CHAPTER VIII
CHARLES EDWARD STUART
A beautifully engrossed invitation to the Prince's ball having dulyarrived from his Secretary the Chevalier O'Sullivan, I ask you to believethat my toilet Tuesday evening was even more a work of art than that ofSunday. In huge disorder scarfs, lace cravats, muffs, and other necessaryequipment were littered about the room. I much missed the neat touch of myvalet Simpkins, and the gillie Hamish Gorm, whom Major Macleod had put atmy service, did not supply his place by a deal, since he knew no more ofpatching the face or powdering a periwig than he had arrived at by thelight of nature. But despite this handicap I made shift to do myselfjustice before I set off for the lodgings of Lord Balmerino, by whom I wasto be presented.
'Twas long since the Scottish capital had been so gay as now, for a partof the policy of the Young Chevalier was to wear a brave front before theworld. He and his few thousand Highlanders were pledged to a desperateundertaking, but it was essential that the waverers must not be allowed tosuspect how slender were the chances of success. One might have thoughtfrom the splendour of his court and from the serene confidence exhibitedby the Prince and his chiefs that the Stuarts were already in peaceablepossession of the entire dominions of their ancestors. A vast concourse ofwell-dressed people thronged to Holyrood House from morning till night topresent their respects to Prince Charles Edward. His politeness andaffability, as well as the charms of his conversation and the graces ofhis person, swept the ladies especially from their lukewarm allegiance tothe Hanoverians. They would own no lover who did not don the white cockadeof Jacobitism. They would hesitate at no sacrifice to advance the cause ofthis romantic young gambler who used swords for dice. All this my threedays residence in the city had taught me. I was now to learn whether apersonal meeting with him would inspire me too with the ardent devotionthat animated my friends.
A mixed assembly we found gathered in the picture gallery of HolyroodHouse. Here were French and Irish adventurers, Highland chiefs and Lowlandgentlemen, all emulating each other in loyalty to the ladies who hadgathered from all over Scotland to dance beneath the banner of the whiterose. The Hall was a great blaze of moving colour, but above the tartansand the plaids, the mixed reds, greens, blues, and yellows, everywherefluttered rampant the white streamers and cockades of the Stuarts.
No doubt there were here sober hearts, full of anxious portent for thefuture, but on the surface at least was naught but merriment. The gayestabandon prevailed. Strathspey and reel and Highland fling alternated withthe graceful dances of France and the rollicking jigs of Ireland. Plainlythis was no state ceremonial, rather an international frolic to tune allhearts to a common glee. We were on the top of fortune's wave. Had we notwon for the Young Chevalier by the sword the ancient capital of hisfamily, and did not the road to London invite us southward? The pipers ofeach clan in turn dirled out triumphant marches, and my heart began tobeat in faster time. Water must have filled the veins of a man who couldstand unmoved such contagious enthusiasm. For me, I confess it, a climaxcame a moment later that made my eyes swim.
Balmerino was talking with Malcolm Macleod and James Hepburn of Keith, amodel of manly simplicity and honour who had been "out" in the '15; and asusual their talk fell on our enterprise and its gallant young leader.Keith narrated a story of how the Young Chevalier, after a long day'smarch on foot, had led the army three miles out of its way in order toavoid disturbing the wife of a cottar who had fallen asleep at thecritical stage of a severe illness. Balmerino capped it with anotheranecdote of his dismounting from his horse after the battle of Gladsmuirto give water and attendance to a wounded English soldier of Cope's army.
Macleod smiled, eyes sparkling. "He iss every inch the true prince. He cantramp the hills with a Highlander all day and never weary, he can sleep onpease-straw as well as on a bed of down, can sup on brose in five minutes,and win a battle in four. Oh, yes, he will be the King for MalcolmMacleod."
While he was still speaking there fell over the assembly a suddenstillness. The word was passed from lips to lips, "The Prince comes."Every eye swept to the doorway. Men bowed deep and women curtsied low. Ayoung man was entering slowly on the arm of Lord George Murray.
"The Prince!" whispered Balmerino to me.
The pipes crashed out a measure of "Wha'll be King but Charlie?" then fellinto quiet sudden as they had begun. "Dhia theasirg an Righ!" (God savethe King) cried a splendid young Highland chief in a voice that echoedthrough the hall.
Clanranald's cry was lifted to the rafters by a hundred throats. A hundredclaymores leaped to air, and while the skirling bagpipes pealed forth,"The King shall enjoy his own again," Charles Stuart beneath an arch ofshining steel trod slowly down the hall to a dais where his fathers hadsat before him.
If the hearts of the ladies had surrendered at discretion, faith! we ofthe other sex were not much tardier. The lad was every inch a prince. Hisafter life did not fulfil the promise of his youth, but at this time hewas one to see, and once having seen, to love. All the great charm of hisrace found expression in him. Gallant, gracious, generous, tender-heartedin victory and cheerful in defeat (as we had soon to learn, alas!), evenhis enemies confessed this young Stuart a worthy leader of men. Usuallysuffused with a gentle pensiveness not unbecoming, the ardour of hiswelcome had given him on this occasion the martial bearing of a heroicyoung Achilles. With flushed cheek and sparkling eye he ascended thedais.
"Ladies, gentlemen, my loyal Highlanders, friends all, the tongue ofCharles Stuart has no words to tell the warm message of his heart.Unfriended and alone he came among you, resolved with the help of goodswords to win back that throne on which a usurper sits, or failing in thatto perish in the attempt. How nobly you our people have rallied to ourside in this undertaking to restore the ancient liberties of the kingdomneeds not be told. To the arbitrament of battle and to the will of God weconfidently appeal, and on our part we pledge our sacred honour neither tofalter nor to withdraw till this our purpose is accomplished. To thisgreat task we stand plighted, so help us God and the right."
'Tis impossible to conceive the effect of these few simple sentences.Again the pipes voiced our dumb emotion in that stirring song,
"We'll owre the water and owre the sea, We'll owre the water to Charlie; Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go, And live and die wi' Charlie."
The mighty cheer broke forth again and seemed to rock the palace, butdeeper than all cheering was the feeling that found expression inlong-drawn breath and broken sob and glimmering tear. The gallant lad hadtrusted us, had put his life in our keeping; we highly resolved to proveworthy of that trust.
At a signal from the Prince the musicians struck up again the dance, andbright eyes bedimmed with tears began to smile once more. With a whisperedword Balmerino left me and made his way to the side of the Prince, aboutwhom were grouped the Duke of Perth, Lord Lewis Gordon, Lord Elcho, theill-fated Kilmarnock, as well as Lochiel, Cluny, Macleod, Clanranald, andother Highland gentlemen who had taken their fortune in their hands at thecall of this young adventurer with the enchanting smile. To see him was tounderstand the madness of devotion that had carried away these wisegray-haired gentlemen, but to those who never saw him I despair ofconveying in cold type the subtle quality of charm that radiated from him.In the very bloom of youth, tall, slender, and handsome, he had a grace ofmanner not to be resisted. To condescend to the particulars of his person:a face of perfect oval very regular in feature; large light blue eyesshaded by beautifully arched brows; nose good and of the Roman type;complexion fair, mouth something small and effeminate, forehead high andfull. He was possessed of the inimitable reserve and bearing that mark theroyal-born, and that despite his genial frankness. On this occasion hewore his usual light-coloured peruke with the natural hair combed over thefront, a tartan short coat on the breast of which shone the star of theorder of St. Andrews, red velvet small-clothes, and a silver-hiltedrapier. The plaid he ordinarily carried had been doffed
for a blue sashwrought with gold.
All this I had time to note before Lord Balmerino rejoined me and led meforward to the presentation. The Prince separated himself from the groupabout him and came lightly down the steps to meet me. I fell on my kneeand kissed his hand, but the Prince, drawing me to my feet, embraced me.
"My gallant Montagu," he cried warmly. "Like father, like son. God knows Iwelcome you, both on your own account and because you are one of the firstEnglish gentlemen to offer his sword to the cause of his King."
I murmured that my sword would be at his service till death. To put me atmy ease he began to question me about the state of public feeling inEngland concerning the enterprise. What information I had was put at hisdisposal, and I observed that his grasp of the situation appeared to beclear and incisive. He introduced me to the noblemen and chiefs about him,and I was wise enough to know that if they made much of me it was ratherfor the class I was supposed to represent than for my own poor merits.Presently I fell back to make way for another gentleman about to bepresented. Captain Macdonald made his way to me and offered a frank handin congratulation.
"'Fore God, Montagu, you have leaped gey sudden into favour. Deil hae't,Red Donald brought with him a hundred claymores and he wasna half sokenspeckle (conspicuous). I'll wad your fortune's made, for you hae leapedin heels ower hurdies," he told me warmly.
From affairs of state to those of the heart may be a long cast, but themind of one-and-twenty takes it at a bound. My eye went questing, fell onmany a blushing maid and beaming matron, at last singled out my heart'sdesire. She was teaching a Highland dance to a graceful cavalier in whitesilk breeches, flowered satin waistcoat, and most choicely powderedperiwig, fresh from the friseur. His dainty muff and exquisite cloudedcane depended from a silken loop to proclaim him the man of fashion.Something characteristic in his easy manner, though I saw but his back,chilled me to an indefinable premonition of his identity. Yet an instant,and a turn in the dance figure flung into view the face of Sir RobertVolney, negligent and unperturbed, heedless apparently of the fact thatany moment a hand might fall on his shoulder to lead him to his death.Aileen, to the contrary, clearly showed fear, anxiety, a troubled mind--tobe detected in the hurried little glances of fearfulness directed towardher brother Malcolm, and in her plain eagerness to have done with themeasure. She seemed to implore the baronet to depart, and Volney smilinglynegatived her appeal. The girl's affronted eyes dared him to believe thatshe danced with him for any other reason than because he had staked hislife to see her again and she would not have his death at her door.Disdain of her own weakness and contempt of him were eloquent in everymovement of the lissom figure. 'Twas easy to be seen that the man wasworking on her fears for him, in order to obtain another foothold withher. I resolved to baulk his scheme.
While I was still making my way toward them through the throng theydisappeared from the assembly hall. A still hunt of five minutes, and Ihad run down my prey in a snug little reception-room of a size to fit twocomfortably. The girl fronted him scornfully, eyes flaming.
"Coward, you play on a girl's fears, you take advantage of her soft heartto force yourself on her," she was telling him in a low, bitter voice.
"I risk my life to see the woman that I love," he answered.
"My grief! Love! What will such a thing as you be knowing of love?"
The man winced. On my soul I believe that at last he was an honest lover.His beautiful, speaking eyes looked straight into hers. His mannerisms hadfor the moment been sponged out. Straight from the heart he spoke.
"I have learnt, Aileen. My hunger for a sight of you has starved my follyand fed my love. Believe me, I am a changed man."
The play and curve of her lips stung him. He flung himself desperatelyinto his mad love-making. "'Belle Marquise, vos beaux yeux me font mourird'amour,'" he quoted from Moliere. "'Tis true, Aileen; I die of love; itburns me up," he added passionately, hungry eyes devouring the flyingcolours of her cheek, the mass of rippling hair, the fresh, sweet, subtlefragrance of her presence.
"You'll have to hurry about it then, for on my soul you're due to die oftightened hemp to-morrow," I told him, lounging forward from the door.
The girl cried out, eyes dilating, hand pressing to the heart. For theman, after the first start he did not turn a hair. The face that lookedover his shoulder at me was unmoved and bereft of emotion.
"My malapropos friend Montagu again. Devil take it, you have an awkwardway of playing harlequin when you're not wanted! Now to come blundering inupon a lady and her friend is-- Well, not the best of form. Better drop itbefore it becomes a habit," he advised.
"'Slife, 'tis tit for tat! I learnt it from you," was my answer.
Long we looked at each other, preparing for the battle that was to come.Save for the quick breathing of the girl no sound fell.
"Sir Robert, your audacity confounds all precedent," I said at last.
"You flatter me, Mr. Montagu."
"Believe me, had Major Macleod discovered you instead of me your soul hadby this time been speeding hellward."
"Exit Flattery," he laughed. "The lady phrased it less vilely. Heavenward,she put it! 'Twould be interesting to know which of you is right."
"As you say, an interesting topic of speculation, and one you're like tofind the answer of shortly, presupposing that you suffer the usual fate ofcaptured spies."
His brows lifted in polite inquiry. "Indeed! A spy?" he asked,indifferently.
"Why not? The favourite of the Hanoverian usurpers discovered in ourmidst--what other explanation will it bear?"
He smiled. "Perhaps I have a mind to join your barelegged rebellion."
"Afraid your services are not available, Sir Robert. Three hundred Macleodclaymores bar the way, all eager to wipe out an insult to the daughter ofRaasay. Faith, when they have settled their little account against youthere won't be much left for the Prince."
"Ah! Then for the sake of argument suppose we put it that I'm visitingthis delightful city for my health."
"You will find the climate not agree with you, I fear."
"Then say for pleasure."
"'Twill prove more exciting than amusing."
"On my life, dear Kenn, 'tis both."
"I have but to raise my voice and you are undone."
"His voice was ever soft, gentle, and low, an excellent thing in Kenneth,"he parodied, laughing at me.
The girl said never a word, but her level eyes watched me steadily. Noneed of words to tell me that I was on trial! But I would not desist.
"You appear not to realize the situation," I told him coldly. "Your lifeis in hazard."
The man yawned in my face. "Not at all, I sit here as safe as if I were atWhite's, and a devilish deal better satisfied. Situation piquant! Companyof the best! Gad's life, I cry content."
"I think we talk at cross purposes. I am trying to have you understandthat your position is critical, Sir Robert."
Nonchalant yet watchful, indolent and yet alert, gracefully graceless, hewatched me smilingly out of half-closed eyes; and then quietly fired theshot that brought me to.
"If you were not a gentleman, Montagu, the situation would be vastlydifferent."
"I do not see the point," I told him; but I did, and raged at it.
"I think you do. Your lips are sealed. I am your rival"--he bowed toAileen--"for the favour of a lady. If you put me out of the way by playinginformer what appearance will it bear? You may talk of duty till the worldends, but you will be a marked man, despised by all--and most of all byKenneth Montagu."
The man was right. At one sweep he had spiked my guns, demolished mydefenses. The triumph was sponged from my face. I fumed in a stress ofimpotence.
"I don't know about that. I shall have to think of it. There is a duty toperform," I said at last, lamely.
He waved a hand airily. "My dear fellow, think as long as you please. Youcan't think away facts. Egad, they're immutable. You know me to be no spy.Conceded that I am in a false position. What can you
do about it? Youcan't in honour give me up. I'faith, you're handcuffed to inaction."
I was, but my temper was not improved at hearing him tell it me so suavelyand so blandly. He sat smiling and triumphant, chuckling no doubt at thedilemma into which he had thrust me. The worst of it was that while I wasostensibly master of the situation he had me at his mercy. I was ahelpless victor without any of the fruits of victory.
"You took advantage of a girl's soft heart to put her in a position thatwas indefensible," I told him with bitter bluntness. "Save this ofthrowing yourself on her mercy there was no other way of approaching her.Of the wisdom of the serpent you have no lack. I congratulate you, SirRobert. But one may be permitted to doubt the manliness of such acourse."
The pipers struck up a song that was the vogue among our party, and ayoung man passed the entrance of the room singing it.
"Oh, it's owre the border awa', awa', It's owre the border awa', awa', We'll on an' we'll march to Carlisle Ha', Wi' its yetts, its castles, an' a', an' a'."
The audacious villain parodied it on the spot, substituting two lines ofhis own for the last ones.
"You'll on an' you'll march to Carlisle Ha', To be hanged and quartered an' a', an' a',"
he hummed softly in his clipped English tongue.
"Pity you won't live to see it," I retorted tartly.
"You're still nursing that maggot, are you? Debating with yourself aboutgiving me up, eh? Well that's a matter you must settle with yourconscience, if you indulge in the luxury of one."
"You would never give him up, Kenneth," said Aileen in a low voice."Surely you would not be doing that."
"I shall not let him stay here. You may be sure of that," I saiddoggedly.
The girl ventured a suggestion timidly. "Perhaps Sir Robert will beleaving to-morrow--for London mayhap."
Volney shook his head decisively. "Not I. Why, I have but just arrived.Besides, here is a problem in ethics for Mr. Montagu to solve. Strengthcomes through conflict, so the schools teach. Far be it from me to removethe cause of doubt. Let him solve his problem for himself, egad!"
He seemed to find a feline pleasure in seeing how far he could taunt me togo. He held me on the knife-edge of irritation, and perillous as was theexperiment he enjoyed seeing whether he could not drive me to give himup.
"Miss Macleod's solution falls pat. Better leave to-morrow, Sir Robert. Tostay is dangerous."
"'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, mylord fool, 'out of this nettle danger, we pluck this flower safety,'" hequoted.
"I see you always have your tag of Shakespeare ready; then let me remindyou what he has to say about the better part of valour," I flung back, foronce alert in riposte.
"A hit, and from the same play," he laughed. "But a retreat-- 'Tis not tobe thought of. No, no, Montagu! And it must be you'll just have to give meup."
"Oh, you harp on that! You may say it once too often. I shall find a wayto get rid of you," I answered blackly.
"Let me find it for you, lad," said a voice from the doorway.
We turned, to find that Donald Roy had joined the party. He must have beenstanding there unobserved long enough to understand my dilemma, for heshot straight to the mark.
"Sir Robert, I'll never be denying that you're a bold villain, and that isthe one thing that will be saving your life this night. I'm no' here toargie-bargie with you. The plain fact is just this; that I dinna care arap for you the tane gate or the tither (the one way or the other). I'dlike fine to see you dancing frae the widdie (gallows), but gin the ladywants you spared I'll no' say her no. Mr. Englisher, you'll just gie meyour word to tak the road for the border this night, or I'll give a bitcall to Major Macleod. I wouldna wonder but he wad be blithe to see you.Is it to be the road or the Macleod?"
I could have kissed the honest trusty face of the man, for he had liftedme out of a bog of unease. I might be bound by honour, but CaptainMacdonald was free as air to dictate terms. Volney looked long at him,weighed the man, and in the end flung up the sponge. He rose to his feetand sauntered over to Aileen.
"I am desolated to find that urgent business takes me south at once, MissMacleod. 'Tis a matter of the gravest calls me; nothing of less importancethan the life of my nearest friend would take me from you. But I'm afraidit must be 'Au revoir' for the present," he said.
She looked past the man as if he had not existed.
He bowed low, the flattery of deference in his fine eyes, which knew sowell how to be at once both bold and timid.
"Forgiven my madness?" he murmured.
Having nothing to say, she still said it eloquently. Volney bowed himselfout of the room, nodded carelessly to me as he passed, touched Macdonaldon the arm with a pleasant promise to attend the obsequies when theHighlander should be brought to London for his hanging, lounged elegantlythrough the crowded assembly hall, and disappeared into the night.