The same evening the earl and his guests were sitting in the June twilight--the long, late northern twilight, which is nowhere more lovely than on the shores of Loch Beg.

Malcolm had just come in with candles, as a gentle hint that it was time for his master, over whose personal welfare he was sometimes a little too solicitous, to retire, when there happened what for the time being startled every body present.
Malcolm, going to the window, sprang suddenly back with a shout and a scream.
"I kent it weel.

It was sure to be! Oh, my lord, my lord!" "What is the matter ?" said Mr.Menteith, sharply.

"You're gone daft, man;" for the big Highlander was trembling like a child.
"Whisht! Dinna speak o't.

It was my lord's wraith, ye ken.