274 NOVEMBER 



made good their escape by twisting their blankets 

 into ropes. Four of them had descended in safety, 

 when the rope snapped with the fifth. The sixth, 

 Thomas Barrow, slipped to the broken end and let 

 himself drop. He broke some ribs and sprained an 

 ankle, nevertheless his comrades managed to carry 

 him off in safety. 



Doune is a place of sorrowful memories and 

 blighted hopes, yet it has none of the sombre, in- 

 hospitable aspect of so many ruins in the north. 

 Rather does it give the impression of a baronial 

 palace, lying fair to the sun, wherein long trains of 

 guests might be received and treated with rural 

 abundance. The fine red wine of Beaugency, and 

 good brown ale; while the courtyard rang with 

 much strumming of jongleurs and jingling of spurs. 

 Fair and far is the prospect from its ramparts over 

 the deep oak woods of Blair Drummond, and beside 

 it flows the Teith, one of the earliest salmon rivers 

 in Scotland. The fish rightly prefer this lucid 

 torrent, fed from the great lakes of Lubnaig and 

 Vennachar, to the sluggish, peaty Forth, which 

 joins it just above Stirling. The Teith, indeed, 

 might be the Abana or Pharpar of anglers, but for 

 two wicked impediments in the shape of cruive- 



