THE SANTA TRINIDADA.

A TALE OF THE HEBRIDES.

BY WILLIAM E. AYTOUN, ESQ.

ABOUT a hundred years ago, in the savage and nearly desolate island of Benbecula, one of the most rugged of the Hebridean cluster, there dwelt two brothers, called Malcolm and Donald Maclean. They were fishermen, and earned only a scanty subsistence by their trade, for at that time few vessels were engaged in the Scottish fisheries, and such as did frequent the coasts were supplied from other stations. They had, however, a little patch of cultivated ground attached to their hut, from which, in a favourable season, they reaped a tolerable crop of barley, and they also were allowed by the laird the privilege of pasturage, rent-free, over the hill-side, and so contrived to keep a cow and a few sheep, which constituted the whole of their stock. In short, their situation was neither better nor worse than that of the majority of their neighbours, who knew nothing of the world beyond the bounds of the wild Benbecula, and who lived and died in the same state of rude ignorance in which they were born.

But Malcolm Maclean, the elder of the brothers,

was in some respects superior to his neighbours. He had nothing of that laziness and passive indolence, too often the characteristic and bane of the Highland peasantry; on the contrary, he was bold, impetuous, and enterprising, and secretly repined at the destiny which had fettered him down to so narrow a sphere of exertion, from which he saw no possible means of escape. This ambition, which under other circumstances might have been turned to material advantage, degenerated at last with him into a sort of morbid craving; and the absence of any fixed aim or definite object served only to make him discontented with his humble station. Little as he knew of the world beyond the limits of his native island, he had learned that gold was the great talisman by which honours were achieved, reputation purchased, and pleasure secured. He was told, and not untruly, that on the mainland the possessor of that precious metal was as a prince who could command all others to do his bidding and rely on their obedience; and thenceforth he determined that all his powers should be bent to the acquisition of that one object, of whose real value he knew so little, and less of its proper use.

In Benbecula money was little used in those days as current coin. The refinements of civilization had not gone so far as to supersede the simple method of barter common to all isolated communities. From the ships which occasionally touched

at the coasts, the islanders received brandy, tobacco, and foreign manufactures, in exchange for their dried fish, wool, and other native produce. Among themselves the same system prevailed, so that money, as we use it now, was hardly known among them, and if offered, was almost received with hesitation. Happy, perhaps, for them had they never known its use!

In vain, then, did Malcolm Maclean rise early and toil late; in vain was his boat, in all practicable weather, launched into the sea. After the struggle of years, he stood precisely in the same position as before. He had, indeed, secured some comforts for his cottage, which other neighbours did not possess, but from his great object and aim he was as far distant as ever. There was no content in his soul. Very different was his brother Donald. A simple, kind-hearted, affectionate being, he never for a moment considered his own interest or wishes, if they interfered in the slightest degree with those of any one else. Over him Malcolm possessed the most entire ascendency. The younger Maclean, accustomed from his infancy to rely solely upon the judgment of the elder, clung to him with the most implicit faith; Malcolm's desire to him was law Malcolm's opinion more decisive than

the fiat of the gravest oracle.

The cottage of the Macleans was situated upon a high land, overlooking the western ocean. The

scenery around was of that wild and savage nature peculiar to the coast of Scotland, stern even when the skies were fair, but indescribably grand when seen amid the war of the elements. The smooth green turf gradually sloped down to the summit of a wall of rocks which, with perpendicular steepness, rose out of the deep green sea. No masses of shingle, or shelves of sand, lay beneath; nothing but dark, unfathomable water, lashing against the solid basalt. Some hundred yards further out, there lay a lesser ridge, conspicuous even at the highest tide, which somewhat broke the flow of the great Atlantic wave. Most magnificent it was in winter, when the storm came sweeping from the west, to stand upon the brink of the precipice, and watch the tumult of the ocean as it rolled the stupendous billows towards the land. Mountainlike and unbroken, each in succession approached the outer reef, over which it sprang with a roar that would have stifled thunder, and then, collecting, as it were, its scattered force, dashed itself madly against the stubborn rock, spouting up columns of spray, which the wind caught and whirled far into the interior of the island.

In some places, the action of the waters had hollowed out immense caverns in the cliffs dark subterraneous passages, along which the tide rolled with prodigious force. One of these, with an entrance as high as a cathedral dome, extended a

great way inland, and terminated at a deep pit, open to the day, close by the cottage of the brothers. Down this a sort of natural staircase, yet practicable for none but an experienced cragsman, led to the water's edge, and by a narrow and slippery path, formed of columnar fragments, it was possible in calm weather to creep half way along the cavern. Deep, and black as ink, lay the water weltering beneath, stirring with its rise and fall huge masses of tangle and seaweed, which grew there with unusual luxuriance. Few birds frequented that dark, dismal place. Only the swart cormorant was seen swimming sullenly near the entrance, and seeking a hiding-place within, at the approach of the fisher's boat.

The islanders told strange tales of the "Gloomy Cave," which they held to be the resort of supernatural beings, the mermaid of the waters, and the mischievous kelpie who lures men to their ruin. Many marvelled that the Macleans had chosen so suspicious a place for their dwelling, and forboded coming disaster; but Malcolm, though a Highlander, thought little of spiritual terrors, and Donald would have been content to dwell hard by the gates of purgatory if his brother was with him.

One summer evening, Malcolm left the cottage, and, descending into the cavern by the narrow staircase we have mentioned, made his way along the subterranean passage, and seated himself upon