Part 47 (1/2)

”I am thankful,” said the Colonel to Margaret. ”Murray told me you'd been taken to jail.”

”You heard the news with great content, I suppose,” said Margaret.

”I did, because--” He stopped to frown into the snuff-box.

”Because of what? Pray observe, gentlemen, what an affectionate father I have!”

”Because he also told me the name of your jailer!”

”You don't deserve to have a daughter,” declared Margaret, with such a pretence of vehemence that her cheeks, between and beneath her coils of yellow hair, blazed like two poppies in a wheat-shook.

”I've made up for it by deserving something even better, and that's a good supper. Pull the bell, Oliver!”

Arrived in the great chamber at Exeter House, we found Charles making his last stand. Feeling ran riot; there was little regard for the regents.h.i.+p of the Prince; true to itself to the end, the Stuart cause was dying in a babel of broken counsels.

The ladies of the party were collected, uncertain and disquieted, on the hearth, where Margaret joined them, while the Colonel and I made our way and stood behind the Prince.

”His Grace of Perth desires to go on,” said Charles. ”So does Glencoe. So do my faithful Irish friends. Your men, as you well know, expect to go on.

To get them to go back, you must start in the dead of night and lie to them, telling them they are going on. Only you, their chiefs and fathers, want to go back.”

”To h.e.l.l with the Iris.h.!.+” cried one from the background. ”They're no'

worth the dad of a bonnet.”

”It's no matter to them,” said another man by him. ”They've neither haid nor maid to lose.”

This fetched O'Sullivan to his feet in a tearing rage. ”We've got lives to lose,” he cried, ”and, by G--, we're not afraid to lose 'em!”

At this the yelling must have been heard in the square, and the gesticulating and grimacing would have been amusing on a less serious occasion. At last, in a lull in the gale, the Colonel, addressing the Prince, curtly demanded, ”Who is the chief military commander of your army, sir?”

”My Lord George Murray,” answered Charles bitterly.

”Then it's time your commander commanded. This spells disaster whether we go on or go back.”

”It's the plain truth you're telling, Colonel Waynflete,” said Lord Ogilvie loudly. In an undertone I heard him say, ”Oot wi' it, Geordie!”

When Murray arose, everybody knew the finis.h.i.+ng touch was to be put to the business, and a strained silence fell on the a.s.sembly.

”I have advised ye to go back, sir,” he said, ”because, in the complete absence of the support we were led to expect, it is foolish to go on. Your Royal Highness wants to go on, and there's not a man here who does not honour you for your courage. Now, sir, I will go on, and so shall every man here I can command or influence, if those who hae tell't ye behind my back that they think we ought to go on will put their opinion down in writing and subscribe their names to it, here and now. One condition more, sir. That writing, so subscribed, shall be sent by a sure hand direct from this town to His Majesty in Rome, so that he may judge each man justly.”

”I agree,” said Charles eagerly. ”Pen and paper, Mr. Secretary!”

It at once became clear, however, that Murray had taken the measure of the men he had to deal with.

”Why make flesh of one and fish of another?” asked O'Sullivan, and old Sir Thomas nodded approval of the question.

”The decision should be the decision of the Council,” said the Duke of Perth.