The hour for marching drew near; already the boats of the Vestal awaited us; but there was no appearance of Donald Roy, so the 'next man for duty,' was ordered to prepare to take his place.
The women had been balloted for at the drum-head; the two fortunate wives who were to accompany us were clinging in joy to their husbands' necks. The unfortunates who had drawn blanks were filling the barrack square with noisy lamentations. Adieux had been said, and hands shaken. Then the little column broke into sections of threes, and with the whole band of the battalion in our front, playing 'Lochaber no more,' and accompanied by our comrades' cheering, we left the ancient castle of Dumbarton just as the sun rose, and marched towards the landing-place.
As we proceeded to the bank of the river, a soldier, pale and breathless, dashed into our ranks, raised his hand to his bonnet, and cried aloud,—
'Major Catanagh—I am here!'
'Donald Roy!' exclaimed the soldiers with satisfaction, for this man was a favourite with all, and moreover was a famous sword-player and tosser of the caber.
'I knew that you would return, Donald,' said the major, with an approving smile.
'I have travelled day and night, running like a deer, Major Catanagh,' replied the soldier in a rapid whisper; 'I have had twelve miles to go, and as many to return; but I am young and active, and the ardour of grief bore me up, for I was determined to see the grave of my mother before I left my native place, perhaps for ever; and may heaven bless you, major, for the trust you have put in me. I am poor—but I never deceived any one. Oh, major, I have seen the woods of Cameron, the rocks of Ross-dhu, and the wilds of Rowardennan, places that you and I know well—but may never look upon again.'
'We shall, Donald—please God, we shall both see them again,' said Catanagh, with kindling eyes.
With kindly interest I looked on this pale and weary soldier, who spoke in my native Gaelic; but I had soon other thoughts in my heart, and in the ardour and excitement of embarking for foreign service and the seat of war, with the brattle of the drum and the blare of the brass band playing a stirring Scottish quick-step; the tread of marching feet, and the gleam of fixed bayonets round me, I was soon beyond the reach of tender or soft impressions.
The steam continued to roar at times through the safety-valve; the band continued to play, and our comrades to cheer, as our detachment went off in boat-loads to the Vestal, which was rapidly getting up all her horse-power. Her white canvas hung loose aloft, and her decks were crowded by groups of the sombre rifles below; but until I stood upon her poop and looked round me, I could scarcely realise the truth of my position, or that all this new phase of life, so strange to me, was not a dream.