also go with Aboyn; they ride without interruption to the place of Frendraught, or sight of Pitcaple by the way. Aboyn took his leave of the laird, but upon no condition he and his lady would not suffer him to go, nor none that was with him, that night, but earnestly urged him, (though against his will) to bide. They were well entertained, supped merrily, and went to bed joyfully. The Viscount was laid in an bed in the Old Tower going off the hall, and standing upon a vault wherein there was an round hole, devysed of old, just under Aboyn's bed. Robert Gordon, born in Sutherland, his servitor, and English Will, his page, were both laid beside him in the same chamber; the laird of Rothemay, with some servants beside him, was laid in an upper chamber, just above Aboyn's chamber; and, in another room above that chamber, was laid George Chalmers of Noth, and George Gordon, another of the Viscount's servants;

with them also was laid Captain Rollock, then in Frendraught's own company. Thus, all being at rest, about midnight, that dolorous tower took fire in so sudden and furious a manner, yea, and in an clap, that the noble Viscount, the Laird of Rothemay, English Will, Colonel Jvat, another of Aboyn's servants, and other two, being six in number, were cruelly burnt, and tormented to the death, without help or relief. The laird of Frendraught, his lady, and haill household, looking on, without moving, or striving to deliver them from the fury of this fearful fire, as was reported. Robert Gordon, called Sutherland, Robert being in the Viscount's chamber, escaped this fire with the life. George Chalmers, and Captain Rollock, being in the third room, escaped also this fire; and, as was said, Aboyn might have saved himself also, if he would have gone out of doors, which he would not do, but suddenly ran up

stairs to Rothemay's chamber, and wakened him to rise; and, as he is wakening him, the timber passage and lofting of the chamber hastily takes fire, so that none of them could win down stairs again; so they turned to a window looking to the close, where they piteously cryed, many time, help! help! for God's cause! The laird and the lady, with their servants, all seeing and hearing the woeful crying, made no help, nor manner of helping; which they perceiving, cried oftentimes mercy at God's hands for their sins, syne clasped in others arms, and chearfully suffered their martyrdom. Thus died this noble Viscount, of singular expectation, Rothemay, a brave youth, and the rest, by this doleful fire, never enough to be deplored, to the great grief and sorrow of their kin, parents, and haill common people, especially to the noble Marquis, who, for his good-will, got this reward. No man can express the

dolour of him and his lady, nor yet the grief of the Viscount's own dear lady, when it came to her ears, which she kept to her dying day; disdaining after the company of man in her lifetime, following the love of the turtle dove.

"How soon the Marquis gets word, he directs some friends to take up their ashes and burnt bones, which they could get, and as they could be kent, to put ilk one's ashes and bones in an chest, being six chests in the haill, which, with great sorrow and care, was had to the kirk of Garntullie, and there buried. In the mean time, the Marquis writes to the Lord Gordon, then dwelling in Inverness, of the accident. It is reported, that upon the morn after this woeful fire, the Lady Frendraught, daughter to the earl of Sutherland, and near cousin to the Marquis, busked in a white plaid, and riding on a small

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naig, having a boy leading her horse, without any more in her company; in this pitiful manner she came weeping and mourning to the Bog, desiring entry to speak with my Lord, but this was refused; so she returned back to her own house the same gate she came, comfortless."-SPALDING.

Such is a contemporary account of the melancholy catastrophe, on which the following ballad is founded. It has never been satisfactorily proven, that the fire was intentionally raised; but circumstances would lead us to infer, that it was not wholly without the connivance of Frendraught. If there is indeed any confidence to be put in general feeling or report, little doubt can be entertained of his guilt. Two of his servants, John Meldrum and John Toasch, suspected of being "art and part," (aiding and abetting) were brought to trial; Meldrum denied every part of the charge; but, on cross examination,