how i fared in my attempt to recover the stolen money, and how father o'rourke and i came face to face with unlooked-for company in the inn at portree.
we, in company with my kinsmen, pushed our way rapidly towards knoidart. although it had been perfectly plain to us both—for father o'rourke had picked up no mean bit of soldiering in his campaigning—that any successful stand was out of the question—for the cordon was every day tightening round lochiel, and, worse than this, some of the principals, like lovat, were disheartened, and only anxious to make their peace on any terms—murray, who was to some extent the representative of the prince, was badly frightened, and most of the highlanders were wearying to return home. this was all patent to us, and yet we could not help feeling a sense of dejection with the others, most of whom knew no reason whatever for anything they did, beyond that they were ordered to it by their chiefs.
but nothing like a spice of danger will cheer a lagging spirit, and for the first twelve hours we had enough of it and to spare. but though at times nearly surrounded, being able to scatter on any approach, we had an advantage over what troops we met, and were not slow to avail ourselves of our opportunities. "faith, i've not done so much running away since i was at school!" father o'rourke declared; and, indeed, to see him one would swear he had the heart of a school-boy in him still.
however, we were soon beyond actual danger, and now made our way openly enough, until one evening we stood on the highway, and before us i pointed out to father o'rourke the chimnies of crowlin, my father's house, which i had left as a boy of twelve, six years before.
"there! that is crowlin"
eighteen may not seem a great age to my reader, and does not to me to-day, when i can cap it with fifty years and more, but on that june day in the year '46, when i stood and knocked the dust of the road off my shoes, i felt like a man who had spent a lifetime away from all he had known as a boy, and my heart grew so big within me that i could hardly say the words, "there! that is crowlin."
"aye, giovannini, and the man is blessed that has a crowlin to come back to," father o'rourke said, laying his hand on my shoulder.
"oh, i don't mean that, father; 'tis a poor place enough," i answered, for fear he should think i was vaunting it.
"and i didn't mean that either, giovannini," he said, smiling. "but let us be going."
so on we went, each familiar object breaking down the first feeling of separation until the years between vanished before a voice within, saying, "i saw you yesterday! i saw you yesterday!" as we passed the big rock by the bend of the road, and followed the little path with the same turns across the fields and over the brook, with the same brown water slipping between the same stepping-stones. "you crossed o'er yesterday! you crossed o'er yesterday!" it seemed to say; and so on, until the dogs rushed out barking at us from the house itself.
"go in first, lad—go in. i'll stay and make friends with the collies," said father o'rourke, seating himself, and i left him.
i found my father sadly changed; much more so than i had gathered from the news i had received; indeed, it was easy to see that his disease was fast nearing its end. he was greatly brightened by my return, and heartily welcomed father o'rourke, the more so when he learned his true character, and they took to each other at once.
when i saw the great, bare house—all the more forlorn for the lot of rantipole boys and girls, children of my poor uncle scottos—wanting the feeling of a home, that somehow seems absent without a woman about—for my sister margaret was the same as adopted by lady jane drummond—and my poor father waiting his end among his books, alone, year in year out, i first realized something of what my absence had meant to him, and of the effort it had cost him to send me away.
it was decided we should remain where we were for the present, until something definite was heard from the prince, which might lead to further action. as it would only have courted danger, which i hold a man has no right to do, we put off our uniforms and soon were transformed by the highland dress.
to me it was nothing, this change to a kilt and my own short hair, replacing the bag wig with a blue bonnet, but father o'rourke would fain have returned to the cassock he had left behind him on board the swallow, and was most uncomfortable for many days until he learned to manage the kilt "with decency, if not with grace," as he said himself.
"oh, isaiah, isaiah!" he groaned; "little did i dream you were preaching at me when you commanded, 'uncover thy locks, make bare the leg' (discooperi humerum, revela crura)," and he would pretend to cover up his great knees with his short kilt, to the delight of the children, who were hail-fellow-well-met with him from the hour of his arrival.
many was the pleasant talk he had with my father, who was full of his remembrances of rome and the college he so loved in the via delle quattro fontane. with him he stopped all his tomfooleries, and i was surprised to see what excellent reason he would discourse, and take a pleasure in it too. but it must not be taken he only amused himself and my father, for more than one weary journey did he make into the hills to minister to some wounded unfortunate there in hiding, sore needing the spiritual consolation he alone could carry. as the "sagairt an t-saighdeir" (the soldier priest) he was soon known and demanded far and near, and no request ever met with a refusal, no matter what danger might offer.
i may mention it was now the common people began to speak of me as "spanish john," a name that has stuck fast to the present; indeed, such names serve a purpose useful enough where a whole country-side may have but one family name, and i can assure you, the mcdonells never wanted for johns. there were red johns, and black johns, and fair johns, and big johns, and johns of every size and colour and deformity. had they known a little more geographically, they might have come nearer the mark; but it is not for me to quarrel with the name they saw fit to fasten upon me, as most of them knew as little difference between spain and italy as between mesopotamia and timbuctoo.
the english were about at times, and more than once we had to take to the heather, and lie skulking for days together in the hills; but no harm came to crowlin. indeed, i thought but little of the ravages committed, though they have been made much of since, for waste many a mile of country had i helped to lay, and that a country like to the garden of eden compared with this tangle of heath and hill. it was only the fortune of war; and, after all, there was many a one who lived on without being disturbed, always ready to lend a hand to those less fortunate.
"many was the pleasant talk he had with my father"
early in june we heard the news of the capture of old lord lovat, in loch morar, and before the end of the month that mr. secretary murray had also fallen into the hands of the government, about this time too we heard some ugly reports of one allan mcdonald knock, of sleat, in the isle of skye, and, though a cousin of our own, it was said he was the head of the informers and spies, and from the description we suspected that creach was his coadjutor.
as soon as our country began to get more settled, i resolved to go north and see if i could come on any chance of recovering the stolen money; for now the prince would need it more than ever, as the last news we had of him was in south uist, in great straits for every necessity. accordingly, i set out alone, and, on arriving in the mckenzie country, i put up for a night with a mr. mckenzie, of torridon, who had been out as a lieutenant-colonel in my cousin coll barisdale's regiment.
i made some inquiries, and found old colin dearg was still in the country, but was careful not to disclose the object of my visit, which was an easy enough matter, as our talk ran on the troubles of our friends and the prince.
the next morning, while the lady of the house was ordering breakfast, i went for a solitary stroll, to turn over my plans and decide how i might best approach the matter. i had not gone far before i met a well-dressed man, also in highland clothes, taking the morning air, and with him, after civil salutations, i fell into discourse about former happenings in the country.
what was my astonishment to hear him of his own accord begin the story of the french officers who came to loch broom, and how the thousand guineas had been cut out of their portmanteau by colin dearg and the others, major william mckenzie of killcoy, and lieutenant murdock mckenzie, from dingwall, both officers of lord cromarty's regiment.
"a pretty mess they made of the matter," he said, "and were well despised through all the country for their behaviour; but had they only taken my advice there would never have been a word about it."
"indeed!" said i, astonished beyond measure. "and pray, sir, what did you advise?"
"och, i would have cut off both their heads and made a sure thing of it, and there never would have been another word about the matter."
i looked at him with a good deal of curiosity, for i can assure you it gives a man a strange feeling to hear his taking off talked over to his face as a matter of course.
"who were they," i asked, "and from what country?"
"the oldest, and a stout-like man, was irish. the youngest, and very strong-like, was a mcdonell, of the family of glengarry," he answered.
"how did they know the money was there? did these officers speak of it?" i asked, thinking i might as well get at the whole story.
"no," said he, "but another officer, who had been with old colin since the battle, went on board their ship when they landed and told him the youngest one was sure to have money."
"was his name creach or graeme," i went on.
"i don't just remember, but his face was as white as a sick woman's," was the answer, which fixed my man for me beyond a doubt.
"and what was done with the money?"
"colin dearg got three hundred guineas, william killcoy three hundred, and lieutenant murdock mckenzie three hundred."
"and what of the other hundred?"
"two men who stood behind the irish captain with drawn dirks, ready to kill him had he observed colin dearg cutting open the portmanteau, got twenty-five guineas each, and i and another man, prepared to do the like to the young captain mcdonell, got the same," he answered, very cool, as if it were a piece of business he did every day.
"now, are you telling the truth?" i asked, sternly.
"as sure as i shall answer for it on the last day," he said, warmly.
"and do you know to whom you are speaking?"
"to a friend, i suppose, and one of my own name."
"no, you damned rascal!" i roared, and caught him by the throat with my left hand, twitching out my dirk in my right, and throwing him on his back. "i am that very mcdowell you stood ready to murder!" and i was within an ace of running him through the heart, when i suddenly reflected that i was quite alone, in a place where i was in a manner a stranger, and among people whom i had every reason to distrust. i got up, thrust my dirk into its sheath, and walked off without a word, leaving the fellow lying where i had thrown him.
i met mr. mckenzie in the entry, who asked me where i had been.
"taking a turn," said i.
"have you met with anything to vex you?"
"no," said i, smiling.
"sir," said he, "i ask your pardon, but you went out with an innocent and harmless countenance, and you come in with a complexion fierce beyond description."
"come, come, mr. mckenzie," said i, laughing, "none of your scrutinizing remarks; let us have our morning."
"with all my heart," said he, pouring out the whiskey.
i made some cautious inquiries about the man of my morning adventure, to which torridon replied he was a stranger to the place, but he believed him to be probably a soldier in lord cromarty's regiment.
as soon as i could decently do so, i took leave of my host and hastened to put into execution a plan i had formed.
my cousin john, glengarry, was the head of our family and my chief, and to him i determined to apply. i therefore set out at once for invergarry, where i found the castle entirely dismantled and abandoned, so that when the duke of cumberland appeared somewhat later he found only bare walls to destroy; but destroy them he did, so completely that he did not even leave a foundation.
i found glengarry easily enough, living in retirement in a safe place among his own people, and paid my respects to him with great good will; indeed, few chiefs had greater claims than he.
his father, alastair dubh, was one of the best warriors of his day, and had performed feats at killiecrankie that a man might well be proud of. there, too, the chief's elder brother, donald gorm, fell gloriously, having killed eighteen of the enemy with his own sword.
his eldest son, alastair, was now in the tower of london, a prisoner, and æneas, his second, had been accidentally shot at falkirk six months before, whilst in arms for the prince.
he, himself, had not been out, but no more had clanranald; indeed, in many cases it was thought best the heads of the families should not be involved, in the event of the rising not proving favourable; but this turned out to be a sorry defence in more cases than one, amongst which was glengarry's own.
after hearing my story, he said, laughing, "man! but this would make a pretty quarrel with the mckenzies if we only had these troubles off our hands. i would send with you men enough to turn their whole country upside down, and you might consider the money as safe as if you had it in your own sporran. but what can i do? you dare not take any body of men across the country, and, more than that, i haven't them to send, even if you could. but let us sleep over it, and we will see what can be done in the morning."
i told him my plan was to go straight to dundonald, who was an honourable man, and through him try and work on his uncle, old colin dearg; and could he but provide me with five or six men, by way of a life-guard, it was all i would ask.
when we parted on the morrow, glengarry said: "there are your men! but promise me there will be no lives wasted unless something can be gained. i have given you five picked men, and they must not be thrown away; but if the money can be got, and fighting is wanted, you have five better swords at your back than ever were dreamed of among the mckenzies; and whether you send them all back or not, i'll be satisfied so long as you make good use of them."
we made our way with all possible speed and precaution until we arrived at dundonald's, and with him i was well pleased, more particularly at his reception of my plans, and his promise to send for old colin and have him meet us at a place appointed.
thither we all repaired, and after inquiring from dundonald the particulars of the house, which i found simple enough, for it was all one floor without partitions and but a single door, i laid out my plan of action to my men.
should old colin keep the appointment, it would most probably be after dark, and he was sure to come with a strong following, more particularly if he suspected i was in the matter, which well might be the case after my meeting of the previous week. so i determined as follows: my men should seat themselves just within the door, not allowing any one to separate them, and see they kept their arms clear that they might be drawn the moment i made the signal. at this, the two i named were to keep the door, and the other three pass out and at once fire the house at both ends, and then return to back up the others at the door, where they could easily cut down the mckenzies as they attempted to make their way out.
as for me, i would seat myself between dundonald and old colin dearg, and at the first serious offensive motion i would do for both of them at once with my dirk and pistol, knock out the light, and try to make for the door. if i chanced to get there alive, they would know my voice, as i would shout our rallying cry, "fraoch eilean!" but if i failed, to see that every soul within perished along with me. there was a good chance of escaping, as i held the start of the fight in my own hands, and i counted that between the surprise and the dark i ran no risk beyond the ordinary. i regretted that my plan should include dundonald, but as he was a mckenzie that could not be helped.
i was right in every particular, for it was dark when old colin appeared, and he was followed by forty or fifty men, carrying, apparently, only short sticks, but under their coats i perceived they had their dirks ready. they entered the house, and, without giving them a moment to settle or to disconcert our plan, i entered boldly and seated myself as i proposed, my men keeping together near the door.
after a short pause, every one eying me and mine, and we returning it, though without offence, dundonald mentioned the cause of our visit in as becoming a manner as the subject would admit of, speaking in english, so that what was offensive might not be understood by the men.
"and why, dundonald, should you come inquiring of me about a matter of which i know nothing?" asked colin dearg, in a silky voice, like the old fox he was.
"now, colin dearg mckenzie," said i, shortly, "i have neither time nor stomach for smooth words. you cut that gold out of my portmanteau with your own hands and kept three hundred guineas of it, while the other six went to your fellow-thieves. i have it from the wretch you bribed with twenty-five more to murder me if i saw you at your dirty work. so none of your lies, but make what restitution you can, and prove you have some honesty left in you by handing over the prince's money."
the old man never made an attempt to defend himself, but after a minute said, sulkily, "och, well! there's no use making such a pother about the matter now; the money is gone, and i cannot give it back if i would, so there is an end of it all."
"no," i said, in gaelic, so all might understand; "because the thief has spent the money that does not end the matter."
"what more would you have?" asked the old man, still sulky.
"the gallows!" i said, firmly; and with a growl the crowd caught at their dirks; but at the same moment i whipped out my dirk and pistol, and, covering both old colin and dundonald, swore i would kill them both if the first step was made towards me, and, as i spoke, my men took possession of the door.
"for the love of god, my children, stand you still—stand you still!" screamed old colin, and not a man moved.
every man in the room was on his feet, crowding towards the table where we stood, i facing them all, holding both dundonald and old colin as my sureties at the point of my weapons, my men keeping the door as i knew, though i dared not so much as glance towards them, and every one strained up to the point of outburst, only waiting for the next move.
i chose to keep the lead in my own hands. "now, then! what have you got to say for yourself?" i demanded from old colin.
"i might say i have only taken my own," he returned, with amazing quiet. "but 'tis ill talking with a dirk against one's ribs. move it a little from me and let me talk as a gentleman should," he went on, with a coolness that brought forth a murmur of admiration from his people.
"your own?" i cried, amazed at his audacity.
"my own, certainly; and not only mine, but my children's as well! think you a few paltry gold pieces will pay the debt of the prince towards me and mine? we have given what your gold is as dirt beside! we have given lives that all the gold under heaven cannot buy back. we have broken hearts for his sake that all the louis d'ors in france cannot mend. i and mine have ruined ourselves beyond redemption for his cause, and, when we have winter and starvation before us, why should i not take what comes to my hand for those nearest to me, when it can be of no use elsewhere?"
there came answering groans and sighs of approval from his following at this fine-sounding bombast, and i was at a loss how to cut it short or see my way to an end, when, taking advantage of my distraction, he suddenly gave some signal, and, quick as thought, a blade flashed out beside him, and i only saved myself by a chance parry with my dirk.
then i lost control of myself. "take that, you red fox!" i shouted, and, raising myself, i struck colin dearg mckenzie above the breastbone, so that he went down under my hand like an ox that is felled. with my pistol-hand i knocked over the only light, and jumped for the door, shouting "fraoch eilean!" and before they could recover, i had passed out under the swords of my men.
"fire the thatch now! fire the thatch!" i shouted; but even as i spoke the red flame began running up the roof, and our men joined us again.
every heart was beating and every arm tingling to begin, for we knew we could hold the door against any number, but, to our surprise, no man attempted to make his way out, though the dry thatch was beginning to crackle and discommode us with its glare. there was a silence like the dead within.
i approached the door. "dundonald! what is the matter with you, within? come out yourself alone, and i give you my word of honour you shall go unharmed. then let the others come as they can."
"mcdonell!" he called back. "colin is dead. they have no heart for fighting."
"then let them burn! but come you out!" for i could not bear that he, a gentleman, should perish with cattle such as these.
"that i will never do! we either go out together, or my blood will be on your hands with theirs!" he answered.
"my god, dundonald! what folly is this?" i cried, much distressed at his obstinacy. but there came no sound save the crackling of the thatch.
my men said never a word; it was my private quarrel, and though i knew they would be satisfied with whatever i might decide, i was in a sore quandary what to do, and in my perplexity i leaned towards mercy.
"dundonald! if they will say together, 'he was a thief and came to his death by my hand honestly,' and if you will come out to us, we will stand by and let them depart unharmed. there is no time to lose; the roof is wellnigh gone!"
at this there was a babel of tongues within, while my men grunted their approval behind me. then came a cry from the house: "red colin was wrong, and came to his end fairly and honestly at the hand of little john mcdonell!"
"that will do!" i cried. "come you out first, and the others may follow!"
we stood off to one side, prepared against any sudden rush; but dundonald stepped out of the door alone, sheathing his sword as he did so, and placed himself in our midst. then appeared four men bearing the stalwart body of old colin dearg between them in a plaid, and after trooped the others. they passed us without a word or look, and kept on their way in silence up towards the hills, not even turning when the roof crashed in, sending a shower of sparks and flame into the darkness overhead.
"dundonald," i said, when the night had shut them out from us, "i trust you bear me no ill-will for this business? my hand could not reason when it baulked his last treachery."
"no, mcdonell," he answered, with much openness, "he was my kinsman and i owed him my support, but, now that he is gone, i will never lay his going against you." and thereupon we shook hands and parted very good friends.
on my return to glengarry, i was supported by his approval of my action. and, after giving suitable acknowledgments to the men, dismissed them and made my way back to crowlin, where i found them much disturbed at my long absence, and fearful i had fallen into the hands of the english.
it was now about the beginning of july, and hearing that the prince would most likely be in skye, father o'rourke and i determined we should take our way thither to volunteer our services, and accordingly took leave of my father. he was most willing we should go, and never complained of our leaving, although we could see that he was daily drawing nearer to his end. but he was anxious about our apprehension, as many had been taken of late. major ferguson had laid waste the lands of lansdale, and, among others, my cousin coll barisdale's fine house, traigh, was burned to the ground. this my father felt keenly, and felt too that the next blow might fall even nearer home.
so we crossed over, intending to make for trotternish, on lord mcdonald's estate, but heard news soon after landing that the prince had gone on, probably to the main-land.
however, we kept on, and after spending the first night with rory mcdonald of fortymenruck, pushed as far as portree, as i thought father o'rourke might as well see the principal place in the island.
when we reached portree, we went into a tavern to obtain refreshment after our march of twenty miles, and desired the landlord to fetch us something to drink. upon this he informed us there were gentlemen in the next room who would like to have the pleasure of our company if we thought proper to indulge them. i inquired their names, and, on hearing them, desired him to present our compliments and we would join their party.
in the next room we found nine or ten gentlemen, some of whom i knew and others i had heard of, and, after partaking of what they had, i called for more liquor to our account. while the landlord was preparing this the door opened, and who should appear on the threshold but captain creach. at the sight of us his white face turned even a shade paler; however, i could not but admire the address with which he recovered himself and entered with perfect assurance, greeting the company, all of whom evidently knew him, calling him graeme, as usual. my first impulse was to seize and denounce him before them all, but father o'rourke's hand was on me under the table, and i reflected that my mission from the duke not being yet at an end, i was still bound in my word; so i managed to conceal my feelings, and when he was introduced i bowed as if i had never seen him before, which he returned as collected as a tax-gatherer.
what i had called for now came in, but i noticed that creach did no more than touch his lips to his glass, upon which one of the company rallied him, and i heard him say he did not choose to drink more.
"why is that, sir?" i said, pretending to be somewhat gone in liquor.
"i try to avoid giving offence," he said, very pointedly, "and sometimes if i am warmed with liquor i am apt to blunder out something which might not please."
"oh, i am not particular as to my company, mr. creach," i said, hoping he might take me up on the name, but he made no move. "i am a peaceable man myself, and promise you not to take offence at anything, provided you apologize immediately afterwards. now, here's a health i cannot let pass—to my host of last night, rory mcdonald fortymenruck!"
he drank with the rest.
i began again at once. "here's to the prince and his better fortunes, and a curse on any one who plays him false!"
he drank this too.
i was thinking out something, more pointed, when he stopped me by asking why i did not propose the health of my cousin, allan mcdonald knock.
here was an opening as good as another, and i took it.
"is he a friend of yours?"
"he is, sir."
"then, sir, i do not drink to him, because he lies under grave imputations."
"and pray, sir, what may they be?" he asked.
"oh, i only have them on hearsay," i said, drawing him on.
"and what do you hear?"
"only that he is a coward and an informer, and, of course, a scoundrel, whose health any gentleman would refuse to drink," i answered, mighty cool.
"what!" said he; "do you really believe him a coward?"
"that is his general character."
"then, sir," said he, "if you will send him a challenge i will bear it, and if he will not fight you, i will."
"oh, do not trouble yourself. if you are anxious for fighting, you have a sword by your side, and so have i. why lose any time? out with you at once, and i will give you all the fighting you can stomach between this and doomsday," and i made as if i would rise.
as a matter of fact, i would not then have fought with the reptile for worlds, but since i could not lay hands on him, it was some little satisfaction to outface him before his company, and i made no objections when the others interfered, but only thought that mr. creach had added a long bit to his reckoning when he asked me to drink to the health of allan knock in the inn at portree.
