Part 2 (1/2)

'We must use our wits in this situation.' Alexander shook his head fiercely. 'You'll just have to trust me, won't you?'

said the Doctor. He turned and started pouring the iodine over the Laird's wound. The Laird stirred in pain.

Jamie was looking out of the tiny window. 'They seem to be moving off,' he said. 'Perhaps they won't come inside.'

3.

The Captives Algernon Ffinch was the very picture of a British officer from the mid 18th century. Elegantly turned out from his tricorn hat to his white stockings and buckled shoes, Algernon was handsome and had that ramrod stiffness in his spine that British officers throughout the centuries have always favoured.

He was standing on top of a small hill, gazing down the glen towards the cottage in which the Doctor and the Highland refugees were taking cover. Beside him there was a sergeant who presented a total contrast to the elegant, foppish Algernon. Sergeant Klegg was short, very broadly built, and after twenty years in the British army had seen every sort of action and felt himself a match for any situation. The Sergeant saluted and pointed down towards the cottage.

'We've sighted some rebels, sir. There was a shot, seemed to come from that cottage.'

'Rebels? Well, it's about time. They all seem to have melted into the heather.'

'Them cavalry blokes, the dragoons, were ahead of us.'

'Well,' Algernon shrugged his shoulders, 'I suppose they've driven them all the way to Glasgow by now. I wish they'd left us some pickings, though.'

'Those wot got away took their possessions with them, sir.'

Algernon nodded wearily. 'Let's hope so. Take two men round to the rear of the cottage, Sergeant, we'll outflank them.'

'Yes sir.' The Sergeant turned and signalled to two of his men. 'Hey, you two! Cut down there quick. And don't make too much noise about it!'

Algernon turned. 'Tell them to shoot first, and take no risks. Remember, these rebels will be desperate men by now. Savages, the lot of them.'

'Sir.' The Sergeant saluted and followed in the path of the two men.

Algernon turned to the remainder of his platoon, some fourteen soldiers. 'Right, men,' he called. 'Fix bayonets and advance in battle order.'

The soldiers with their red coats crossed with pipeclayed bandoliers, drew their bayonets out of their scabbards and fixed them to the ends of their long muskets. They spread out and started moving down the side of the glen through the thick heather towards the cottage.

Inside the cottage, the atmosphere was tense. Alexander, disregarding the Doctor and Ben's pistol, reached for his sword and went to the door. Jamie turned and ran after him.

'Must we be caught here like rats in a trap? We must run for it, mon.'

Alexander spoke through clenched teeth. 'And leave the Laird to their mercy? There is one chance and it's aye a slender one. I will try and draw them away from this cottage.'

The Doctor looked up from the Laird; he had finished bandaging the man's wound. 'Wait a minute...'

But Alexander was already out of the cottage and running out to face the oncoming English troops. He raised his claymore sword high above his head and called the bloodcurdling shrill rallying cry of Clan McLaren.

' Creag an tuire. Creag an tuire. ' '

There was a ragged chorus of musketry as the soldiers fell on one knee, raised their muskets, and fired at the Highlander. One of the musket-b.a.l.l.s. .h.i.t Alexander in the shoulder, and he staggered but continued his advance up towards the oncoming English troopers. The second rank of the English Redcoats fired. Alexander jerked convulsively as the b.a.l.l.s. .h.i.t him and slowly crumpled forward. He raised his claymore for one last act of defiance, but the sword dropped from his hand and he fell over face downward in the heather.

Jamie, standing by the door of the cottage, had witnessed it all and, upset, shrank back covering his eyes with his hand, unable to stand the sight of his friend's gallant but futile death. Behind him, Ben and the Doctor watched transfixed, as the Sergeant and the two troopers took up positions behind them with levelled bayonets.

'Surrender in the King's name!' The Sergeant's rough voice startled the three. Jamie looked wildly around for escape but, caught between the two troopers and the advancing circle of Redcoats, realised that escape was out of the question. Ben looked curiously at the Sergeant's red uniform and the tall hat.

'Blimey,' he said, 'it's nice to hear a London voice again.'

The Sergeant stepped forward fearfully. 'Silence you rebel dog.'

Ben started back. 'Rebel, what you talking about? I'm no rebel. Me and the Doctor here, we just arrived.'

The Sergeant shrugged his shoulders. 'Deserter, then.

You'll hang just the same.'

'Hang!' said Ben, astonished. 'Me? I'm on your side, you can't ' But the Doctor put his hand on Ben's shoulder and stepped forward.

To Ben's astonishment, the Doctor spoke in a heavy German accent. 'I am glad you hav come, Sergeant,' he said. 'I hav been vaiting for an escort.' The Sergeant was astonished at the Doctor's easy authority and his strange clothes.

'Who do you think you are then?' he said.

'Ven you find out,' said the Doctor, 'you vill perhaps learn to keep a civil tongue in your head, nein? Are you in charge here?'

While the Sergeant stared at him, speechless at being spoken to in this way by a man he considered one of the rebels, Algernon Ffinch came up to them having overheard the Doctor's words. 'No,' he said, 'I'm the officer here.'

The Doctor turned to him and bowed. 'Ah, a gentleman at last. Doctor von Verner at your service.' He clicked his heels and bowed again.

'Oh,' said Algernon. 'One of those demned froggies that came over with the Pretender, eh?'

That was too much for Ben. 'Froggies!' he said. 'Do we look like froggies?' He turned to the Doctor. 'He thinks we're French.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Ach, no. I am German, from Hanover where your King George comes from. And I speak English much better than he does.'

The Sergeant who had been keeping his temper with some difficulty now burst out. ''Ear that, sir? Treason it is!

Shall I hang them now?'

Algernon shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'W wait a moment.' He stumbled slightly over his consonants in a way approved by the London dandies of the time. He stepped into the cottage and looked around. 'Let's see who else we have here.'

Jamie tried to get between the officer and the bedroom where the Laird was resting, but the troopers seized hold of him and pulled him out of the way. Algernon walked through, followed by Ben, the Doctor, and the Sergeant, and looked over at the now unconscious Colin lying on the bracken bed.

'Who is that man?' he said. He turned to Jamie.

'Colin McLaren, the Laird,' said Jamie. 'And I'm his piper, Jamie McCrimmon, ye ken.'

The Sergeant turned and spat on the floor. 'A poor lot, sir,' he said. 'We'll get no decent pickings here. Let's hang them and have done.'