Part 33 (2/2)
”I am meaning just that.”
”I thought so from the first. 'Slife, man, do you think I can change my foes like gloves? _Chacun paie son ecot._”
”Why not? Iss not a man a better foe than a halfling boy?”
”I would never seek a better foe or a better friend than either you or Montagu, Captain. On my soul, you have both the true ring. But as to your offer I must decline it. The thing is one of your wild impracticable Highland imaginings, a sheer impossibility. You seem to think I have a blood feud and that nothing less than a foeman's life will satisfy me. In that you err. I am a plain man of the world and cannot reach your heroics.”
The Jacobite's face fell.
”You are going to let the boy die then?”
Volney hesitated, then answered with a shrug.
”I shall be frank with you. To-day I secured Montagu a reprieve for two weeks. He shall have his chance such as it is, but I do not expect him to take it. If he shows stubborn I wash my hands of him. I have said the last word. You may talk till Yule without changing my mind.” Then, with an abrupt turn of the subject: ”Have you with you the sinews of war, Captain?
You will need money to effect your escape. My purse is at your service not less than my wardrobe, or if you care to lie hidden here for a time you will be quite safe. Watkins is a faithful fellow and devoted to me.”
The Highlander flushed, stammering out:
”For your proffered loan, I accept it with the best will in the world; and as to your offer of a hiding-place, troth! I'm badly needing one. Gin it were no inconvenience----”
”None in the world.”
”I will be remembering you for a generous foe till the day of my death.
You're a man to ride the water wi'.”
”Lard! There's no generosity in it. Every Mohawk thinks it a pleasure to help any man break the laws. Besides, I count on you to help drive away the doldrums. Do you care for a hand at piquet now, Captain?”
”With pleasure. I find in the cartes great diversion, but by your leave I'll first unloose your man Watkins.”
”'Slife, I had forgot him. We'll have him brew us a punch and make a night of it. Sleep and I are a thousand miles apart.”
[3] The material for this chapter was furnished me with great particularity by Captain Donald Roy Macdonald. From his narrative to me, I set down the story in substance as he told it. --K. M.
CHAPTER XVII
THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW
There came to me one day a surprise, a marked hour among my weeks struck calm. Charles, Cloe, and Aileen had been wont to visit me regularly; once Selwyn had dropped in on me; but I had not before been honoured by a visit from Sir Robert Volney. He sauntered into my cell swinging a clouded cane, dressed to kill and point device in every ruffle, all dabbed with scented powder, pomatum, and jessamine water. To him, coming direct from the strong light of the sun, my cell was dark as the inside of Jonah's whale.
He stood hesitating in the doorway, groping with his cane for some guide to his footsteps.
For an instant I drew back, thinking he had come to mock me; then I put the idea from me. However much of evil there was in him, Volney was not a small man. I stepped forward to greet him.
”Welcome to my poor best, Sir Robert! If I do not offer you a chair it is because I have none. My regret is that my circ.u.mstances hamper my hospitality.”
”Not at all. You offer me your best, and in that lies the essence of hospitality. Better a dinner of herbs where love is than a stalled ox and hatred, Egad,” returned my guest with easy irony.
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