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           Eventheswirlofakiltcoulddoit;therewasthatdreamlikemergingofsoundandsight,oflifeandbrilliantvitality,whichmeansamemorysopiercing,sospellbinding,thatitwillneverbelost.

           Downwentthecrossedswordsonthefloor;twomeninClanMacDonaldofSleatkiltsraisedtheirarmsabovetheirheads,handsflickedoverlikeballetdancers,andverygravely,asifattheendtheswordswouldbeplungedintotheirbreasts,begantopicktheirdelicatewaythrough,between,amongtheblades.

           Ahighshrillscreamrippedabovetheairywaveringofthepipes,thetunebecame"AlltheBlueBonnetsovertheBorder,"thesaberswerescoopedup,andeverymanintheroomswungintothedance,armslinkinganddissolving,kiltsflaring.Reels,strathspeys,flings;theydancedthemall,feetontheboardfloorsendingechoesamongtherafters,bucklesonshoesflashing,andeverytimethepatternchangedsomeonewouldthrowbackhishead,emitthatshrill,ululatingwhoop,setofftrainsofcriesfromotherexuberantthroats.Whilethewomenwatched,forgotten.

           Itwasclosetofourinthemorningwhentheceilidhbrokeup;outsidewasnottheastringentcrispnessofBlairAthollorSkyebutthetorporofatropicalnight,agreatheavymoondraggingitselfalongthespangledwastesoftheheavens,andoveritallthestinkingmiasmaofmangroves.YetasArnedrovethemoffinthewheezingoldFord,thelastthingMeggieheardwasthedriftingdwindlinglament"Flowerso’theForest,"biddingtherevelershome.Home.