some five-and-twenty or thirty," said Donald, "his ordinary retinue."

"Shake down plenty of straw in the great barn," said the Laird.

Another servant here stumbled hastily in, announcing the expected
approach of Sir Hector M'Lean, "who is arriving with a large following."

"Put them in the malt-kiln," said M'Aulay; "and keep the breadth of the
middenstead between them and the M'Donalds; they are but unfriends to
each other."

Donald now re-entered, his visage considerably lengthened--"The tell's
i' the folk," he said; "the haill Hielands are asteer, I think. Evan
Dhu, of Lochiel, will be here in an hour, with Lord kens how many
gillies."

"Into the great barn with them beside the M'Donalds," said the Laird.