Jessie of Luc know. 175 



of that — but failing to judge correctly of what the oc- 

 casion demanded, and the struggle was over. Death 

 was the last of the fears of those poor women night 

 after night as the days rolled slowly away. One night 

 there was graver silence than usual in the room ; all 

 were despondent and lay resigned to their seemingly 

 impending fate. No rescue came, nor any tidings of 

 relief. In the darkness one piercing scream was heard 

 from the narrow window. A Highland nurse had clam- 

 bered up to gaze through the bars and strain her ears 

 once more. The cooling breeze of night blew in her 

 face and wafted such music as she could not stay to 

 hear. One spring to the ground, a clapping of hands 

 above her head, and such a shriek as appalled her sisters 

 who clustered around ; but all she could say between 

 the sobs — ' The slogan ! the slogan ! ' Few knew 

 what the slogan was. ' Didna ye hear? Didna ye 

 hear ? ' cried the almost demented girl, and then listen- 

 ing one moment that she might not be deceived, she 

 muttered, ' It's the Macgregors Gathering, the grandest 

 o' them a',' and fell senseless to the ground. 



"Truly, my lassie, the ' grandest o' them a*,' for never 

 came such strains before to mortal ears. And so Jessie 

 of Lucknow takes her place in history as one of the 

 finest themes for painter, dramatist, poet, or historian, 

 henceforth and forever. I have some hesitation whether 

 the next paragraph in my note-book should go down 

 here or be omitted. Probably it would be in better 



