Book One - Chapter 28 The Highland Piper

"Who are you?" said I, in no very gentle tone.

"Donal's my name, sir, an' if ye had an e'e for the tartan, ye'd
ken I was a Stuart."

"And what do you want here, Donald Stuart?"

"The verra question she'd be askin' ye'sel'--wha' gars ye tae
come gowkin' an' spierin' aboot here at sic an hour?"

"It is my intention to live here, for the future," said I.

"Hoot toot! ye'll be no meanin' it?"

"But I do mean it," said I.

"Eh, man! but ye maun ken the place is no canny, what wi' pixies,
an' warlocks, an' kelpies, forbye--"

"Indeed, they told me it was haunted, but I determined to see for
myself."

"Weel?"

"Well, I am glad to find it haunted by nothing worse than a
wandering Scots piper."

The Highlander smiled his wry smile, and taking out a snuff-box,
inhaled a pinch, regarding me the while.

"Ye're the first as ever stayed--after they'd heard the first
bit squeakie, tae find out if 't were a real bogle or no."

"But how in the world did you make such awful sounds?"

"I'm thinkin' it's the bit squeakie ye'll be meanin'?" he
inquired.

"Yes; how did you do it?"

"Oh, it's juist the pipes!" he answered, patting them
affectionately, "will I show ye the noo?"