sir donald leslie was engaged in preparing a bowl of hot whisky toddy, when his grandson and his guest rejoined him. he did not observe colin's blanched face and wild, staring eyes. the boy strode to the fireplace and flung himself into his favourite seat in the corner, staring into the glowing red mass upon the hearth.
when the two men had filled and lighted their pipes, and were comfortably seated before the fire, each with a steaming glass of toddy within reach of him, colonel ossington abruptly resumed the conversation at the point where it had been broken off some fifteen minutes earlier.
"my present appearance here," he said, crossing his legs, "is connected with certain mysterious events which occurred at the time of my first visit to castle leslie on the fifteenth day of april 1746—that is to say, on the eve of the battle of culloden." he paused an instant as if to arrange his thoughts. then, leaning forward and fixing his keen grey eyes upon his host, he said in a tone of sharp inquiry: "will you tell me what became of your brother, neil leslie?"
sir donald received the question with a lowering of the brows.
"ah," said he, as he pressed his finger into the bowl of his tobacco-pipe, "i had guessed that it was of him you came to speak. i had even gone so far as to expect that you were about to pester me by telling me you had met him out there in america. i don't want to know anything concerning him, colonel ossington. he disgraced and ruined his family, and whether he be dead, as i hope, or alive, as i sometimes fear, he is no more to me than the most utter stranger."
"if i had met him in america," observed colonel ossington, "i should have no need to ask you what had become of him. i know nothing of him—nothing of what happened to him subsequent to the evening before culloden fight."
"i assume that you were yourself in that fight," remarked sir donald.
"yes," returned the colonel, "i was then a young ensign. i served under major james wolfe in repelling the first attack of the highlanders."
"ah," mused sir donald; "then you would not come into conflict with neil leslie. he, i believe, remained studiously in the rear."
"pardon me," corrected the colonel, "he was not on the field."
a blank yet somewhat haughty stare was the response to this unexpected contradiction. sir donald was evidently perplexed.
"i do not go so far as to declare that he was actually in the fight," said he. "but that he was somewhere on the fringe of the battle i am well assured. after the fight he fled with the defeated highlanders, first to the western islands, and afterwards to france. such at least is what my father believed concerning him—not that he went out of his way to make inquiries. you may be sure that he was in nowise anxious for the graceless scoundrel's safety. indeed, if the truth must needs be told, sir john was rejoiced to be rid of neil at any cost."
"rejoiced to be rid of him?" echoed the colonel, in surprise. "i do not understand. neil leslie was his father's especial favourite. and very naturally so, as it seems to me, since they both were jacobites."
sir donald laid his pipe upon the table.
"jacobites?" he repeated, in a tone half of surprise and half of disbelief. "who were jacobites?"
"why, sir john leslie and his son neil."
"no, no," returned sir donald emphatically. "you mistake the facts, colonel; you are dreaming. my brother neil was a jacobite, curse him. but my father, i thank heaven, was as firmly for the house of hanover as you or i."
"if either of us is dreaming," declared the soldier, "i am afraid it is yourself, sir donald. surely you do not pretend that you never knew your father to be a bitter enemy of king george! surely you, his own son, cannot be ignorant of the fact that for months—ay, for years—before culloden, sir john leslie was secretly one of the most active friends and personal supporters of the young pretender?"
sir donald had risen to his feet, and now he strode thoughtfully to the end of the room and back.
"if you are speaking the truth, i have been ignorant indeed," he said, with a frown. he turned and continued moodily to pace the room. to and fro he strode with his twitching hands linked together behind his back. colonel ossington quietly puffed at his pipe, while young colin leslie, in his seat at the ingle, leaned forward staring at the two men in fixed attention. no word was spoken for many minutes, and all was silent saving only for the wild, boisterous rumbling of the wind in the chimney, and the regular shuffling tramp of sir donald leslie's slippered feet upon the bare oak floor. presently this latter sound ceased, and sir donald stood still, ruminating.
"i cannot believe it," he said at length, confronting colonel ossington. "on what grounds do you base your conviction?"
"on the surest of all grounds," returned the soldier, "his own admission, and also my certain knowledge that when charles edward stuart and his army of highlanders were encamped on the moor near here, sir john leslie supplied them not only with the food which they so sorely needed, but also with money, with arms, and with ammunition."
a fierce light leapt into the old man's eyes.
"it is false!" he cried, in a quivering voice; "it is false!" he stamped his foot. "i do not doubt that you yourself believe what you are saying. some knave or liar must have deceived you. but, all the same, it is not true. my father was as fervent a hanoverian as i was and still am. it was neil alone who was the skulking jacobite. ay, and to him i owe it that i am now so poor that i cannot even offer a chance visitor the hospitality that is his due. had my father been in sound health at the time of the rebellion, he would have joined the king's troops and fought as boldly as did my dear brother alan, who fell fighting bravely and loyally for king george on culloden moor."
"in that last particular you are again strangely in error," interrupted colonel ossington. "alan leslie took no part whatsoever in the battle of culloden. i, who was his comrade and friend, can testify also that he did not die a soldier's death—at least not upon the field."
"what!" cried the astonished sir donald. "are you certain of this?"
"i am," reiterated the colonel, "absolutely certain."
"then where in heaven's name was he?"
"here—in this house," returned ossington, knocking the ash out of his pipe and slowly reopening his tobacco-bag. "it was of him more particularly that i came here to speak with you. i wanted to learn something of his fate, whatever it may have been. but it seems you know as little of it as i do myself. we were companions in arms, he and i. it was while i was stationed in edinburgh that he joined major james wolfe's battalion of the fourth foot. i was then a young ensign. alan and i were quartered together, and we soon became fast friends. we sat at the same mess-table, we shared the same bottle of wine, we smoked the same pipe. when it was a question of fighting, as at prestonpans, we fought side by side."
sir donald filled his guest's glass anew. colin leslie continued silently to listen, believing that the old soldier was now coming to something more definite.
"in the spring of '46, you remember," went on the colonel, "the duke of cumberland's forces marched northward to aberdeen, in search of the rebels. from aberdeen we advanced to the town of nairn, and while there we heard that the pretender was concentrating his army of highlanders at a spot not many miles away from our encampment. alan leslie and i were sent out to reconnoitre. we made our way westward and discovered the enemy on culloden moor. believing that we might learn something further as to their intentions, alan induced me to accompany him to castle leslie, in the hope of hearing news from the lad's father, who was supposed, although erroneously, to be friendly to the king. we arrived here at dusk and were admitted into this same room."
the colonel's eyes wandered about the apartment as if in the endeavour to picture it as it had been at that earlier time.
"for some two hours," he continued, "we were left here alone. during that interval of waiting, alan told me the romantic story of bonnie belinda, the story being suggested by her portrait, which hung over yonder above the settle."
sir donald nodded and glanced across at the vacant place on the panelled wall.
"but at last," went on the speaker, "sir john leslie entered, with his plaid about his shoulders, as if he had newly returned from a journey. he regarded his soldier son with stony indifference."
"'well?' he demanded; 'what do you want here?'
"'i have come, sir,' stammered alan, surprised at this cold welcome. 'i have come——'
"his father bent forward with his hand resting on the table at his side, and almost touching alan's regimental cap with its bright brass badge.
"'you have come as a spy!' he cried bitterly, following up the accusation with a volley of virulent taunts. 'you ingrate!' he cried; 'you weak-kneed renegade! where is your patriotism? how dare you come here, wearing the uniform of the hateful foreign usurper whom you serve?'"
"he said that?" questioned sir donald agitatedly. "he—my father—said that?"
colonel ossington took up the fire-tongs and caught at a fragment of burning wood with which to light his pipe.
"those were his own words," said he; "and they were not less surprising to me than they were to alan leslie. i do not exactly remember what alan said in retaliation, but he taunted his father with being a jacobite, and, as he said, 'the follower of an upstart pretender'; and at these words sir john drew himself proudly together and stood at his full height, which i am sure must have been a good six feet. 'i will not have his royal highness so named in my presence,' he declared with a frown, and pointing to the door in all the dignity of his old age, he added: 'you are no son of mine, and i do not wish ever to see you again.'
"but even as he spoke, the door was opened from without, and a tall, singularly noble-looking young man entered with the majestic stride of a monarch. he was followed by a yet younger man. at sight of our red coats both new-comers started back in amazement. before either could speak, however, sir john had hurried the elder of them out of the room. the younger man, whom i rightly guessed to be neil leslie, stepped back and, looking into alan's face, smiled in recognition, and held out his hand. alan refused to accept this offer of friendship."
"ay, and quite right," interposed sir donald.
colonel ossington did not heed the interruption, but proceeded with his narrative.
"as the two brothers stood there, facing each other," he said, "i thought them the two handsomest youths i had ever beheld. alan, with his smart military bearing, his finely featured face and his glistening dark eyes; neil, somewhat taller, although younger, with fairer hair and more lithe figure, dressed in the picturesque highland costume, with his dark tartan kilt and his long flowing plaid, that was caught at the shoulder by a large silver brooch, set with a sparkling yellow stone."
on hearing this description of his great-uncle, young colin leslie moved from his seat at the fire to a vacant chair opposite to colonel ossington. it was evident that neil was in his eyes a hero.
"alan, i say, refused to accept his brother's proffered friendship. 'who was the young man that came to the door with you just now?' he demanded. and neil answered proudly, as he turned to leave the room: 'it was the prince whom i have the honour to serve—prince charles edward stuart.'"
"and he was once here—here in this very room?" murmured colin, with reverent enthusiasm. in his boyish imagination the room had been sanctified by the presence of the romantic adventurer.
"alan refused to accept this offer of friendship."
"continue," urged sir donald, with a black cloud in his face. "what happened next?"
"when neil had gone out of the room," said the old campaigner, "alan gave a mocking laugh. 'what do you think of them, jack?' said he. 'it seems to me we've dropped into a hornet's nest. it will be war to the knife with my father and me after this. which reminds me,' he added, crossing the room to the wall opposite the window there, 'this pretty dirk is mine. i may as well take possession of it.' and he took down a long-bladed, jewel-hafted dagger that was hung there under the picture of bonnie belinda. 'wait outside for me, jack,' said he; 'wait at the stable door. there's something else i want to do before we go back to nairn.' so i went out and waited at the stable. i waited for fully an hour. when alan joined me at last, he was a different man. he was strangely agitated—almost mad with passion and fierce vindictive rage against his father.
"'look here, jack,' said he, 'you'd better ride back to nairn at once—without me. i shall come on later—perhaps not until to-morrow morning. ride back as quickly as you can, and see the duke of cumberland. if you can't see him, go to major wolfe. tell him—tell either of them—that the rebel army is only some four thousand strong, but that the pretender has determined to attack the king's troops to-morrow. i have just heard this by accident. the three of them—charles stuart, my father, and that young scamp neil—have been closeted together. but i overheard them talking and unfolding their plans. there was only a thin curtain between us, and i heard every word. i heard my father saying that he had a store of arms and ammunition here in the castle for the use of the highlanders. two hundred muskets and as many swords, as well as ten thousand pounds in gold. these he offered to stuart, bidding him send for them at eleven o'clock to-night. the arms and the money are to be delivered to the messengers by my brother neil at the postern gate in the castle garden. they will be delivered, jack, if—if i don't prevent it, as i mean to do.'"
colonel ossington paused in his narrative. his gaze was fixed upon the earnestly attentive eyes and the white face of colin leslie. the boy seemed mentally to be associating this fact of the delivery of arms at the postern gate with the recently seen apparition of neil leslie. as for sir donald, he had now ceased to doubt colonel ossington's affirmations, and was as deeply interested in the narrative as was his grandson, although the sympathies of the two were directly at variance.
"ten thousand pounds in gold!" ejaculated sir donald in astonishment. "where on earth did it all come from?"
"i do not know," returned ossington. "probably it represented the contributions of the wealthy jacobites of the immediate neighbourhood."
"and did the highlanders get those guns and things in time to use them in the next day's battle?" colin ventured to ask. he breathed a sigh of disappointment when colonel ossington answered, with more conviction than the mere words implied—
"i believe not. alan leslie remained behind with the purpose of frustrating their delivery."
"ay, and did frustrate it, i'll be bound," interposed the grandfather. "alan was brave, he was strong and determined. he would stick at nothing! when did you next see him, colonel?"
"i never saw him again," replied ossington. "since that night when i left him his fate has been to me a complete mystery. on the next day, at nairn, when the muster-roll was called, he was absent. we advanced to culloden, and the battle was fought—if battle it may be called which was a mere rout. but alan leslie was nowhere on the field. when the highlanders had retreated, vanquished, and the duke of cumberland was pursuing his too terrible vengeance upon the innocent and the guilty alike, i searched among the wounded and the dead for my missing comrade, but nowhere could i find him. afterwards, i came here. your castle had been attacked and partly demolished by hawley's dragoons. sir john leslie, i heard, had gone the night before with charles stuart to the house of lord lovat, to be present at a council of war. he afterwards escaped with the fugitives—probably in company with his son neil."
"ay!" added sir donald; "and neil, i'll be bound, did not neglect to carry off the gold with him, and use it for his own selfish purposes; for the pretender never got the money. i'm thankful for that at least. that he should have it were worse even than that neil should squander it." the old man began again to stride to and fro across the floor. "neil was a villain!" he cried; "an ingrain villain and scoundrel. he ought to have been hanged with the rest of them! i could almost be content at the loss of the family fortunes if i might only know that the rascal had died an outlaw's death on the gallows. it was doubtless he who prevented alan from getting back to his regiment that night."
colonel ossington meditated a few moments in silence.
"yes," he said at length, "no doubt you are right. but in what way did he prevent him, sir donald? that is what i want most particularly to know."
"to my mind there is but one answer to that question," returned sir donald decisively. "my brother alan was not in the battle, you say. if he had been alive i am certain he would not have shirked his duty. but i believe he was not alive, colonel; i believe that he was murdered, and murdered by his own brother, neil leslie. that also would tally with the fact that since that fatal night, neil has never dared to show himself at his home."
colin leslie here ventured to break in with a remark.
"you have no right to say such a thing, grandfather," he said emphatically. "why should neil ever think of murdering alan? he had nothing to fear from him."
"you know nothing about the matter, boy," growled sir donald. "it is no business of an ignorant lad to discuss such a thing as this with his elders."
but colonel ossington did not so despise the boy's opinions.
"by the way, master colin," said he, "your ghost of this evening should have some bearing on this mystery. did you not say that the apparition was dressed in the highland kilt?"
"ghost!" echoed sir donald in astonishment. "what ghost? what apparition?"
"the ghost that i saw to-night when i went out with colonel ossington to the stables," returned colin; "the ghost of neil leslie. it went in at the postern gate; the gate where the arms and the money were to have been delivered."
"ah!" the old man drew his breath in sharply, "i have heard of that ghost before. old elspeth has seen it. once, also," he hesitated, listening to the angry blast of the wind; "once, also, on a wild, blustering night just such as this, i saw it myself. that was many years ago; but, i remember, it was at that same place—near the postern gate. probably the rascal's guilty conscience troubles him, even in his grave—if, indeed, he be in his grave."
there was a long pause, during which the wind howled even more piteously than before. colonel ossington emptied his glass and set it down with deliberate slowness upon the table at his elbow.
"i am persuaded that there was some foul play on that night," said he, in a low, clear voice. "but of course there can now be no proof. how could there be, after all these years?" he leaned forward with his open hands clasping his knees, and with his eyes fixed upon the fire. then he went on, as if speaking to himself: "some years ago, just after the taking of quebec, i chanced to make the acquaintance of an aged highlander, who had a bullet in his chest and was dying in the hospital. i learned that the man's name was david duncan. we got talking of the jacobite rebellion, and i discovered that he had been present at culloden. further conversation elicited the information that this same old highlander had been one of the pretender's messengers sent to castle leslie to convey the arms and money to the rebel encampment. duncan and his companions waited that night near the postern gate. they were at their post at eleven. they waited until three o'clock. but no one ever came to them and the arms were never delivered. while they waited, duncan heard a strange, weird cry, like a cry for help. whence it came he could not tell; neither did he know whether it was the cry of a man or of a woman. human it certainly was. it seemed, he said, to come out of the ground at his feet. it was then midnight."
the old clock in the outer hall struck eleven. sir donald leslie signed to colin, indicating that it was high time the boy was in bed. colin bade the two men good-night, but still lingered in the room for a few moments, hoping to hear more of this family mystery.
"i infer from what you have said," remarked colonel ossington, addressing his host, "that you have no knowledge of the secret place in which the military stores and the gold of which we have been speaking were hidden?"
"there is no such secret place in all the castle," returned sir donald. "of that i am quite certain. whether the rebels received the stores or not, the things were assuredly removed long before i returned to scotland."
these were the last arguments that colin leslie heard before he retired to bed. as he lay wakeful on his pillow, he reflected upon the story that had been revealed to him. the men had come to the conclusion that neil leslie, the jacobite, had murdered his own brother. "could this really be so?" thought colin. the boy wondered where and in what exact circumstances the tragedy had taken place. he wondered in which room the guns and swords and all those thousands of golden guineas had been hidden. colonel ossington had suggested a secret chamber as the probable receptacle; but colin knew every nook and cranny about the building, and he was forced to acknowledge to himself that his grandfather's words were true when he said, "there is no such secret place in all the castle."
