"Oh, Master John! never, never did man fight better, and you may comfort your heart with the name he made for you this night."
"'GIVE UP YOUR SWORD LIKE A GENTLEMAN'""'GIVE UP YOUR SWORD LIKE A GENTLEMAN'"
I could see it all clearly: that scoundrel, Allan Knock, set on by Creach, had been on our track ever since we left Skye, and knowing of our return from the ship through his spies, had thought to have taken me, or both of us, at Crowlin; the rest was plain from Neil's story, and it was only through the mistake of the English captain that my father had closed his eyes in my arms.
By the goodness of God, when I knelt beside the man so dear to me, I found him still alive, though wounded so that at the first sight, I saw even to raise him meant a quicker death.
The moment I spoke he opened his eyes. "Ah, Giovannini, my son," he said, in a voice surprisingly strong, "it was a grand fight!" And then, after a moment, "It was a pretty fight until they put an end to it with their shooting. But, poor creatures, I drove them to it. They couldn't get in at me in any other way."
"Oh, Father," I cried, "why didn't you tell them who you were?"
"I've been borrowing names all along," he said, drowsily; "tell Lynch I kept his. I didn't make a bad use of yours either," he said, very slowly, and seemed to doze.
We raised his head more and covered him with the plaids.
In a little while he woke up quite clear. "Giovannini, lad, what of things at home?"
I told him, and he muttered a short prayer to himself, and then went on: "I am thankful I have neither kith nor kin, and not a soul to give a thought to my going to-night save yourself. But that is much—is dear to me. What claim has a wandering priest save on his God, and your being with me is the excess of His goodness.
"Now don't be fretting about the way my end has come; it was as much God's work to bar the door by my sword, and keep the father in peace with the son, as to stand beside His Altar."
And then the drowsiness began to steal on him again, but he roused himself to say, as if in answer to my sorrow, "Courage, lad, courage; the sun has not gone because a rushlight is snuffed out."
It was a long time before he spoke again, and then it was in the same quiet voice.
"'Tis a strange pass to come to a man who a few years ago thought of nothing more dangerous than the sunny side of a street! But, do you know, I always believed I had a bit of the soldier in me. Many a time have my fingers itched for a sword-hilt when I thought I might have done more than praying, and now it has been given to me, and I have done it well. I can say with St. Paul, 'I have fought a good fight' (Bonum certamen certavi)"—and these were the last words that brave heart said on earth.
We bore him home to Crowlin on our shoulders, and laid him and my father side by side in the one grave, where my tears and those of the children fell on both alike.
Broken as I was in every way, I had to think and act, for the same necessities were before me. So after seeing my uncles, Allan and Alexander, the nearest relations left to the children, and making some provision for their safety, I returned again to the coast near Loch Carron, for I could now move with greater freedom until such time as the real facts of my supposed death at the Black Pass might be discovered.
Not more than ten days went by before I had news of two ships hanging off the land, and I arranged to board them should they come close enough to signal. This they did, and I found them to be thePrincesse de ContiandL'Hereux, from St. Maloes, under command of Colonel Warren, of Dillon's Regiment, expressly come and determined to carry the Prince back with him at all hazards.
I told him of our disappointment of theAlerte, and, in accordance with the instructions from Glenaladale, we stood south for Arisoig, and I was put on shore near Loch-na-Neugh. I found Glenaladale without difficulty, but to our uneasiness there was still the same uncertainty about the Prince; and at first the search brought no result, but by chance he got the information necessary, and the joyful news of the vessels' arrival was carried in all haste to the "Wanderer."
It was late at night—the night of the nineteenth of September—when we came to Borodale, where a numerous company had gathered awaiting him. He was accompanied by Lochiel, now nearly recovered, his brother the Doctor, and others; but my heart was sore when I heard of the condition he was in, although far better than what he had known for months. However, Glenaladale said he was in grand health and spirits, and clean linen, a tailor, and a barber, would soon change him into as gallant a looking gentleman as ever stepped in the Three Kingdoms.
I could not go near the house, and begged Glenaladale not to mention my name to the Prince until they sailed, and then only that the Duke might know I had at least kept my promise not to leave Scotland while the Prince was in danger. My trouble was too heavy upon me for the drinking of healths, and I had no heart for the framing of encouragements.
From where I sate I could see the lighted windows in the house darken as figures crossed them. I could even catch faint snatches of song, and with some envy in my heart for those who could so rejoice, when behind them was ruin and before only the uncertain safety of the two ships I could faintly make out against the dark waters of the Loch. As for me, the whole world seemed closing down in the darkness, and I could see no cheer and no light beyond. My thoughts were the formless thoughts of a hopeless man, and they were my only companions till the dawn broke and the embarkation began.
Then my broken thoughts took shape. What place had I among these men? They had fought, and, if they had lost, had lost gallantly, without reproach, and were still about their leader, while I had never even drawn my sword for the Cause I loved as truly as any of them all, and my efforts had only ended in failure in every particular. I was a broken man, and the best friend I had in the world was lying, murdered for my sake, in his unconsecrated grave at Crowlin.
Those were the blackest hours that ever had come to me, and I would not wish my worst enemy to pass through the like.
I counted over one hundred who passed to the ships until the Prince, Lochiel, and their immediate following appeared. Then I rose and stood bareheaded, and I remember it was in the Gaelic my mother had taught me that the words came when I prayed aloud for his safety. Poor, ill-fated, Bonnie, Bonnie Prince Charlie! All the gallantry, all the fortitude, all the sensibility with which God Almighty ever dowered human creature had been shewn forth by him from the hour his misfortune came upon him, in a measure that redeemed his former faults, and should blot out all that followed the day he sailed from Loch-na-Neugh.
Bareheaded I stood and watchedL'Hereuxand thePrincesse de Contiget under weigh, until I could not bear to look at them longer and threw myself face downwards amid the heather.
At length sleep came to me, and when I awoke the quiet of the night was again about me, and I rose and took my way alone.
I now settled myself at Loch Carron, and was visited by such as knew of my whereabouts, who did what they could to raise my spirits, and, amongst others, by Dr. McDonald, of Kylles.
One afternoon, when out fishing with him at the entrance of the Loch, we were surprised by the appearance round a headland of a sloop of war, which we at once recognized as thePorcupine, Captain Ferguson, well known on the coast for his activity in the apprehension of suspected Jacobites.
To attempt to escape was only to invite pursuit and ensure certain capture, so we put a bold face on the matter, and the Doctor, without hesitation, stood up and signalled to her with his hat.
"Ferguson will not molest me, if he has any bowels at all, for I did him a good turn this summer when I set his arm for him in Knoidart," said the Doctor.
"That is all very well, but what of me?" I asked. "I am in no state to go on board. I am dressed like a ploughman."
"Well! what better would you wish? You have nothing to do but hold your tongue, for you don't know a word of English. I'll tell Ferguson I am short of lemons and sugar, and appeal to him not to drive me to drinking my whiskey pure. I know the idea of a rebel coming on board a King's ship on such an errand will tickle his fancy, for he is not such a monster as they report. In any case, we can do nothing else."
There was nothing for it but to go on, and in truth the matter did not appear in any way serious, so I rowed on towards the sloop, which was coming up smartly, and before many minutes we were alongside, the Doctor shouting out his instructions to me in Gaelic.
It turned out much as he had said, for Captain Ferguson laughed heartily when he whispered his message, and invited him into his cabin to have a glass together, whilst I waited on deck.
Now, unfortunately, the Doctor had a strong taste for conviviality, which was part reason why his story of the lemons was so easily swallowed, and one glass followed another, until I could see that he was getting well into his cups.
I was anxious to be away, and so ventured to speak to him at the door, saying, by way of excuse, that the weather looked threatening; but he only pooh-poohed the matter, and I saw he was further gone than I supposed, and so spoke with more sharpness than I intended.
"That's a pretty kind of servant, 'pon my word!" said the Captain.
"Servant, indeed!" snorted the Doctor, to my dismay. "Servant, indeed! He's as good a gentleman as I am!" and then, sobered at once, as it flashed across his fuddled brain what his words might mean, he went on, earnestly: "You know, Captain, in the Highlands service does not necessarily mean that a man is not a gentleman. Why I have known—" but the Captain cut him short with: "Come, come, Doctor, you can't throw dust in my eyes. 'Tis bad enough to have you here imposing on me on your own account, but I will have no tricks with unknown gentlemen who choose to run their necks into the noose."
The poor Doctor was completely overwhelmed with his blunder, and only made matters worse with every word he uttered; but I refused to open my mouth, and was not sorry when they put him over the side of the ship and we saw him drifting fast astern, still lamenting.
The Captain then turned to me. "Now, sir," said he, "'tis an unpleasant duty to detain you, but I will make your detention as easy as may be. Of course, if you care to explain who you are, and can prove to me that you are innocent and your representations correct, I will put you on shore; if not, you will go with us to Skye, where I will certainly obtain information, so you will gain little by your silence."
However, I did not see fit to answer him, and only stared as if I did not understand a word.
"Very well," said he, "if you will play the servant you will live forward; when you choose to declare yourself a gentleman, I will treat you as leniently as I may."
So forward I went, and gained but little by my obstinacy except uncomfortable quarters and rough company, for we made for Sleat, and there were boarded by Allan Knock. The Captain was convinced he had secured Barisdale in my person, but Knock was forced to declare that he was wrong in this, though he could not name me; but the next day he returned with Creach, before whom I was paraded like a beast on market-day.
The game was up now, but I did not care to speak; indeed, I had nothing to say before such a scoundrel. Words were not what I counted on to settle my reckoning with him.
After they left, Ferguson came up to where I was sitting on deck.
"You are my prisoner, Mr. McDonell," said he.
"On what authority, sir?" said I.
"Oh, ho! You can talk English, I find," he laughed.
"Yes, and perhaps more than you may relish, Captain Ferguson," I replied; "and if English be not sufficient, I have one or two other tongues beside. Now, there is no use in trying to frighten me; I have gone through too much for that. I am an officer in the Spanish service, and have not drawn sword in this quarrel, and if you detain me without any authority or warrant beyond the words of this creature who has just left, I warn you your action is unjustifiable and will be most strictly inquired into."
"Now, now, Mr. McDonell, don't try any of your hectoring with me," he returned. "You can make your complaints when you see London."
"Well, then, London let it be. I have always had a mind to visit it," I answered, shortly, and thereupon our talk ended.
I will do him justice to say he treated me with much civility during the four weeks I was on board thePorcupine—very different treatment from what I received at the hands of Captain Gardner, to whom he handed me over in the Sound of Mull. But this he apologized for before I left him, saying he had only acted under orders, as otherwise, could he have followed his inclination, I would have been of his mess.
However, I will not dwell on these personal inconveniences, and only record a kindness received from Mr. Maitland, a midshipman on board. When orders were received from Edinburgh to land me at Fort William, I took leave of Captain Gardner without any hard feeling on either side, and placed myself in the boat ordered to convey me on shore. The sailors, who were Irish, pitying my situation, said, in that language, if I broke away when I was landed, they would take good care no balls would reach me. But I thanked them, in the same tongue, and assured them I was in no danger.
On taking leave of Mr. Maitland he said, in French, "I suppose you know, Mr. McDonell, to whom you are indebted for this? To Allan McDonald Knock."
"Thank you a thousand times for your interest," I returned, "but I know that already."
I was accordingly imprisoned in Fort William, but suffered little, save from the confinement, which lasted over four months, when, by the exertions of my sister Margaret and her protector, Lady Jane Drummond, I was released.
I then returned to Knoidart, but shortly after, hearing that Allan Knock was at Glenelg, I took Neil and Duncan, his half-brother, and started for that place.
Things fell out better than I had expected, for, by what I have always held to be a direct Providence, no less an enemy than Creach himself was delivered into my hands when I least looked for it. I was on my way to Glenelg, as I say, to meet with Knock, and never thought to meet with the greater villain, Creach, in the country, as I knew he must be aware of my release, and that he would not be safe within my reach. But, by what I am not impious enough to name a chance, when in the house of one of our own people I heard of him being in the neighborhood, and so laid wait in a place by which I knew he must pass, safe from interruption or observation.
When he and his three men came up, we rose, and, planting ourselves in the way, called a halt.
I have spoken before of his address, and even now it did not fail him, for I could mark no sign of surprise on his white face; he might have come to a rendezvous for all he shewed.
I spoke at once to his men in Gaelic, who held themselves ready for attack the moment we appeared.
"Skye men! I am a McDonell, of Glengarry. I and mine have no quarrel with you, but this gentleman and I have a matter of blood between us. Take no part in it, then, for it is no affair of yours, and it will not be stayed in any case."
Then, either because they had small stomach for useless fighting, or, what is the more likely, that they saw it was a private matter and did not touch their honour, they drew to one side in silence with Neil and Duncan.
Creach understood what I was at, and as I threw off my coat and vest he did the like.
A fierce joy was rising in me. "Come, sir!" I said, and he fell into position.
He was a good swordsman enough, but my wrist was of iron and my heart of fire, and the tinkle and grate of the steel was like music to my ear.
He was fighting for time, waiting to see my play, and parried with great judgment, but at last I reached in at him and touched him above the right breast.
"That is for Aquapendente!" I cried, in satisfaction, as I saw the stain grow and redden on his shirt.
In a little I touched him again, on the opposite side. "That is for Rome!" and I was completely master of myself, for I held his life in my hands, like a ball, to throw away when I pleased.
He said not a word, but fought on with the same courage, but it was hopeless. Again I got in at him just where I had planned, and shouted in my joy, "That is for Loch Broom!"
"HE WAS FIGHTING FOR TIME""HE WAS FIGHTING FOR TIME"
Up to this time he had not shewn the slightest sign of faltering, but now in a sudden move backwards he struck his heel sharply and staggered wide. I could have run him through with the greatest ease, but I was not ready for that as yet. He regained his feet, but to my dismay and surprise the shock had broken his courage, like a glass that is shattered, and he fenced so wildly that I withheld from attack, hoping he would recover. Instead of this he only grew worse, until, losing hope of any betterment, I locked his sword, and with a sudden turn broke it short off. With a groan, the first sound he had uttered, he fell, and covered his face with his hands.
I stood over him, and had he screamed or made a move I would have ended it then and there. But I could not kill the creature lying, waiting his fate in mute terror at my feet, though for months I had longed for this moment above all things else in the world.
"Get up, you coward!" I said, but he made no move. Suddenly I threw my sword down, and, stepping towards him, drew my dirk, at which he screamed and prayed for mercy with shrieks of terror.
"Have no fear, you dog! I am not going to put murder on my soul for a wretch such as you! But I will mark you so that you will be a by-word amongst men for the rest of your days!"
Whereupon I seized him, and, despite his screams and struggles, with two clean sweeps I cut off his ears close to his head.
Leaving him rolling on the ground, I called Neil and bade him bind up his wounds. Then, placing his ears in my silver snuff-box, I threw it to him. "Take these to your fellow-spy, and tell him whose hand did this! Tell him, too, that his own run much danger of a like fate if they hear aught he may ever be tempted to repeat to the harm of me or mine!"
My story is told. I did meet with Allan Knock, and I did not cut off his ears; but I poured into them words that made him wish he had been born without.
Because I have lived on into a time that has changed much from what I knew in those days, I have sometimes felt I should have killed Creach, instead of taking a revenge which may now be looked on as barbarous. But those who know will understand, and those who do not, I must leave to their prejudice. I have tried to tell things as they were, without excuse.
FINIS