It was over three hundred years ago in the Highlands of Scotland. There was a man called Steenie Steenson and he was a tenant of Sir Robert Redgauntlet, his laird, at a place called Primrose Hill. Now Steenie was held to be the best man on the pipes in the Highlands, so he was often called to play at Redgauntlet Castle when they were at their merriment.

Now although Steenie was good on the pipes unfortunately he wasn’t so good at managing money, he hadn’t the saving gift, and he got a year behind with his rent. So he was summoned to pay his arrears on a certain day or else flit. Steenie managed to borrow the money, a thousand silver pieces; from one of his neighbours, Laurie Lapraik, who was well satisfied with the security of the cattle at Primrose Hill. Come the day Steenie rode to Redgauntlet Castle with a heavy purse and a light heart.

He was met at the door by the butler, Dougal MacCallum, who led Steenie up into the great oak parlour. And there sat the fearsome laird with his feet on a stool, for he suffered from the gout, and sat next to him dressed in a red-laced coat was a jackanape, a special pet of his. Sir Robert called it Major Weir after the warlock that was burnt. The door shut and the laird gazed at the rent book.

Steenie bowed and placed the bag of silver on the table.

But they were scarcely out of the room when Sir Robert gave a terrible scream. Back ran Dougal, Sir Robert screamed and screamed, he roared for cold water for his feet and wine to cool his throat.

Steenie fled, forgetting both silver and receipt, he ran downstairs. The shrieks grew fainter and fainter, there was a deep-drawn shivering groan, and the word went through the castle that the laird was dead.

Steenie’s best hope was that Dougal had seen the bag of silver and heard the laird speak of making out a receipt. The young laird, now Sir John, came up from Edinburgh to settle his father’s affairs. Dougal MacCallum, as the butler, made the arrangements for the Grand Funeral. Dougal looked worse and worse as night came on and was always last to his bed, which was in a small round room next to the great oak parlour which Sir Robert occupied while he was alive and where he now lay in his coffin.

The night before the funeral Dougal could keep his own counsel no longer and he asked old Hutcheon, the clerk, to sit with him in his room for an hour. Dougal took a toss of brandy and gave one to Hutcheon.

For Dougal would help his master, who suffered from the gout, to turn in bed.

Hutcheon had no will for the work but would not fail his friend and the two old men sat there drinking the brandy, Hutcheon would have liked to read from the bible but Dougal would have none of it.

When midnight came the house was as still and quiet as the grave then they heard the silver whistle call, sharp and shrill, as if Sir Robert were blowing it. The two old men tottered into the room where the dead man lay. Hutcheon saw by the torches the foul fiend in his own shape sitting on the laird’s coffin. He collapsed onto the floor and when he came to he found Dougal dead within two steps of the coffin. As for the whistle it was gone, but afterwards it was heard many times at the top of the house where the owls have their nests. Sir John hushed the matter up, and the Grand Funeral passed over without any other strange happenings.

When it was over the young laird began to settle his affairs, every tenant was called up for his arrears, and Steenie for the full sum that stood against him in the rental-book. Well, away he rode to the castle to tell his story. And he’s introduced to Sir John Redgauntlet, sitting in his father’s chair, gazing at the rental book.

But alas none of the servants had seen the bag of silver Steenie described. Sir John ordered the servants out of the room and turned to Steenie.

And down the stairs Steenie fled.

Away rode Steenie to see his creditor, Laurie Lapraik, but when he told his story Lapraik called him a thief and a liar. So they parted and Steenie rode on till he came to the wood of Pitmurkie. Now at the entry to the wood is a wild common and a lonely inn that was kept by a woman called Tibbie Faw. Steenie called for a mutchkin of brandy, half a pint, for he’d no drink all day. Not taking his foot out of the stirrup he took the brandy at two draughts and named a toast at each.

For Steenie saw that the whole world would regard him as a thief and a liar, and he took that worse than the ruin of his family.

With that Steenie rode into the wood and he hadn’t been riding very long when a stranger came ridding alongside.

Steenie thought he had little to lose so he told his story.

Steenie’s hair stood on end but he was bold with brandy.

The stranger laughed and they continued to ride through the wood when all of a sudden they came to a clearing and but that he knew the place was ten miles off, Steenie would have swore he was back at Redgauntlet Castle.

They rode through the great open gates, beneath the old portcullis, into the courtyard and the whole front of the house was lighted and there were pipes and fiddles and the sound of voices raised in great merriment.

They jumped down and Steenie tethered his horse, it seemed, to the very ring he’d tied him to that morning when he’d gone to see Sir John.

He knocked at the door and Dougal MacCallum, the butler, opened it.

Steenie looked for the stranger but he was gone.

Dougal led Steenie up into the great oak parlour. And there was as much singing and drinking of wine as there had ever been at Redgauntlet Castle at it’s blithest.

But what a set of ghastly revelers sat around that table. Steenie saw many who’d already left this world, for he’d piped, for the most part in the hall of Redgauntlet.

Sir Robert Redgauntlet sat in the midst of this fearsome gathering.

Steenie advanced to stand by Sir Robert.

Dougal brought a pair of pipes. He nudged Steenie as he handed them to him. Steenie saw that the chanter was of steel and glowing with a white heat, so he’d fair warning not to trust his fingers with it.

Steenie spoke up like a man.

Sir Robert gnashed his teeth and laughed but took from a large pocket book the receipt and handed it to Steenie.

And Steenie turned to leave.

Steenie’s tongue was loosed of a sudden.

He’d no sooner said the word than all was dark and he sank to the earth with such a sudden shock that he lost both breath and consciousness.

How long Steenie lay there, who can tell, but when he came to he found himself lying in the churchyard of Redgauntlet parish, just at the door of the family aisle, and the coat of arms of the old knight, Sir Robert, hanging over his head. There was a deep morning fog on grass and gravestone around him, and his horse was grazing quietly beside the minister’s two cows.

Steenie might have thought everything a dream but he had the receipt in his hand fairly written and signed by the old laird, only the last letters of his name were somewhat disorderly, written like one seized with a sudden pain. Sorely troubled in his mind, he left that dreary place; rode through the mist to Red Gauntlet Castle, and with some difficulty was allowed to speak with the young laird.

Sir John looked at the receipt, and at last the date, which Steenie had not observed, he read it aloud.

You had better tell me the full story Steenie. 

And Steenie told him, much as I have told you, neither more nor less.

Hutcheon told them there was an old turret next to the clock-tower above the battlements that was called of old the Cat’s Cradle. It was only accessible by ladder, for the opening was on the outside.

And Sir John took one of his father’s pistols and hastened to the battlements.

It was a dangerous place to climb for the ladder was old and frail and missing a few rungs. However, up goes Sir John and enters the turret door. Something flies at him and bang! Goes his pistol and Hucheon and Steenie heard a loud scream. A minute latter Sir John throws down the jackanape.

And besides the bag of silver many things were found that had been missing for many a long day. When the turret had been cleared Sir John led Steenie into the great oak parlour and took him by the hand.

With that Steenie agreed that the receipt should be burned, and the laird threw it into the fire with his own hand but it would not burn and it flew up the chimney with a long trail of sparks and a hissing noise like a squib.

Steenie went to see the minister and told him the story. The minister gave his opinion that as Steenie had refused the offer of meat and drink and had refused to do homage by playing the pipes; therefore Satan could take little advantage by what had happened provided Steenie led a good life hereafter.

And Steenie long forswore the pipes and brandy and it was not until the year had passed and the fatal day gone by that he would play the fiddle or drink usquebaugh, whiskey the water of life.

Many believed that the jackanape had taken the silver, that it was not the Old Enemy that Dougal and Hutcheon saw in the laird’s room but Major Weir capering on the laird’s coffin and that the jackanape blowed the old laird’s whistle that was heard after his death.