When Claverhouse, in the height of summer, started on his last campaign and descended on Blair Athole, he carried himself as one in the highest spirits and a.s.sured of triumph. He sent word everywhere that things were going well with the cause, and that the whole world was with him; he made no doubt of crushing MacKay if he opposed his march into the Lowlands, and of entering Edinburgh after another fashion than he had left it. He kept a bold front, and wrote in a buoyant style; but this was partly the pride of his house, and partly the tactics of a desperate leader. Though a bigot to his cause, Graham was not a madman. He was a thorough believer in the power of guerrilla troops, but he knew that in the end they would go down before the regulars. He hoped, by availing himself of the hot courage of the clansmen, to deal a smashing blow at his old rival, but unless the Lowlands and the regulars joined James's side, there was not the remotest chance of unseating William from his new throne. His words were high, but his heart was anxious, as he hurried with his little army to strike once at least for the king, and to make his last adventure. He had decided on the line of march to be taken next morning, and the place where he would join issue with MacKay, who was coming up from Perth with a small army of regular troops, many of whom were veterans. He had discussed the matter with his staff, and settled with the jealous and irascible chiefs as best he could the position they were to take on the battle-field, and he had fallen into a fit of gloomy meditation, when Grimond entered the room in Blair Castle, where Dundee had his headquarters for the night.

If Grimond, for pure malice or even for jealousy, had invented that unhappy interview between Lady Dundee and Livingstone, or if it had been shown that he had by a word perverted the conversation, then his master, who had sent many a Covenanter to death, because he loved his religion more than King James, would have shot even that faithful servant without scruple and with satisfaction. But it was in keeping with the chivalry of Dundee--his sense of justice, his appreciation of loyalty, and his admiration for thoroughness--that he took no revenge for his own madness upon the unwitting cause thereof. During the brief stay at Glenogilvie, Grimond hid himself with discretion, so that neither his master nor mistress either saw or heard of him, and when Dundee left his home with his men, Grimond was not in the company. But as a dog which is not sure of a welcome from its master, or rather expects a blow and yet cannot leave him or let him go alone, will suddenly join him on the road by which he is making his journey, and will follow him distantly, but ever keep him in sight, so Jock was found one morning among the troopers.

He kept as far from his master as he could and was careful not to obtrude himself or offer to resume a servant's duty. Dundee's face hardened at the sight of him, but he said no word, and Jock made no approach. With wise discretion he remained at a distance, and seemed anxious to be forgotten, but he had his own plan of operations.

One morning Dundee found his bits and stirrups and the steel work of his horse furnishing polished and glittering as they had not been since he rode to Glenogilvie, and he suspected that an old hand had been at work. Another day his cuira.s.s was so well and carefully done, his uniform so perfectly brushed and laid out, and his lace cravat so skilfully arranged that he was certain Grimond was doing secret duty. Day by day the signs of his attention grew more frequent and visible, till at last one morning he appeared in person, and without remark began to a.s.sist his master with his arms. Nothing pa.s.sed between them, and for weeks relations were very strained, but before the end Grimond knew that he had been forgiven for his superfluity of loyalty, and Dundee was thankful that, as the shadows settled upon his life blacker and deeper every day, one honest man was his companion, and would remain true when every fair-weather friend and false schemer had fled. One can make excuses for jealousy when it is another name for love; one may not quarrel with doggedness when it is another name for devotion. There are not too many people who have in them the heart to be faithful unto death, not too many who will place one's interest before their own life. When one's back is at the wall, and he is not sure even of his nearest, he will not despise or quarrel with the roughest or plainest man who will stand by his side and share his lot, either of life or death. So Jock was reinstated without pardon asked or given, and with no reference to the tragedy of Glenogilvie, and Dundee knew that he had beside him a faithful and fearless watchdog of the tough old Scottish breed. As Grimond busied himself with preparations for the evening meal--among other dark suspicions he had taken into his head that Dundee might be poisoned--his master's eye fell on him, and at the sight memory woke. John Graham recalled the days when Grimond received him from the charge of his nurse, and took him out upon the hills round Glenogilvie. How he taught him to catch trout with his own hands below the big stones of the burn, how he told him the names of the wild birds and their ways, how he gave him his first lesson in sport, how one day he saved his life, when he was about to be gored by an infuriated bull. All the kindness of this hard man and his thoughtfulness, all his faithfulness and unselfishness, touched Dundee's heart--a heart capable of affection for a few, though it could never be called tender, and capable of sentiment, though rather that which is bound up with a cause than with a person.

"Jock," said Graham, with a certain accent of former days and kindly doings. Now, a person's name may mean anything according to the way in which it is p.r.o.nounced. It may be an accusation, a rebuke, an insult, a threat, or it may be an appeal, a thanksgiving, a benediction, a caress. And at the sound of the word, said more kindly than he had ever heard it, Grimond turned him round and looked at his master; his grim, lean, weather-beaten face relaxed and softened and grew almost gentle.

"Maister John, Maister John," and suddenly he did a thing incredible for his undemonstrative, unsentimental, immovable granite nature. He knelt down beside Dundee, and seizing his hand, kissed it, while tears rolled down his cheeks. "My laddie, and my lord, baith o' them, this is the best day o' my life, for ye've forgiven me my terrible mistake, and my sin against my mistress. It's sore against my grain to confess that I was wrang, for it's been my infirmity to be always richt, but I sinned in this matter grievously, and micht have done what could never be put richt. But oh! my lord, it was a' for love's sake, for though I be only a serving man to the house of Graham, I dare to say I have been faithful. With neither wife nor child, I have nothing but you, my lord, and I have nothing to live for but your weel. When ye were angry wi' me I didna blame you, I c.o.o.nted ye just, but 'twas to me as when the sun gaes behind the clouds. I cared neither to eat nor drink--had it not been for your sake, I didna care to live. But noo, when ye've buried the past and taken me back into your favor, I'm in the licht again, and I carena what happens to me, neither hardship nor death. Oh! my loved lord, will ye call me Jock again? When the severe and self-contained Lowland Scot takes fire, there is such strength of fuel in him, that he burns into white heat, and there is no quenching of the flame. And at that moment Graham understood, as he had only imagined before, the pa.s.sion which can be concealed in the heart of a Scots retainer.

"Get up, Jock, you old fool and--my trusty friend." Claverhouse concealed but poorly behind his banter the emotion of his heart, for Jock had found him in a lonely mood.

"You and me are no made for kneeling, except to our Maker and our king. Faith, I judge we are better at the striking. Aye, we are friends again, and shall be till the end, which I am thinking may not be far off. Ye gave me a bitter time, the like of which I never had before, and beside which death, when it comes, will be welcome, but ye did it not in baseness, but in all honesty. It was our calamity. Life, Jock, is full o' sic calamities, and we are all for the maist part at cross purposes. It seemeth to me as if we were travelling in the darkness, knowing not whether the man beside us be friend or foe, and often striking at our friends by mistake. But we must march on till the day breaks.

"It'll break for us soon, at any rate," went on Dundee, "for by to-morrow night the matter will be settled between General MacKay and me. Div ye mind, Jock, how I fain would have fought with him at The Hague, and he wouldna take my challenge?"

"Cowardly and cold-blooded Whig like the lave o' them," burst out Jock, in a strong reaction from his former mood of tenderness. "Leave him to look after himsel', he micht have stood mair nor once thae last weeks and faced ye like a man, but would he? Na, na, he ran afore ye, and I doot sair whether he will give you a chance to-morrow."

"Have no fear of that, Jock, we've waited long for our duel, but, ye may take my word for it, it will come off at Killiecrankie before the sun goes down again behind the hills. There will be a fair field and a free fight, and the best man will win; and, Jock, I will not be sorry when the sun sets. What ails you, Jock, for your face is downcast?

That didna used to be the way with you in the low country on the prospect of battle. Div ye mind Seneffe and the gap in the wall?"

"Fine, my lord, fine, and I'll acknowledge that I've nae rooted objection in principle or in practice to fechtin'--that is, when it's to serve a richt cause and there be a good chance o' victory, to say nothing o' profit. But a' thing maun be fair and aboveboard, and I'm dootin' whether that will be the case the mornin'. What I'm feared o'

is no war, but black murder." And there was an earnestness in Grimond's tone which arrested Dundee.

"My lord," said Jock, in answer to the interrogation on his master's face, "I came here to speak, if Providence gave me the chance, for aifter all that has happened, I didna consider your ear would be open to hear me. When a man has made as big a mistake as I have dune, and caused as muckle sorrow, it behooves him to walk softly, and this is pairt of his judgment that them he loves most may trust him least.

"Na, na, my lord," for the face of Dundee was beginning again to blacken. "I've no a word to say against her ladyship. I gather she has been doing what she can for the cause wi' them slippery rascals o'

dragoons and their Laodicean commander, of whom I have my ain thoughts. I fear me, indeed, to say what I have found, and what I am suspecting, for ye hae reason to conclude that my head is full o'

plots, and that broodin' ower treachery has made me daft."

"What is it now, Jock?" in a tone between amus.e.m.e.nt and seriousness.

"Ye havena found a letter from Lochiel to the Prince of Orange, offering to win the reward upon my head, or caught General MacKay, dressed in a ragged kilt, stealing about through the army? Out with it, and let us know the worst at once."

"Ye are laughin', Maister John, and I will not deny ye have justification. I wish to G.o.d I be as far frae the truth this time as I was last time, but there is some thin' gaein' on in the camp that bodes nae gude to yersel', and through you to the cause. It was not for naethin' I watched two of our new recruits for days, and heard a snap o' their conversation yesterday on the march."

"I'll be bound, Jock, ye heard some wild talk, for I doubt our men are readier with an oath than a Psalm and a loose story than a sermon.

But we must just take them as they come--rough men for rough work, and desperate men for a wild adventure."

"Gude knows, my ears are weel accustomed to the clatter of the camp, and it's no a coa.r.s.e word here or there would offend Jock Grimond. But the men I mean are of the other kind; they speak like gentlefolk, and micht, for the manner o' them, sit wi' her ladyship in Dudhope Castle."

"Broken gentlemen, very likely, Jock. There have always been plenty in our ranks. Surely you are not going to make that a crime at this time of the day. If I had five hundred of that kidney behind me, I would drive MacKay--horse, foot and bits of artillery--like chaff before the wind. A gentleman makes a good trooper, and when he has nothing to lose, he's the very devil to fight."

"But that's no a' else. I wouldna have troubled you, my lord, but the two are aye the-gither, and keep in company like a pair o' dogs poachin'. They have the look o' men who are on their gaird, and are feared o' bein' caught by surprise. According to their story they had served with Livingstone's dragoons, and had come over to us because they were for the good cause. But ain o' Livingstone's lads wha deserted at the same time, and has naethin' wrong wi' him except that he belongs to Forfar and has a perpetual drouth, tells me that our twa friends were juist in and oot, no mair than a week wi' the dragoons.

My idea is that they went wi' Livingstone to get to us. And what for--aye, what for?"

"For King James, I should say, and a bellyful of fighting," said Dundee carelessly.

"Maybe ye're richt, and if so, there's no mischief done; and maybe ye're wrang, and if so, there will be black trouble. At ony rate, I didna like the story, and I wasna taken wi' the men. No that they're bad-lookin', but they're after some ploy. Weel, they ride by themsel's, and they camp by themsel's, and they eat by themsel's, and they sleep by themsel's. So this midday, when we halt.i.t, they made off to the bank o' the river, and settled themsel's ablow a tree, and by chance a burn ran into the river there wi' a high bank on the side next them. Are ye listenin', my lord?"

"Yes, yes," said Dundee, whose thoughts had evidently been far away, and who was attaching little importance to Jock's groundless fears.

"Go on. So you did a bit of scouting, I suppose?"

"I did," said Jock, with some pride, "and they never jaloused wha was lying close beside them, like a tod (fox) in his hole. I'm no prepared to say that I could catch a' their colloguing, but I got enough to set me thinkin'. Juist bits, but they could be pieced togither."

"Well," said Dundee, with more interest, "what were the bits?"

"The one asks the other where he keeps his pa.s.s. 'Sown in the lining of my coat,' says he. 'Where's yours?' 'In my boot,' answers he, 'the safest place.' Who gave them the pa.s.ses, thinks I to myself, and what are they hiding them for? So I c.o.c.ks both my ears to hear the rest."

"And what was that, Jock?" And Dundee now was paying close attention.

"For a while they spoke so low I could only hear, 'This underhand work goes against my stomach.' 'Aha, my lad, so it's underhand,' says I in my hole. 'It's worth the doing,' says the other, 'and a big stroke of work if we succeed. It might be a throne one way or other.' 'Not to us,' laughs the first. 'No,' says his friend, 'but we'll have our share.' 'This is no ordinary work,' says I to mysel', and I risked my ears out of the hole. 'It's no an army,' says one o' them, 'but juist a rabble, and a' depends on one man.' 'You're right there,' answers the other, 'if he falls all is over.' Then they said something to one another I couldn't catch, and then one stretched himself, as I took it by his kicking a stone into the river, and rose, saying, 'By heaven!

we'll manage it.' The other laughed as he rose too, and as they went away the last words I heard were, 'The devil, Jack, is more likely to be our friend.' Notice this, my lord, every word in the English tongue, as fine and smooth spoken as ye like. Where did they come from, and what are they after? Aye, and wha is to fall, that's the question, my lord?"

Dundee started, for Jock's story had unloosed a secret fear in his mind, which he had often banished, but which had been returning with great force. As a band holds together the sheaf of corn, so he alone kept King James's army. Apart from him there was no cohesion, and apart from him there was no commander. With his death, not only would the forces disperse, but the cause of King James would be ended. If he were out of the way, William would have no other cause for anxiety, and he knew the determined and cold-blooded character of his former master. William had given him his chance, and he had not taken it. He would have no more scruple in a.s.sa.s.sinating his opponent than in brushing a fly off the table. Instead of gathering an army and fighting him through the Highlands and Lowlands, just one stroke of a dirk or a pistol bullet and William is secure on his throne. "Jock may be right for once," said Claverhouse to himself, "and, by heaven! if I am to fall, I had rather be shot in front than behind." He wrote an order to the commander of the cavalry, and in fifteen minutes the two troopers were standing before him disarmed and guarded.

The moment Dundee looked at them he knew that Jock was correct in saying that they were not common soldiers, for they had the unmistakable manner of gentlemen, and as soon as they spoke he also knew that they were Englishmen. One was tall and fair, with honest blue eyes, which did not suggest treachery, the other was shorter and dark, with a more cautious and uncertain expression.

"For certain reasons, gentlemen," said Dundee, with emphasis upon the word, "I desire by your leave to ask you one or two questions. If you will take my advice, you had better answer truthfully. I will not waste time about things I know. What brought you from Livingstone's dragoons to us? why were ye so short a time with them? and why did ye leave the English army? Tell no lies, I pray you. I can see that ye are soldiers and have been officers. Why are you with us in the guise of troopers?"

"You know so much, my lord," said the taller man, with that outspoken candor which is so taking, "that I may as well tell you all. We have held commissions in the army, and are, I suppose, officers to-day, though they will be wondering where we are, and we should be shot if we were caught. You will excuse me giving our names, for they could not be easily kept. We belong to families which have ever been true to their king, and we came north to take a share in the good work. That is the only way that we could manage it, and we do not fancy it overmuch, but we have taken our lives in our hands for the adventure."

"You are men of spirit, I can see," said Dundee ironically, "but ye are wise men also, and have reduced your risks. Would you do me the favor of showing the pa.s.ses with which you provided yourselves before leaving England? Save yourselves the trouble of--argument. One of you has got his pa.s.s in his coat, and the other in his boot. I'm sure you would not wish to be stripped."

The shorter man colored with vexation and then paled, but the other only laughed like a boy caught in a trick, and said, "There are quick eyes, or, more likely, quick ears, in this army, my lord." Then, without more ado, they handed Lord Dundee the pa.s.ses. "As I expected,"

said Dundee, "to the officers of King William's army, and to allow the bearers to go where they please, and signed by his Majesty's secretary of state." And Dundee looked at them with a mocking smile.

"d.a.m.n those pa.s.ses!" said the spokesman with much geniality. "I always thought we should have destroyed them once we were safely through the other lines, but my friend declared they might help us afterwards in time of need."

"And now, gentlemen, they are going to hang you, for shooting is too honorable for spies and, worse than spies, a.s.sa.s.sins, for," concluded Dundee softly, "it was to shoot me you two loyal Cavaliers have come."

The shorter man was about to protest, in hope of saving his life, but his comrade waved him to be silent, and for the last time took up the talk.

"We are caught in a pretty coil, my lord. Circ.u.mstances are against us, and we have nothing to put on the other side, except our word of honor as gentlemen. Neither my comrade nor I are going to plead for our lives, though we don't fancy being hung. But perhaps of your courtesy, if we write our names, you will allow a letter to go to General MacKay, and that canting Puritan will be vastly amused when he learns that he had hired us to a.s.sa.s.sinate my Lord Dundee. He will be more apt to consider our execution an act of judgment for joining the Malignants. We got our pa.s.ses by trickery from Lord Nottingham, and they have tricked us, and, by the G.o.ds! the whole affair is a fine jest, except the hanging. I would rather it had been shooting, but I grant that if MacKay had sent us on such an errand, both he and we deserve to be hung." And the Englishman shrugged his shoulders as one who had said his last word and accepted his fate.

He carried himself so bravely, with such an ingenuous countenance and honest speech, that Claverhouse was interested in the man, and the reference to MacKay arrested him in his purpose. They were not likely to have come on such an errand from MacKay's camp without the English general knowing what they were about. Was MacKay the man to sanction a proceeding so cowardly and so contrary to the rules of war? Of all things in the world, was not this action the one his principles would most strongly condemn? Certainly their conversation by the riverside had been suspicious, but then Grimond had made one hideous mistake before. It was possible that he had made another. Graham had insulted his loyal wife through Grimond's blundering; it would be almost as bad if he put to an ignominious death two adventurous, blundering English Cavaliers. He ordered that the Englishmen should be kept under close arrest till next morning, and he sent the following letter by a swift messenger and under flag of truce to the general of the English forces.

BLAIR CASTLE, _July 26, 1689_.

_To Major-General Hugh MacKay, Commanding the forces in the interests of the Prince of Orange._

SIR: It is years since we have met and many things have happened since, but I freely acknowledge that you have ever been a good soldier and one who would not condescend to dishonor. And this being my mind I crave your a.s.sistance in the following matter.

Two English officers have been arrested in disguise and carrying compromising pa.s.ses; there is reason to believe that their errand was to a.s.sa.s.sinate me, and if this be the case they shall be hung early to-morrow morning.

Albeit we were rivals in the Low Country and will soon fight our duel to the death, I am loath to believe that this thing is true of you, and I will ask of you this last courtesy, for your sake and mine and that of the two Englishmen, that ye tell me the truth.

I salute you before we fight and I have the honor to be,

Your most obedient servant,