"I'll go," he said simply, and crossing to the other side of the island permitted himself to be helped into a boat, and rowed to the Arisaig side.
For the next hour there raged a battle royal between the red-coats and the Frasers under Muckle John. Again and again they tried to take the island by storm but the fierce fire of the defending force drove them back to firing over the sides of their boats, and in the confusion no thought was given to the rear of the island and the flight of Simon, Lord Lovat.
At last in a brief respite Muckle John ordered the Frasers to the boats and pushing off they rowed with all haste out of range of the island upon which the English landed in due course.
On reaching the mainland Muckle John said farewell to the Frasers and limping into the shadows of the trees went his way. But late that night in a cave upon the side of Glen Morar he took the third piece of Fraser tartan from his sporran and threw it into the fire.
"It is a reckoning," he said in his heart, "that is more fitted for English hands than mine."
Near Meoble on the seventh day of June the soldiers came upon Lord Lovat hiding in a hollow tree. He had dismissed his followers in order to lead his pursuers off the trail. Quite alone, sitting upon his strong box, he surrendered his sword with his customary dignity and permitted himself to be taken on board the sloop Furnace.
As he was assisted up the side he encountered Captain Strange looking over the bulwark. Well he knew Strange's reputation as a spy and secret agent.
"I am sorry to see your lordship in this plight," said Strange with an undercurrent of malice in his voice.
Behind Lovat they brought his strong box, and when he saw it there he pursed his lips, but said nothing.
"The men report they were on the trail of Muckle John a day or two since," resumed Strange meaningly, "anything your lordship can tell us will not be forgotten. He is a dangerous man."