"What should I do here, where I can scarce get bread for myself and you, and when the times are growing daily worse?
Would you but sit down and listen, I would convince you I have acted for the best." With a bitter smile Elspat sat down, and the same severe ironical expression was on her features, as, with her lips firmly closed, she listened to his vindication.
Hamish went on, without being disconcerted by her expected displeasure.
"When I left you, dearest mother, it was to go to MacPhadraick's house; for although I knew he is crafty and worldly, after the fashion of the Sassenach, yet he is wise, and I thought how he would teach me, as it would cost him nothing, in which way I could mend our estate in the world." "Our estate in the world!" said Elspat, losing patience at the word; "and went you to a base fellow with a soul no better than that of a cowherd, to ask counsel about your conduct?
Your father asked none, save of his courage and his sword." "Dearest mother," answered Hamish, "how shall I convince you that you live in this land of our fathers as if our fathers were yet living?
You walk as it were in a dream, surrounded by the phantoms of those who have been long with the dead.

When my father lived and fought, the great respected the man of the strong right hand, and the rich feared him.

He had protection from Macallum Mhor, and from Caberfae, and tribute from meaner men.

[Caberfae--ANGLICE, the Stag's-head, the Celtic designation for the arms of the family of the high Chief of Seaforth.] That is ended, and his son would only earn a disgraceful and unpitied death by the practices which gave his father credit and power among those who wear the breacan.

The land is conquered; its lights are quenched--Glengarry, Lochiel, Perth, Lord Lewis, all the high chiefs are dead or in exile.