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Updated: June 5, 2025
He bore down on Athole, he and his towsy rabble, hoping to get the clans there to join him greedily for the sake of the old feud against MacCailein Mor, but the Stewarts would have nothing to say to him, and blows were not far off when Montrose and his cousin Black Pate came on the scene with his king's licence.
Splendid looked helpless for a bit, and then took up the policy that I learned later to expect from him in every similar case. "The best thing you could do, my lord. MacCailein Mor looked uneasy for all this open assurance. He set the child down with an awkward kiss, to be taken away by a servant lass who had come after him. "Would it not look a little odd!" he said, eyeing us keenly.
"Tut, tut!" he cried in Gaelic to the cailltach, "thou art a foolish old woman!" "God keep thee, MacCailein!" said she; "thy daddy put his hand on my head like a son when he came back from his banishment in Spain, and I keened over thy mother dear when she died. The hair of Peggy Bheg's head is thy door-mat, and her son's blood is thy will for a foot-bath."
"If I were you," said John in a little, "I would not put the finish on that ditty till I learned the end of the transaction. "When MacCailein comes here," said the bard, "he'll get a Badenoch welcome." "And that is the thief's welcome, the shirt off his very back," cried M'Iver. "Off his back very likely," said the bard; "it's the back we see oftenest of the bonny gentleman."
Then he started and looked at me, conscious that I might have some contempt for so frail an opening. "Did you come here to speak about the weather?" asked MacCailein, with a sour wearied smile. "No," said M'Iver, ruffling up at once; "I came to ask when you are going to take us back the road we came?" "To to overbye?" asked MacCailein, baulking at the name.
I counted ten tartans in as many minutes between the cross and the kirk, most of them friendly with MacCailein Mor, but a few, like that of MacLachlan of that ilk, at variance, and the wearers with ugly whingers or claymores at their belts. Than those MacLachlans one never saw a more barbarous-looking set.
Snugger they'd be by far in Stirling Lodge than here, I'll warrant. If I were not an old runt of a bachelor, it would be my first thought to give my women and bairns safety." MacCailein flew at the notion. "Just so, just so," he cried, and of a sudden he skipped out of the room. He called his Marquis everything but a man.
"Well," said I, "you were inclined to be calm enough with MacCailein when first we entered his room. I suppose all this uproar is over his charge of flattery, not against yourself alone but against all the people about." "That's just the thing," he cried, turning round and throwing his arms furiously about "Could he not have charged the clan generally, and let who would put the cap on?
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.
Would ye eat a meal with appetite while the Diarmaids wait in the way?" M'iver, who was plodding beside MacDonald when he said these words, gave a laugh. "Take your time, Sir Sandy," said he; "you'll need a bowl or two of brose ere you come to grips with MacCailein."
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