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TALES OF MY LANDLORD.
CHAPTER VII.
When Albin her claymore indignantly draws,
When her bonneted chieftains around her shall crowd,
Clan-Ranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud,
All plaided and plumed in their tartan array
Lochiel's Warning.
Whoever saw that morning the castle of Darnlinvarach beheld a busy and a gallant sight.
The various Chiefs, arriving with their different retinues, which, notwithstanding their numbers, formed no more than their usual equipage and body guard upon occasions of solemnity, saluted the lord of the castle and each other with overflowing kindness, or with haughty and distant politeness, according to the circumstances of friendship or hostility in which their clans had recently stood to each other. Each Chief, however small his comparative
