“You know so much, my lord,” said the taller man, with that outspoken candor which is so taking, “that I may as well tell you all. We have held commissions in the army, and are, I suppose, officers to-day, though they will be wondering where we are, and we should be shot if we were caught. You will excuse me giving our names, for they could not be easily kept. We belong to families which have ever been true to their king, and we came north to take a share in the good work. That is the only way that we could manage it, and we do not fancy it overmuch, but we have taken our lives in our hands for the adventure.”
“You are men of spirit, I can see,” said Dundee ironically, “but ye are wise men also, and have reduced your risks. Would you do me the favor of showing the passes with which you provided yourselves before leaving England? Save yourselves the trouble of––argument. One of you has got his pass in his coat, and the other in his boot. I’m sure you would not wish to be stripped.”
The shorter man colored with vexation and 281 then paled, but the other only laughed like a boy caught in a trick, and said, “There are quick eyes, or, more likely, quick ears, in this army, my lord.” Then, without more ado, they handed Lord Dundee the passes. “As I expected,” said Dundee, “to the officers of King William’s army, and to allow the bearers to go where they please, and signed by his Majesty’s secretary of state.” And Dundee looked at them with a mocking smile.
“Damn those passes!” said the spokesman with much geniality. “I always thought we should have destroyed them once we were safely through the other lines, but my friend declared they might help us afterwards in time of need.”
“And now, gentlemen, they are going to hang you, for shooting is too honorable for spies and, worse than spies, assassins, for,” concluded Dundee softly, “it was to shoot me you two loyal Cavaliers have come.”
The shorter man was about to protest, in hope of saving his life, but his comrade waved him to be silent, and for the last time took up the talk.
“We are caught in a pretty coil, my lord. Circumstances are against us, and we have nothing to put on the other side, except our word of honor as gentlemen. Neither my comrade nor I are going to plead for our 282 lives, though we don’t fancy being hung. But perhaps of your courtesy, if we write our names, you will allow a letter to go to General MacKay, and that canting Puritan will be vastly amused when he learns that he had hired us to assassinate my Lord Dundee. He will be more apt to consider our execution an act of judgment for joining the Malignants. We got our passes by trickery from Lord Nottingham, and they have tricked us, and, by the gods! the whole affair is a fine jest, except the hanging. I would rather it had been shooting, but I grant that if MacKay had sent us on such an errand, both he and we deserve to be hung.” And the Englishman shrugged his shoulders as one who had said his last word and accepted his fate.
He carried himself so bravely, with such an ingenuous countenance and honest speech, that Claverhouse was interested in the man, and the reference to MacKay arrested him in his purpose. They were not likely to have come on such an errand from MacKay’s camp without the English general knowing what they were about. Was MacKay the man to sanction a proceeding so cowardly and so contrary to the rules of war? Of all things in the world, was not this action the one his principles would most strongly condemn? Certainly their conversation by the 283 riverside had been suspicious, but then Grimond had made one hideous mistake before. It was possible that he had made another. Graham had insulted his loyal wife through Grimond’s blundering; it would be almost as bad if he put to an ignominious death two adventurous, blundering English Cavaliers. He ordered that the Englishmen should be kept under close arrest till next morning, and he sent the following letter by a swift messenger and under flag of truce to the general of the English forces.
Blair Castle, July 26, 1689.
To Major-General Hugh MacKay, Commanding the forces in the interests of the Prince of Orange.
Sir: It is years since we have met and many things have happened since, but I freely acknowledge that you have ever been a good soldier and one who would not condescend to dishonor. And this being my mind I crave your assistance in the following matter.
Two English officers have been arrested in disguise and carrying compromising passes; there is reason to believe that their errand was to assassinate me, and if this be the case they shall be hung early to-morrow morning.
Albeit we were rivals in the Low Country and will soon fight our duel to the death, I am loath to believe that this thing is true of you, and I will ask of you this last courtesy, for your sake and mine and that of the two Englishmen, that ye tell me the truth.
I salute you before we fight and I have the honor to be,
Your most obedient servant,
Dundee.