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Updated: May 16, 2025
You, my lord, have the one consolation left, that all's not bye yet with the cause you champion, and you may yet lead it to the highest victory." Argile took a grateful glance at me. "You know what I am," he said, "not a man of the happy, single mood like our friend Barbreck here, but tossed between philosophies.
He seemed in a swither as to whether I was a fit confidant or not in such a matter, but at last would appear to decide in my favour. "You have heard me speak well of Argile," he said, quietly.
Such spirit did my native pipes, played by a clansman, put in me that my weariness much abated, and we made great progress down the glen, so that before the tune had ceased we were on the back of Montrose's men as they crept on quietly in the night. The piper stopped suddenly enough when some shots rang out, an exchange of compliments between our pickets ahead and some wandering scouts of Argile.
M'Iver took on a set stern jaw, and looked his chief very dourly in the face. "My Lord of Argile," he said, "you're my cousin-ger-man, and you're in a despondent key, and small blame to you with your lands smoking about you from Cruachan to Kilmartin; but if you were King Tearlach himself, I would take no insult from you. Do you charge me with any of your misfortunes?"
If I got the bullet in my groin, I at least showed the Mackay gentleman in question that an Argile man could handle arquebus as well as arme blanche as we said in the France. I felled my man at one hundred and thirty paces, with six to count from a ritt-master's signal. Blow, present, God sain Mackay's soul! But I'm not given to braggadocio."
'As a man and soldier only, you might be better here at the onset, said Auchinbreac, who had a wily old tongue; 'but you are disabled against using sword or pistol; you are the mainstay of a great national movement, depending for its success on your life, freedom, and continued exertion. Argile took to the galley again, and Auchinbreac looked after him with a shamed and dubious eye.
I felt the tune stir me to the core, and M'Iver, I could see by the twitch of his face, kindled to the old call. "Curse them!" cried MacCailein; "Curse them!" he cried in the Gaelic, and he shook a white fist foolishly at the north; "I'm wanting but peace and my books. I keep my ambition in leash, and still and on they must be snapping like curs at Argile.
They never mustered at all, indeed, for the chieftains of the small companies that came from Glen Finne and down the country no sooner heard that the Marquis was off than they took the road back, and so Montrose and Colkitto MacDonald found a poltroon and deserted countryside waiting them. Eight hours after the beacon kindled on Dunchuach, the enemy was feeling at the heart of Argile.
"Perhaps not," said Argile, after a little, "perhaps not; but even the piping of the vent has something of prophecy in it, though the wind bloweth where it listeth. I have only a scholar's interest in these things, I give you my word, and " He laughed with a little restraint before he went on. "Do you know, John," he called out to M'Iver "do you know what our cailleach friend says of our jaunt?
"Name of God!" cried the bard in amaze, "you couldn't; it goes so" and he hummed the tune that every one in Argile and the west had been singing some years before. We pretended to listen with eagerness to recall a single strain of it, and affected to find no familiar note.
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