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Updated: May 12, 2025
And then the last verse she sang in the Gaelic! He was so near that he could hear this adjuration to the unhappy lover to seek his boat and fly, steering wide of Jura and avoiding Mull: "Hi-ri-libhin o, Buin B
Hug-o-rin-o, 'Tis thy undoing! Hi-ri-libhin o, Friends of my love, Hi-ri-libhin o, Do not upbraid him; He was leal Hug-o-rin-o, Chance betrayed him." Macleod's breathing came quick and hard. She had not sung the ballad of the brave MacIntyre when formerly he had seen the piece. Did she merely wish him to know, by this arch rendering of the gloomy song, that she was pursuing her Highland studies?
And then this drawing-room scene, in which she comes in alone, and talking to herself? She sits down to the piano carelessly. Some one enters unperceived, and stands silent there, to listen to the singing. And this air that she sings, waywardly, like a light-hearted schoolgirl: "Hi-ri-libhin o, Brae MacIntyre, Hi-ri-libhin o, Costly thy wooing! Thou'st slain the maid.
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