Part 10

When we awoke somewhat refreshed, we were able, through the kindness of Lady Dundonald, to procure guides on whose faithfulness she assured us we might rely. She further advised us to make our way to Loch Airkaig, in Lochiel's country, "for there you will find those you seek, though I am not supposed to know such things, and still less to be harbouring the Prince's men in Dundonald's absence," she said, smiling.

"Madam," said Father O'Rourke, "you have only done an act of Christian charity of which your own good heart must approve, and which has done much to comfort us in our own hard case. We have a right to look for kindness in woman, but we do not always look for sensibility such as you have evinced."

"Captain Lynch, you make me ashamed of my poor efforts, and I pray you and Captain McDonell to receive them as some token of my regret this thing should have happened among my own people."

"Madam," said I, "you cannot be held responsible for being a McKenzie."

"No more than you for being a dundering blockhead," said Father O'Rourke, rudely.

"That is merely his way of saying, madam," he continued, with a bow, "that your kindness to us will place you in our minds above all other women, whatever name they may ornament."

So thereupon I left the compliments to him, as I never made any pretence to skill in the art, and proceeded to get our baggage in order.

I received the bag of guineas again into my charge, and taking a respectful leave of this most amiable lady, we set forth.

We had no cause to complain of our guides, who were faithful and intelligent, and led us almost due south over wild and almost inaccessible mountains, for all the roads and even open places had to be avoided on account of parties of the English who were scouring the country in all directions; and, to our impatience, we wasted many days lying close when the danger was too pressing, so that we were nearly three weeks in making the journey.

At last we drew near to Loch Airkaig, and from where we looked down I saw a body of Highland troops. We came forward without hesitation, and, on answering their sentries in Gaelic, which had come back to me readily enough after a little practice, I satisfied them of our intents and they allowed us to approach.

"Whose command are you?" I asked.

"Young Coll Barisdale," was the answer.

"We are in luck; come on," I cried, "these are my own people, and are commanded by my cousin, Coll McDonell of Barisdale."

"I suppose you'll be related to nearly every man of note we'll meet in the country now," Father O'Rourke said, with a laugh.

"Very near," said I; "but come on."

As we approached my cousin came out to meet us, and I remembered his face though I had not seen him since I was a lad.

"Well, Barisdale, and how are you?" said I, not making myself known, but willing to put a joke on him.

"Sir, you have the advantage of me," says he, drawing himself up mighty stiff; "I do not remember that I ever had the honour of seeing you before."

"Man, man!" I said, "and is that the way you will be disowning your kith and kin--this comes of consorting with Princes," I said, aside, with a droll look to Father O'Rourke. "Things have come to a pretty pass when Barisdale does not know Scottos because he wears a foreign uniform."

At this he saw my end and received us most courteously. "Come away, come away, you and Captain Lynch, too! Well! well! to think of my meeting with Little John, grown up into a man. 'Tis enough to make me feel like a grandfather!" and we all sate down under some pines and heartily discussed the meat and drink his people set before us.

His news was bad enough, but I was greatly relieved to hear Mr. Secretary Murray was with Lochiel at his seat of Auchnacarrie, and that though Lochiel had been badly wounded through both legs, he was recovering, after having made the narrowest of escapes as he was borne thither. That a meeting of Lord Lovat, Lochiel, Glengarry, Glenbucket, and others had taken place at Murlagan, near the head of the Lake, on the fifteenth of May--we were now at the twentieth--that it was decided to gather what men could be found, and either make a stand or obtain terms from the Duke of Cumberland, now at Fort Augustus. Lochgarry, Colonel Donald McDonald, would be here to-morrow with the rest of Glengarry's regiment, and he, Coll, had just gathered these men in our own country, Knoidart, and was on his way slowly to the rendezvous at Glenmallie, but he could not count even on his own men with any certainty, as there had been no pay, and the want at home was heart-breaking. It was the same story that drove the loss of the money deeper and deeper into my heart like a crying that would not be stilled. He did not know what had become of the Prince, but assuredly he had not been killed in the battle, as he had passed by Loch-na-Nuagh, in Arisoig, on the twenty-first of last month, and that doubtless, ere this, Lochiel would have had tidings of him. I told Barisdale we would proceed on the morrow to Auchnacarrie and see Mr. Secretary Murray, and would then determine on our future movements.

After a long night, we took a guide and men to carry our baggage and set out--the first comfortable marching we had yet done, for the weather was fine and there was no more danger of meeting an English soldier here than in the Corso. We recovered our old spirits; indeed, we had done so the moment we fell in with our own people.

That same evening we arrived at Auchnacarrie, and were most kindly received by Lochiel, a perfect figure of a Highland gentleman; indeed, he reminded us much of our own gallant Colonel MacDonnell, who fell at Velletri. There he was, lying in a state most men would have found evil enough, with most likely a reward out for his capture, dead or alive, his fortunes broken and his house falling about his ears. But he banished all thought of his personal loss and suffering in his anxiety to fittingly provide for the entertainment of his guests, who were constantly arriving; to soothe those who were finding fault with everything from the beginning, and they were many; to hold together his men, who were desperate and almost at the point of mutiny for arrears of the pay so sadly needed; and, above all, to inspire somewhat of his own great spirit into the downhearted. Truly, a man one might worship!

I had almost a hesitation in meeting him, for it was my Uncle Scottos whom the Prince had sent to induce him to join his Cause, and I could not but reflect on what the outcome had been. But at his first words my apprehensions vanished. "Welcome, McDonell!" he said, "we have a common loss, and that is enough for friendship. Donald McDonell was as good a gentleman as ever drew sword, and I am proud to welcome his nephew."

Mr. Secretary Murray we found very different from the gentleman we had seen in the Santi Apostoli; he had lost all his fine airs, and, as Father O'Rourke said, had as much rattle to him as a wet bladder. From the bottom of my heart I wished that my business had been with his host instead of him. Indeed, I remember the curious feeling came over me that I would with as much confidence hand over the money to Creach as to him. Not that I then had any doubt of his honesty--for I will not pretend to be a prophet now that everything is over--but I had rather pin my faith to a stout scamp provided he have some sense of honour--and I have met few men without it in my time--than to an indifferent honest man who is badly frightened.

However, as I had my orders, and it was not for me to question them, I handed over the five hundred guineas with the Duke's letters and took his receipt for them, at the same time promising to give him a statement in writing of the robbery at Loch Broom, signed by Father O'Rourke and myself, in the morning.

"And now, Mr. Secretary, I would like to ask a private question," I said. "Did Creach--or Graeme, if you like--ever deliver the money he was entrusted with?"

"I do not know; I never received any," he answered, hurriedly, and then asked, anxiously, "have you heard anything of him?"

"Heard of him? Damn his smooth, white face! We have heard of him, and seen him, and had a taste of his quality, too! He was at the bottom of this robbery, or my name is not McDonell! And hark you, Mr. Secretary. Your head, and better heads too, I will add without offence, are not worth a tallow dip while that scoundrel is above ground. Think you vermin of his kind will run any risk while safety is to be bought by a little more of his dirty work? He will sell you and Lochiel, and, God help him, the Prince too, if he has opportunity, and you only have yourselves to thank for it."

His own face was as white as Creach's by this time, and, seeing nothing was to be gained by going farther, now that I had relieved my mind, I left him to sleep on the pillow I had furnished and returned to Lochiel's, where I found him and Father O'Rourke in as lively a conversation as if there were not a trouble within or without the four walls.

"Well, McDonell," he said, "I have to thank you for the day you joined forces with Father O'Rourke and marched on my poor house of Auchnacarrie. 'Tis the best reinforcement I have had for many a long day."

"Faith, 'tis a long day since we began campaigning together," laughed the priest. "It all began in the inn at Aquapendente," and thereupon he must tell the story of our adventure with Creach, at which Lochiel laughed heartily; indeed, Father O'Rourke's stories seemed to jump with his humour, and he was never tired of his company during the time we spent with him.

A day or so afterwards, it was proposed that I should cross the Lake with Mr. Secretary Murray to hold a consultation with Lord Lovat, at Glendesherrie, bearing messages from Lochiel. Thither we went and found an old man bent with illness and his own weight, and of a temper most uncertain. Indeed, he did nothing but grumble and swear most of the time we were there, and at first would return no sensible answer to the projects we laid before him.

"Why in the name of all that is evil do you come to me with your fiddle-faddle plans when I am ready to step into my grave?" he grumbled. "Whom am I to believe? Where in the devil are the sixteen thousand men that were coming from France? Where are the ships with supplies and money that were only waiting for a fair wind? Has no wind blown off the coast of France since it blew the Prince here last July with a beggarly following not fit for a private gentleman? Had he come absolutely alone it might have been better, for then he would have been without some of his rattle-brained councillors, not even excepting yourself, Mr. Murray of Broughton," the old man said, with a sneer and a low bow that brought the blood in a rush to Mr. Secretary's face. "If even money had been sent, something might have been done--might be done even yet; but here are these men clamouring for return to their homes, where their wives and little ones have been starving and dying for want of support, and this, too, when no man can say how long his head will be above his shoulders. Pay the men who are here! Let them send something to their homes in the hills, and I'll answer for it they will stand even yet. But, my God! how can you ask human creatures to do more than they have done, with starvation at home as well as in their own bellies?

"And what has your Prince done? Pranced and prinked at balls, and chucked silly wenches under the chin. Listened to the blatherings of Irish adventurers, greedy only for themselves. Estranged, if not insulted, every man of weight and sensibility. Made paper proclamations and scattered paper titles that will rob the men who receive them of life and lands and everything else."

"Not everything, my Lord," I objected, for I was tired of this long tirade; "honour is left."

"Honour!" he snorted, "and who are you to talk of honour? A fine specimen you have given us of it, not to carry a sum of money that I would have entrusted to one of my drovers."

"I know nothing of your drovers, my Lord, and I beg leave to withdraw, as I cannot stay and listen to insults, which your age and infirmities prevent my answering as they deserve."

"You can answer them till you're black in the face, if that's any satisfaction to you! And, what's more, if you will but provide me with a new backbone and another pair of legs, nothing would give me a greater pleasure than to see some of your new-fangled tricks at the fence. Tell me now," he went on, in an entirely new tone, "did you ever learn anything abroad better than your Uncle Scottos taught you at home?"

"Never," I answered, somewhat softened. And the strange part is that before I parted from his Lordship I was only full of admiration for his courage and address; for, now that he had blown off all his black vapours, no one could be more engaging, and he discussed each plan with a keen insight that was admirable. He questioned me much on Rome and my experiences, and was very apt with his bits of Latinity, which I made no effort to cap, I think a little to his disappointment, until I saw that he began to weary, for his infirmity was visible upon him. So we took leave, and I shook hands for the first and last time with Simon Fraser, Lord Lovat.

We returned to Auchnacarrie that same evening, and the next day one Donald McLeod came and was closeted for a long while with Lochiel and Mr. Secretary Murray. When he left, I was told he was from the Prince, who was in a safe place, and that my letters were confided to his care. I never dreamed at the time of enquiring about the money I had handed Murray, supposing it had gone too, but long afterwards was told by McLeod himself that Mr. Secretary had informed him that he had only sixty louis d'ors, which was barely sufficient for himself, so he went back to the Prince without a shilling of the money that the Duke had raised with so much pains, and which I had so hardly delivered.

At the time I discovered this, I put Mr. Secretary down as low as Creach; but feeling then ran high against him, and nothing was too black to lay at his door; but since then I have considered it like enough that old fox, Lovat, may have wheedled it out of him, for he was in such miserable fear that he was easy to work upon; and, at all events, the man had quite enough on his weary shoulders without this addition to carry about through the rest of his miserable life. And if I am right that Lovat got it, it was a rare turn of justice that Mr. Secretary should be the one who swore away his life.

At daybreak--it was the 27th of May--we were expecting to be awakened by the General Gathering on the pipes, but instead we were awakened by the warning notes of the "Cogadh no Sith" (War or Peace) and rushed out to hear the news that Lord London was advancing upon us, hardly a quarter of a mile distant. Our eight hundred men were gathered at once, and Lochiel, being borne by four stout Highlanders, made his escape in a boat which was kept for such an emergency, while we set out in all haste for the west end of Loch Airkaig, which we reached just in time to escape another body of soldiers sent to intercept us.

At dusk we separated with sad farewells but brave wishes, and by bodies, which quickly dwindled smaller and smaller, every man took his own way, and the last stand for Prince Charles was at an end.

VIII

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.

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.

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.