CHAPTER XVI
VOLNEY'S GUEST
Of all the London beaux not one had apartments more elegant than SirRobert Volney.[3] It was one of the man's vanities to play the part of afop, to disguise his restless force and eager brain beneath the vapidpunctilios of a man of fashion. There were few suspected that his recklessgayety was but a mask to hide a weary, unsatisfied heart, and that thissmiling debonair gentleman with the biting wit was in truth the leasthappy of men. Long he had played his chosen role. Often he doubted whetherthe game were worth the candle, but he knew that he would play it to theend, and since he had so elected would bear himself so that all men shouldmark him. If life were not what the boy Robert Volney had conceived it; iffailure were inevitable and even the fruit of achievement bitter; if hisnature and its enveloping circumstance had proven more strong than hisdim, fast-fading, boyish ideals, at least he could cross the stagegracefully and bow himself off with a jest. So much he owed himself and somuch he would pay.
Something of all this perhaps was in Sir Robert Volney's mind as he lay onthe couch with dreamy eyes cast back into the yesterdays of life, that dimpast which echoed faintly back to him memories of a brave vanished youth.On his lips, no doubt, played the half ironic, half wistful smile whichhad become habitual to the man.
And while with half-shut eyes his mind drifted lazily back to that goldenage forever gone, enter from the inner room, Captain Donald Roy Macdonald,a cocked pistol in his hand, on his head Volney's hat and wig, on his backVolney's coat, on his feet Volney's boots. The baronet eyed the Highlanderwith mild astonishment, then rose to his feet and offered him a chair.
"Delighted, I'm sure," he said politely.
"You look it," drolled Macdonald.
"Off to the wars again, or are you still at your old profession oflifting, my Highland cateran?"
Donald shrugged. "I am a man of many trades. In my day I have beensoldier, sailor, reiver, hunter and hunted, doctor and patient, forby awheen mair. What the gods provide I take."
"Hm! So I see. Prithee, make yourself at home," was Volney's ironicaladvice.
Macdonald fell into an attitude before the glass and admired himselfvastly.
"Fegs, I will that. The small-clothes now-- Are they not an admirable fitwhatever? And the coat-- 'Tis my measure to a nicety. Let me congratulateyou on your tailor. Need I say that the periwig is a triumph of thefriseur's art?"
"Your approval flatters me immensely," murmured Volney, smilingwhimsically. "Faith, I never liked my clothes so well as now. You make anadmirable setting for them, Captain, but the ruffles are somewhat indisarray. If you will permit me to ring for my valet Watkins he will be atyour service. Devil take him, he should have been here an hour ago."
"He sends by me a thousand excuses for his absence. The fact is that he isunavoidably detained."
"Pardon me. I begin to understand. You doubtless found it necessary to puta quietus on him. May one be permitted to hope that you didn't have topistol him? I should miss him vastly. He is the best valet in London."
"Your unselfish attachment to him does you infinite credit, Sir Robert. Itfair brings the water to my een. But it joys me to reassure you at allevents. He is in your bedroom tied hand and foot, biting on a knottedkerchief. I persuaded him to take a rest."
Volney laughed.
"Your powers of persuasion are great, Captain Macdonald. Once youpersuaded me to leave your northern capital. The air, I think you phrasedit, was too biting for me. London too has a climate of its own, a throatdisease epidemic among northerners is working great havoc here now. Onetrusts you will not fall a victim, sir. Have you--er--developed anysymptoms?"
"'Twould nae doubt grieve you sair. You'll be gey glad to learn that thecrisis is past."
"Charmed, 'pon honour. And would it be indiscreet to ask whether you aremaking a long stay in the city?"
"Faith, I wish I knew. Donald Roy wad be blithe to answer no. And thatminds me that I will be owing you an apology for intruding in your rooms.Let the facts speak for me. Stravaiging through the streets with the chasehot on my heels, your open window invited me. I stepped in, footed itup-stairs, and found refuge in your sleeping apartments, where I took theliberty of borrowing a change of clothes, mine being over well known atthe New Prison. So too I purloined this good sword and the pistol. ThatSir Robert Volney was my host I did not know till I chanced on someletters addressed to that name. Believe me, I'm unco sorry to force myselfupon you."
"I felicitate myself on having you as a guest. The vapours had me by thethroat to-night. Your presence is a sufficing tonic for a most oppressiveattack of the blue devils. This armchair has been recommended as an easyone. Pray occupy it."
Captain Roy tossed the pistol on a table and sat him down in the chairwith much composure. Volney poured him wine and he drank; offered himfruit and he ate. Together, gazing into the glowing coals, they suppedtheir mulled claret in a luxurious silence.
The Highlander was the first to speak.
"It's a geyan queer warld this. _Anjour d'hui roi, demain rien._ YestreenI gaped away the hours in a vile hole waiting for my craig (neck) to beraxed (twisted); the night I drink old claret in the best of companybefore a cheery fire. The warm glow of it goes to my heart after that dankcell in the prison. By heaven, the memory of that dungeon sends a shiverdown my spine."
"To-morrow, was it not, that you were to journey to Tyburn and from thenceacross the Styx?"
"Yes, to-morrow, and with me as pretty a lot of lads as ever threw steelacross their hurdies. My heart is wae for them, the leal comrades who havelain out with me in the heather many a night and watched the stars comeout. There's Montagu and Creagh now! We three have tholed together emptywame and niddering cold and the weariness o' death. The hurly o' thewhistling claymore has warmed our hearts; the sight of friends stark fromlead and steel and rope has garred them rin like water. God, it makes mefeel like a deserter to let them take the lang journey alane. Did you kenthat the lad came back to get me from the field when I was wounded atDrummossie Moor?"
"Montagu? I never heard that."
"Took his life in his hand to come back to that de'il's caldron where thered bluid ran like a mountain burn. It iss the boast of the Macdonaldsthat they always pay their debts both to friend and foe. Fine have I paidmine. He will be thinking me the true friend in his hour of need,"finished Donald bitterly.
"You don't know him. The temper of the man is not so grudging. His joy inyour escape will help deaden his own pain. Besides, what could you do forhim if you were with him at the end? 'Twould be only one more sacrifice."
The grim dour Highland sternness hung heavy on Donald's face.
"I could stand shoulder to shoulder with him and curse the whigs at allevents. I could cry with him 'God save King James' in the teeth of thesidier roy."
Volney clapped his hands softly. "Hear, hear!" he cried with flaming eyes."Almost thou persuadest me to be a Jacobite."
The Gael turned to him impetuously, his blue eyes (as I conceive) moistwith emotion.
"Man, could I persuade you to be saving the lad? It was for this that Iwaited in your rooms to see you. They say that you are a favourite ofprinces, that what you ask you get. Do for once a fine thing and ask thisboy's life."
"They exaggerate my power. But for argument's sake suppose it true. Whyshould I ask it? What have I to gain by it?"
Volney, his eyes fixed on the fire, asked the question as much to himselfas to the Highlander. The manner of his tone suggested that it was not anew one to him.
"Gain! Who spoke of gain? Are you a Jew peddler or an English gentleman?"cried Donald.
"They call me dissolute, gambler, profligate. These be hard names, but Ihave earned them all. I make no apologies and offer no excuses. As I havelived my life, so have I lived it. For buttered phrases I have no taste.Call me libertine, or call me man of fashion; 'tis all one. My evilnature--_C'est plus fort que moi_. At least I have not played thehypocrite. No canting sighs! No lapses to morality and prayers! No vicessm
ugly hidden! The plain straight road to hell taken at a gallop!" So,with chin in hand and dark eyes lit by the flickering flame, this roue andsentimentalist philosophized.
"And Montagu?" cried the Gael, harking back to his prosaic text.
"Has made his bed and he must lie in it."
"By Heaven, who ruined him and made an outlaw of him? Who drove him torebellion?"
"You imply that I strewed his bed with nettles. Perhaps. 'Tis well myshoulders are broad, else they could not bear all that is laid uponthem."
"You would never be letting a petty private grudge influence you?"
Volney turned, stung to the quick.
"You go too far, Captain Macdonald. Have I given bonds to save this foolfrom the consequences of his folly? I cherish no hatred toward him, but Iplay no Jonathan to his David. Egad, it were a pretty role for me toessay! You would cast me for a part full of heroics, the moving of heavenand earth to save my dearest enemy. Thank you, I am not for it. Neitherfor nor against him will I lift a hand. There is no malice in my hearttoward this poor condemned young gentleman. If he can win free I shall beglad, even though his gain is my loss, but further than that I will notgo. He came between me and the thing I most desired on earth. Shall I helphim to the happiness which will condemn me to misery?"
For an instant the habitual veil of mockery was snatched aside and thetortured soul of the man leaped from his burning eyes.
"You saved him at Portree," was all that Donald could say.
"I paid a debt to him and to Cumberland. The ledger is now balanced."
The Jacobite paced up and down the room for a minute, then stopped andtouched the other on his shoulder where he sat.
"I too am somewhat in your debt, Sir Robert. When Montagu opposed you hefought for his own hand. Therein he was justified. But I, an outsider,interfered in a quarrel that was not mine own, spoiled sport for you, inshort lost you the lassie. You followed her to Scotland; 'twas I thatdrove you back to England when Montagu was powerless. From first to last Iam the rock on which your love bark has split. If your cause has spelledfailure I alone am to blame."
"So? What then?"
"Why this: without Captain Donald Roy Macdonald the lad had been helpless.Donald was at his back to whisper words of advice and encouragement.Donald contrived the plot which separated you from the lady. Donald stoodgood fairy to the blessed pair of bairns and made of himsel' amatch-making auld mither. You owe your hatred to Donald Roy and not to thelad who was but his instrument."
The macaroni looked at the other with an odd smile twitching at thecorners of his mouth.
"And so?"
"And so," continued the Macdonald triumphantly, a challenge in his voiceand manner, "and so, who but Donald should be your enemy? My certes, aprettier foe at the broadsword you will not find in a' Scotland."
"I do not quite take your meaning. Would you fight with me?"
"Blithe would I be to cross the steel with you, but little that would helpKenneth. My plan is this: save the lad from the halter and I will tak' hisplace."
"You mean that if I compass his freedom you will surrender to beexecuted?"
"I am meaning just that."
"I thought so from the first. 'Slife, man, do you think I can change myfoes like gloves? _Chacun paie son ecot._"
"Why not? Iss not a man a better foe than a halfling boy?"
"I would never seek a better foe or a better friend than either you orMontagu, Captain. On my soul, you have both the true ring. But as to youroffer I must decline it. The thing is one of your wild impracticableHighland imaginings, a sheer impossibility. You seem to think I have ablood feud and that nothing less than a foeman's life will satisfy me. Inthat you err. I am a plain man of the world and cannot reach yourheroics."
The Jacobite's face fell.
"You are going to let the boy die then?"
Volney hesitated, then answered with a shrug.
"I shall be frank with you. To-day I secured Montagu a reprieve for twoweeks. He shall have his chance such as it is, but I do not expect him totake it. If he shows stubborn I wash my hands of him. I have said the lastword. You may talk till Yule without changing my mind." Then, with anabrupt turn of the subject: "Have you with you the sinews of war, Captain?You will need money to effect your escape. My purse is at your service notless than my wardrobe, or if you care to lie hidden here for a time youwill be quite safe. Watkins is a faithful fellow and devoted to me."
The Highlander flushed, stammering out:
"For your proffered loan, I accept it with the best will in the world; andas to your offer of a hiding-place, troth! I'm badly needing one. Gin itwere no inconvenience----"
"None in the world."
"I will be remembering you for a generous foe till the day of my death.You're a man to ride the water wi'."
"Lard! There's no generosity in it. Every Mohawk thinks it a pleasure tohelp any man break the laws. Besides, I count on you to help drive awaythe doldrums. Do you care for a hand at piquet now, Captain?"
"With pleasure. I find in the cartes great diversion, but by your leaveI'll first unloose your man Watkins."
"'Slife, I had forgot him. We'll have him brew us a punch and make a nightof it. Sleep and I are a thousand miles apart."
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[3] The material for this chapter was furnished me with great particularity by Captain Donald Roy Macdonald. From his narrative to me, I set down the story in substance as he told it. --K. M.