As you are from Perth, Donald, it is possible you may know this gentleman.

He is Mr.Fergus Drummond, of Tarbet." "I kenned his father weel; aye, and was close beside him at Culloden, for when our company was broken I joined one that was making a stand, close by, and it was Drummond who was leading it.
Stoutly did we fight, and to the end stood back to back, hewing with our claymores at their muskets.
"At last I fell, wounded, I couldna say where at the time.

When I came to myself and, finding that all was quiet, sat up and felt myself over, I found that it was a musket bullet that had ploughed along the top of my head, and would ha' killed me had it not been that my skull was, as my father had often said when I was a boy, thicker than ordinary.

There were dead men lying all about me; but it was a dark night, and as there was no time to be lost if I was to save my skin, I crawled away to some distance from the field; and then took to my heels, and did not stop till next morning, when I was far away among the hills." While he was talking, Donald had been occupied in adding a second plate and knife and fork and glass, and the two officers sat down to their meal.

Fergus asked the soldier other questions as to the fight in which his father had lost his life; for beyond that he had fought to the last with his face to the foe, the lad had never learnt any particulars, for of the clansmen who had accompanied his father not one had ever returned.
"Mr.Drummond will take the empty room next to mine, Donald.