CHAPTER XX
THE COUNCIL AT DERBY
It was a relief to get into the chock-full streets of the town, wherethinking was impossible and good round cursing indispensable. Even withits aid in clearing a course for him, Sultan tumbled over a brace ofHighlanders, two of a swarm of Maclachlans and Macdonalds who weredisputing possession of a cutler's shop on the corner of Bag Street. Aftertheir native fashion, they immediately suspended their quarrel to uniteagainst a common foe, but on a Maclachlan recognizing me as a friend, wentat one another again with infinite zest, and I saw them hard at it as Iturned into the market-square.
Our meagre collection of cannon had been packed here with theirappendancies, and I was threading my way through them to the far side ofthe square, where stands Exeter House, and was within a flick of a pebbleof it, when the Colonel ran out, bareheaded and eager, and came up to me.
"You young dog! What's happened?" said he.
"I've lost my hat, sir," I replied.
"Lost your--Damme! I'll have you court-martialled yet before I've donewith you. Off you come! Hello, my precious. Hitch him to the tail of yonwagon and come along. The Prince saw you from the window. Steady, mybeauty! Come along, Noll! Fancy a town the size of this and not a damnedpinch of Strasburg in it!"
I hurried after him through the hall and up the stairs. Something big wasin hand beyond a doubt, for hall and stairs were thronged with groups ofHighland leaders, and in one set, somewhat apart, I saw Murray andOgilvie. The Colonel took no notice of the curious looks that were castupon us, particularly me, but, after a word with the chief on duty,ushered me unceremoniously into the presence.
Charles was taking short turns up and down near the hearth, but stoppedas I bowed before him.
"You've failed me!" he said bitterly.
"I have carried out your Royal Highness's commands exactly, though, to mydeep regret, not punctually, but every hour I am late has been spent underarrest. In riding on your business, sir, I have ridden up to the foot ofthe gallows."
I spoke quietly but crisply, for I would not be girded at unjustly, no,not by a prince. He took my meaning, and answered generously, "As I knewyou would, Master Wheatman, if need were."
The noble panelled room in which we were was set out with a long tableand many chairs. At the head of the table a mean-looking man was busilywriting. At the window two other men stood in earnest conversation, andthese, as I learned later, were the Irishmen, Sir Thomas Sheridan andColonel O'Sullivan.
"Leave your dispatch, Mr. Secretary, and come hither. And you, too,gentlemen!" said Charles.
So, with the Prince sitting near the fire and the four leaders rangedbehind him, I stood and told my tale, cutting out all that was meaninglessfrom their point of view. As I had expected, there was no mistaking itseffect on him. I had indeed, come back empty-handed. Yet he pulled himselftogether and said lightly, "Well, gentlemen, if the men of the Midlandsare not for me, they are certainly not against me."
"That is a strong point in your favour, sir," said O'Sullivan.
"When I've thrashed the Duke and got into London," said Charles, buoyedup at once by any straw of comfort, "they'll be round me like wasps rounda honey-pot. I wasn't clear last night, but Master Wheatman has decidedme. I ride into London in Highland dress."
"I applaud the decision of Your Royal Highness," said the foxy secretary."It is a merited compliment to your brave clansmen." He afterwards rattedand so helped to hang some of the best of them.
"Now for your dispatch to the Marquis," said Charles, going towards thesecretary's papers. "There's time to look at it before Murray and hissupports arrive." O'Sullivan walked softly to one of the windowsoverlooking the square, and we followed him.
"Faith, Colonel," said he. "The game's up if we go on."
"It is," said the Colonel, tapping at his box. "Damn this rappee, Oliver.I'd as lief sniff at sawdust."
"But if the Prince wants to go on, I back him up," added O'Sullivan.
"So do I," said Sir Thomas.
"So do I," echoed the Colonel, "but, damme, I shall tell him the precisetruth about the military aspect of the situation. One's my duty as asoldier just as much as the other. I haven't the least objection to dying,but be damned if I want my reputation to die with me. The most you can sayof rappee, Oliver, is that it's better than nothing."
"That's just what I've been thinking, sir," said I, with equal gravity,"about my old hat."
"You're keeping that story for Margaret, you young dog, but she's boundto tell me. I was out of bed till two o'clock this morning, listening toher clatter about getting married quick, and walls of Troy, and ham andeggs. She nearly prated the top of my head off, and did not kiss megood-night till I'd told her for the seventeenth time that there was noneed to worry about you. Seventeen times"--a vigorous sniff and a merrytwinkle--"I counted 'em."
It was obvious nonsense, but it pained me.
"It was very kind of her, sir," I said at last.
"Humph!" said he, and turned to talk with the Irishmen. I kept a sharplook out on the square below, hoping for a glimpse of Margaret, paying noheed to the earnest conversation buzzing in my ear. Princes and dominions,and marches and battles, were nothing to me as I stood there fighting formastery over myself.
I was pulled back from these slippery tracks of thought by the Colonel,who gripped my arm and whispered, "Here they come, Oliver."
I looked to the door and saw the chiefs filing into the room, led byMurray, with the greater ones immediately behind him and the others in duedegree, till the room was fairly crowded. Charles continued his colloguingwith Mr. Secretary while they disposed themselves according to their rankin council, though the Duke of Perth was pleased to take his stand on thehearth among some of the smaller sort. Sir Thomas Sheridan and ColonelO'Sullivan left us and seated themselves nearer the Prince, and when theyhad done so, and while there was still some noisy settling down to bedone, I whispered to the Colonel, "Oughtn't I to go out now, sir?"
"I'm for going on to London," said he, grinning at me with his eyes,though he kept the face of a wooden image. "And first thing we do, Oliver,we'll lead a desperate attack, you and I, on a tobacco-man's. Damme!There's wagon-loads of Strasburg in London!"
"Suppose I start off now, sir, and mark down one or two of the primest."
"Suppose you stay where you are, lad," he replied. "You're here byrights: first, because the Prince asked ye here and has not dismissed you,and you never leave the presence of royalty till royalty kicks you out;secondly"--pausing to take a pinch of rappee that would have lifted theroof of my head off--"because you can't have less sense than some of thesechatterers. Council of war! Mob of parliament-men!"
Thus it came about that, thanks to Swift Nicks, I was present at thegreat council which was to decide the fate of the Stuarts. I pushed behindthe Colonel, so that I could now and again steal a peep for Margaret. Justat the last minute, with Charles lifting his eyes up to begin, the dooropened again to admit Maclachlan, red with the haste he had been making.It made me grit my teeth to see him, for I knew why he was so hot. He hadbeen fluttering around Margaret, and so had lost count of time. Then Istopped my gritting and started grinning. Much Margaret would think of aman who neglected his soldiering to dangle at her apron-strings!
His Royal Highness, after his usual habit, opened the Council by statinghis own opinion.
"I have called you together, gentlemen," he said, "to consider our nextstep. The question is: Shall we march west, cut the Duke's forces in two,and so beat him, or, shall we take advantage of the fact that we arenearer London than he is, press on, and take possession of the Capital? Iam strongly for the second plan."
"Damme, sir! Well put!" said the Colonel under his breath. And indeed itwas so well put that the chiefs looked rather hopelessly at one another,for this was by no means the alternative that they had in mind. It was tothem, as soon appeared, no choice between south and west that they hadcome to discuss, but the much more important choice between south andnorth. For a
minute or two there was a muttering of Gaelic, which thePrince did not understand, at any rate, so far as the words wereconcerned. Then Lord George Murray rose, bowed profoundly to the Prince,and began the case for the chiefs.
"The Duke of Cumberland," he said, "was that night at Stafford with anarmy of ten thousand foot and two thousand horse. Mr. Wade was coming byhard marches down the east road and could easily get between His RoyalHighness's army and Scotland. They had authentic news that an army wasbeing encamped on the north of London. If, then, they marched to Londonthey would have two armies in their rear and one in front of them, and,high as he rated the valour and prowess of the army he had the honour,under His Royal Highness, of commanding, it was vain to suppose that theycould defeat three armies each at least twice as numerous as they. None ofthe advantages on which they had relied when they agreed to enter Englandhad been realized. They had received no accession of strength worthconsidering from the English Jacobites; the population were not friendlybut at all times surly and neutral, and on all possible occasions openlyhostile; the promised French invasion had not even been attempted.Scotland they had won for His Majesty and could and should keep it forhim. To do this required them to return with all speed and withundiminished forces. On all these grounds he, and those for whom he spoke,implored His Royal Highness to return thither and consolidate his forcesfor a fresh attempt under more favourable conditions."
His lordship had spoken calmly and with no outward sign of feeling exceptthat, as he got toward the end of his speech and his drift became open andmanifest, his voice gained more and more emphasis as he saw theundisguised impatience and growing anger of Charles. The Prince paid nocourteous attention to the arguments of his chief military adviser, butshot eager glances round the ring of faces, and particularly at His Graceof Perth, who was visibly flattered by this mute appeal. The Colonel, whonoted all this by-play, was nettled by the Prince's indifference tomilitary authority, and whispered, "Well done, Geordie Murray! Right as atrivet!"
The speech done, the Prince struck his clenched fist on the table andsaid, "I am for marching on London."
It was plain, however, that the chiefs were against him almost to a man.Murray was clearly in the right, and his military skill and experiencegave him great authority. As yet there was no open murmuring against thePrince; nothing but manifest determination not to be won over by hiscajoleries or threats.
"Why should we not go on?" demanded the Prince passionately. "Here weare, masters of the heart of England. A quick, bold stroke, and London isours. The game is in our hands."
"Game?" cried a rugged, headstrong chief, Macdonald of Glencoe. "Thegame's up, sir, thanks to these beer-swilling English friends of yourhouse, who are Jacobites only round a cosy fire with mugs in their hands."
"They are only awaiting an earnest of victory," said Charles.
"Waiting for us to do the work," said Glencoe bitterly, "and then blithethey'll be to hansel the profits. We can gang back to Scotland as quick aswe like when we've ance got London for 'em!"
There was a growl of assent from the chiefs, but silence fell again whenthe venerable Tullibardine, too racked with gout to stand, took up theword.
He spoke as one who had grown old and weary and poor in the service ofthe exiled House. The conditions of success, he said, had always been thesame: the Highland adherents of His Majesty could never hope to be morethan the centre around which the real sources of strength, English supportand French aid, might gather; and these had failed now as they had failedin '15. "I dare not," he concluded, "lift my voice to urge men to takerisks which I am too feeble to share."
Charles put up a stout fight, but it was no use. Chief after chief hadhis say, and then said it again and again. Maclachlan shifted from hisplace near the door to the corner of the hearth and, after whispering awhile with the Duke of Perth, confusedly gave his opinion in favour ofgoing back.
He was no sort of a speaker, being ill at ease, and plainly occupied inrummaging about in his mind. Having wits, however, he stumbled on a newline of argument.
"Then, sir," he said, "there is the great port of Glasgow to be taken in.There's more ready wealth there than in any other town in Scotland, andits moneys, public and peculiar, will give you the means of raising agreat army for the spring."
"Any port in a storm," said the Prince, scowling at him.
Being a Stuart, Charles did not realize that every one of these chiefswas a king-in-little, accustomed to unfettered independence of action.There were curious contrasts in him, for he was as blundering andincapable in dealing with an assembly as he was sure and brilliant indealing with a man by himself.
Feeling began to run high. One of the chiefs jerked himself on to hisfeet and harangued the Prince like a master rating an apprentice. He wasalmost as long and thin as one of Jane's line-props, and had high, juttingcheek-bones and jaws that snapped on the ends of his sentences like arat-trap.
"I'm for gaein' back while the road's open behint us," he said. "If wedinna, and I get back at a', which is dootfu', I shall gae back wi' barelya dozen loons to my tail, an' the Cawmbells, be damned to every man o' thename, will ride on my back for the rest of my days."
"Ye're in the right of it, Strowan," said my Lord Ogilvie. "There's toofew of us for this work, but a little peat will boil a little pot. Let usgang back and raddle the Glasgow bodies. Ye hae my advice, sir!"
Here the Prince, to my mind, made a fatal mistake. He had begun by tryingto carry matters merely by the weight of his royal authority. This wasever his plan in council, and as long as things went well it served, sincethe chiefs, looking forward as they then did to ultimate triumph, were notwilling to risk his displeasure by standing out against him. Now that theywere in a tight corner this cock would fight no longer, and he madematters worse by appealing to the Irishman, O'Sullivan, for his opinion.He briefly gave it in favour of going on.
One tale will hold till another's told. O'Sullivan had a great reputationas a master of the irregular mode of fighting, which must be adopted by anarmy composed, like ours, of untrained men not equipped according to therules and requirements of soldiership. But my Lord George Murray was readyfor him.
"Great as Colonel O'Sullivan's reputation is, sir," he said sweetly, "wehave with us in Colonel Waynflete another soldier of great distinction.His views would be welcome, sir."
"Yes, indeed," said the Prince eagerly.
"For myself, sir," said the Colonel, snuff-box open in hand, for he hadbeen surprised with the rappee between his fingers, "I am ready to go on.I came to serve your Royal Highness, and I serve my commander as hechooses, not as I would choose myself. But when you ask me as to themilitary result of going on, I tell you frankly, as becomes a soldier ofexperience asked in Council to deliver his opinion, that it is idle toexpect this present force to get to London. As you get nearer London, sir,the country becomes of a kind which your army could not successfullyoperate in. It would be confined to roads lined with hedges and passingthrough many defendable towns and villages. Your short, powerful chargeswould be out of the question. The English as a whole fight well, no menbetter; we can't rationally expect all of them to run off at a Highlandyell, and with the country in their favour and London behind them, asource of constant fresh supplies to them, we should be wiped out indetail. Your Royal Highness wishes to go on, and therefore I am willing togo on, but your Royal Highness cannot capture London with the force atyour disposal."
He finished and took his snuff with zest, seeing that it was stillrappee, and handed me the box with great composure.
In all they talked and wrangled for three hours, and I got very tired ofit all and spent my time looking through the window for Margaret. Therewould be no profit in setting down more of what was said. Indeed, no freshpoint was raised until the Prince argued vehemently in favour of turningoff for Wales, where his adherents were supposed to be very strong.
This produced a fresh crop of speeches, all on one note--the necessity ofstarting back for Scotland.
The
Duke of Perth had been silent so far. He had stood on the hearth,near the fire, the warmth of which he stood greatly in need of, beingslight and weakly. He had turned his eyes from one speaker to another asthe debate went on, and had gently rubbed the back of his head against thepanelling, as if to stimulate thought. The speech of Colonel Waynfleteplainly had a great effect on him, and I could see that he was making uphis mind, for he continued the gentle rubbing of his head but took no noteof the wrangling and jangling about the Welsh project. The storm lulled,for it had blown itself out. Everything sayable had been said times out ofnumber.
"I am for marching back at once," he declared in a loud voice.
I was heartily sorry for the Prince. In his mind's eye he had seenhimself in the palace of his fathers with a nation repentant at his feet.He did not know England,--no Stuart ever did,--or he would have known thatthe wave of chivalry that had carried him so far was bound to spend itselfon the indifferent English as a wave spends itself on the indifferentsands. Yet it was hard to go back, hard to know that he had done so muchmore than his grandfather in '89 or his father in '15, and done it invain. His standard was proudly flaunting in the heart of England over thegrave of his cause.
But he died well. "Rather than go back," he cried, "I would wish to betwenty feet under ground!"
With a wave of his hand he dismissed the Council.
"Slip out and look after Sultan," whispered the Colonel. "I amaide-de-camp to the Prince and cannot come. Take him to the 'Bald-FacedStag' in the Irongate, to your right across the Square. You should findMargaret there, and Mr. Freake."
I was edging out in the tail of the procession when Mr. Secretary, movedthereto by the Prince, sidled up to me, his sly eyes overrunning theoutgoing chiefs as he came. He laid his hand on my arm, which gave me thecreeps, and said, "His Royal Highness would speak with you, sir."
He sidled back again with me behind him, wondering how far one fair kickwould lift him. I stood stiff and awkward before the Prince, who, however,addressed the Colonel.
"Your speech was a shrewd blow to me, Colonel. Nay, don't protest! Youdid a soldier's duty by me in Council as you will do it in battle. I askno more."
"And I shall do no less, sir," said the Colonel.
"Well, give me a pinch of snuff, and I'll ask your advice on anothermilitary point."
This was the straight way to the Colonel's heart, taking snuff andtalking soldiership being to him the twin boons of life.
Charles took his rappee thoughtfully and then said, "What is the best wayof dealing with a solid body of the enemy with inferior forces?"
"Split 'em up and smash 'em in detail, sir."
"What d'ye say to that, Tom Sheridan?" asked Charles.
"The oracle of Delphi could not have spoken better, sir," replied SirThomas.
"Damn your oracle of Delphi, you old rascal," cried the Prince, withgreat good-humour. "That's a crumb of the mouldy bread of learning youused to cram down my throat in the old days. It makes Master Wheatmanwrithe to hear it. The only advantage I ever got out of being a Prince wasthat old Tom here never dared thrash me for gulping up his rubbish."
"Master Wheatman knows Latin enough to stock a couple of bishops, sir,"said the Colonel.
"The devil he does!" said Charles admiringly. "He'll come in handy forwriting me a letter to His Holiness."
"It's not such bad stuff as all that, sir," said I, glad of a chance ofsaying something, for I had been hurt to the quick by talk that remindedme of how I had quizzed Jack's classics in Old Comfit's entry.
"To come back to the Colonel's advice," said Charles. "I've split 'em upand now I'm going to smash 'em in detail. We're not going back, sirs, if Ican help it. Master Wheatman,"--and here he naturally and unaffectedlytook on a princely tone--"we appoint you our assistant aide-de-camp, anddesire your attendance on our person during the day, under the moreimmediate authority of our excellent friend, Colonel Waynflete."
At a sign from the Colonel, which I was lucky enough to see the meaningof, I dropped on my knee before the Prince.
"Thank you, Master Wheatman," said Charles, in his ordinary frank way,when I rose. "You're worth a hundred rats like young Maclachlan."
I coloured, partly with the praise and partly because I was wondering howmany Smite-and-spare-nots I was worth.
I was then closely questioned about the lie of the land to the south ofStafford and Derby. After a long consultation, the Prince dismissed me,with a gracious invitation to be one of the Royal party at dinner,promising me, with a sly smile, that the company should be to my liking.
The Colonel and I withdrew. In the corridor he put me in charge of anupper servant of the household, and went to see to Sultan.
My new acquaintance was an elderly man of a solemn, soapy aspect, set offby a sober black livery and a neat wig. He took me up to a bedroom, andsaw to my comfort.
"William, or whatever it is," I began.
"William it is, sir," said he.
"Do I look like an assistant aide-de-camp to a prince?"
He took stock of me, from my dirty boots to my bare head, and then saidsolemnly, "No, sir!"
"William," said I, "but that's precisely what I am."
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Therefore this is precisely your opportunity, William."
"Yes, sir," said he.
"William," I went on insinuatingly, "I think you could, knowing thishouse so intimately as you do, make me look something like an assistantaide-de-camp to a prince. It's a tough job, William, but you'll do it. Ican see it in your eye. By virtue of the power adherent to the assistantaide-de-camp of a prince, we hereby authorize you to do all things thatmay be necessary for the accomplishment of our purpose, and, when yourtask is over, you will, by a curious coincidence, find five guineas underyon candlestick. Life, William, is full of coincidences."
"Yes, sir."
"But not as full of guineas, William, as it should be. Set to work!"
Instead of going he stood there, gently washing his hands with imaginarysoap and water, and finally said, "You will of course, sir, be very angryif I do not do as you bid me."
"I shall, William," said I, lathering away at my chin.
"I may take it, sir, that you'll blow my brains out if I don't."
"Blow your--Oh, I see! Certainly!" said I, tailing off from astonishmentinto understanding.
The quiet humour of the man was delightful. I fetched a pistol out of mypocket and added gravely, "William, unless I am, in appearance as well asin fact, a prince's assistant aide-de-camp in half an hour, I'll blow yourbrains out. Now clear out, while I have a bath!"
"Thankee, sir. It'll be all right now. My lord is, I should say, just ofa size with your honour."
William was an artist and fitted me out with the nothing-too-much ofexact taste. There were garments by the score that would have made apopinjay of me, but he knew better, and turned a sober young yeoman into asober young gentlemen, and there's no harder task, as I have frequentlyobserved since.
"Sir," said he at length, stepping back a few paces to con me over, "inany other man I should deplore the obstinacy-excuse my plainness,sir--which declines to wear a wig, but the general result, the _toutensemble_, as my lord would put it, is agreeable."
"William," I replied, "you err through ignorance--excuse my plainness,William. The best Wheatman of the Hanyards that ever lived would haveburned at the stake rather than wear a wig. I've done most of the otherthings he would have burned for, but I'll stick by him to this extent thatI'll be damned if I'll wear a wig."
I never have, and it is no small measure due to me that the wearing ofwigs is being left to lawyers and doctors, who, I understand, find it paysto look old and old-fashioned.
"Quite so, sir! A very proper sentiment," said William, with his eye onthe candlestick. "It's family pride that keeps the great families agoing,sir, and they're the backbone of the Constitution, sir!"
After this high sentence, as I was ready to go, he gravely escorted me tothe door and bowed
me out. I dropped my ear to the keyhole and heard thechink of the guineas. William clearly had a very pretty appreciation ofthe best means of keeping himself agoing. A suaver, defter rascal I havenever set eyes on.
I had already so much of soldiership as to know that it is well to masterthe ins and cuts and roundabouts of a strange house. If an emergency comesit may be the best guide to action. "Know your ground and win your fight,"the Colonel used to say, and it's as true of a house as of a province. SoI walked softly and watchfully about, and in doing so had turned sharp tothe right to gain a view of the river and the gardens, when I came on theLady Ogilvie. She was kneeling on a cushioned settle, resting her chin inher hands, and her elbows on the high back of the seat.
She turned to see who it was. Her face was clouded over, but the sun ofher smile broke through in a flash, and she darted joyously at me.
"It's the incomparable one!" she cried, bubbling over with merriment."Nay, I vow, it's the still more incomparable one. Losh, man, and ye lookbonny! I'm telling it ye, and I've seen more bonny men than you've seenbullocks. Sit down and tell me where you've been and what you've done.Davie says you tell't him I was very, very guid. And so I am," she endedcomplacently, "and if any man says the differ...."
"He'll do well to keep out of Davie's road and mine," I cut in, as I wasbuilding up the cushions into a soft corner for her.
"You're an unco' guid lad," she said, wriggling into her nest, "an' if itwerena for some one I ken I'd gie ye anither kiss."
I willingly admit that I wished Davie far enough, for she was a verydainty lady, with a mouth like an open rose-bud.
We had a long talk, for I told her all about my doings with ghost,thieves, thief-catchers, and baby Blount. She enjoyed it to the top of herbent. Then, when I had come to the end of my tale, she sobered all of asudden, and said, "Oliver, what's going to happen to us?"
"I don't know," said I.
"There's something in the wind I dinna like. Davie's a' for ganging back.We women ought never to have come. Davie can think o' naething but me. Asif I mattered a tup's head, the silly gomeril, bless him! Now there's yourMaclachlan. He'd go to London if it was full o' deevils to fetch astay-lace for Margaret, but he's a' for the homeward gait too!"
"The best military opinion is that it is hopeless to go on," said I.
"And I dinna think it's much better to gae back, laddie. It's a retreat.Ca' it what you like, you can mak' nae ither thing of it, and theseHighland bodies, ance they retreat, will break to bits. Naething will keepthe main of 'em taegither, ance they cross the Highland line again. Saeit's a black look out, Oliver, but I dinna mind ane wee bit. If I'd nobeen a Jacobite, I'd never hae met my Davie yonder. He's worth it a', isDavie."
"It's a hard task for any man to be worthy of your ladyship," said I,"but Davie's worthy if any man is."
"And Davie reckons you're fine," she replied, smiling. "Margaret pit himdoon for three dances, and sat in a corner with him through 'em a'. Iwonder the incomparable one's lugs"--I knew what she meant because shepinched one--"arena burnt off his head. You should hae seen Maclachlanranting and raving like an auld doited tup!"
"It is pleasant to learn that Mistress Waynflete is so interested in mydoings," said I, with as much coolness and aloofness as I could muster. Iwould at least keep my foolishness on my own side of my teeth.
"Unco pleasant, I hae nae doot," was her dry comment. And she set her redlips aslant as if she were swallowing vinegar.
I remembered my new function, and looked at my watch. I had long overrunthe hour the Colonel had given me.
"Your ladyship will pardon me," said I, springing up, "but I'm overduefor duty."
"Duty?"
"Yes. His Royal Highness has appointed me assistant aide-de-camp tohimself."
I spoke with much impressiveness but, to my chagrin, instead of thecongratulations that were my due on such an occasion, she looked concernedand almost angry, and cried, "The very deil's in it!"
"I am sorry your ladyship is displeased," I said coldly. Scot clings toScot, and she did not like it.
"Displeased, ye daft gomeril!" she retorted. "And I suppose you'll bepleased, and Margaret will shout for joy, if ye get a dirk in yourassistant aide-de-camp's ribs ane o' these fine nights. Just understandance for a', my friend, that a Highlander kills a man wi' as littlecompunction as an Englishman squashes a beetle. There's nane o' yourlaw-and-order bodies beyont the Highland line."
"Nothing but common murderers!" said I hotly. "I have heard much of thevirtues of the Highlanders of late, but this surprises me."
"Hoots! Murderers?" she cried. "No such silly Saxon whimsies. They've gotas many virtues as any Englisher that ever snivelled prayer and shortenedyardstick. Murderers! Hoots, my mannie! Just removers of difficulties!"
So she turned it off with a jest in her pretty way, and got up and jiggedalong the corridor with me after her, longing to jig it with her, buthobbled by my new dignity. I had no clear notion of an assistantaide-de-camp's duties, but felt that they required a certain solemnity ofmanner inconsistent with her ladyship's grasshopper ways.
In the end, she dancing and I lumbering along, we came on a cheerfulgroup collected in the corridor below. There was the Prince, the Duke ofPerth, the Lord Ogilvie, the two Irishmen, Mr. Secretary, the Colonel, astrange lady or two, and Margaret.
"I thought your ladyship was lost," said Charles, smiling.
"On the contrary, sir," she retorted, "I was found."
"The usual explanation," he commented lightly.
"A most unusual explanation, sir," she countered deftly, "for Mr.Wheatman has been explaining how it came to pass that he kissed a ghost."
"I never said any such thing," cried I, vexed to the bone.
"It wasna necessary," she said airily.
"Was it the ghost of a lady?" asked the Duke, who had been greatly amusedby the dialogue.
"The question could only be asked," said Charles, "by one who has not theadvantage of knowing Master Wheatman."
He laid a hand on my arm and drew me nearer. "My lord Duke," he went on,"I present to you the latest addition to my army, Mr. Oliver Wheatman ofthe Hanyards, the first-fruit, I am convinced, of a rich harvest from thegentry of his shire."
It was no plan of mine to cry stinking fish to a Prince who had engentriedme in such distinguished company. "I'll have two blue stars and a jack inmy coat-armour," thought I, as I bowed to the Duke, who made himselfsingularly graceful.
There was now a general movement down the corridor, headed by the Princewith one of the unknown ladies on his arm. There was no other formalpairing though Lady Ogilvie deftly snapped up the Duke as he was comingfor Margaret, and thus left her to me.
She let the last pair get a yard or two ahead of us, and then looked atme, her eyes full of laughter, curtsied, and said, "Good morrow, SirKiss-the-ghost!"
"Good morrow, madam," said I stoutly.
She put her arm in mine and, as we moved off, whispered mockingly,"Sensible ghost!"