"We are not yet in the Broad Wynd of Stirling," said Rob, confidently; "but set me free for five minutes—put my broadsword in my hand, and here, on this plot of grass, will I fight you face to face and foot to foot—ay, with three of your best men, if you choose."
"I do not fight with felons," replied Montrose, loftily.
"Will you not meet me like a brave,—I cannot call you an honest, man?"
"I do not fight with felons," was again the cutting reply.
MacGregor crimsoned with passion, and exclaimed hoarsely,—"Woe to you, dastard duke! Alas, that I should ever speak thus to one who bears the good name that was borne by the Great Marquis, the gallant Dundee!"
"Enough of this," said the duke, also becoming red and husky with passion. "To horse, gentlemen, and away for Stirling. Colonel Grahame, bind the villain to one in whom you can place implicit trust, and let him be well watched. The man who permits him to escape, I will pistol with my own hand!"
MacGregor was secured to a horse behind a trooper, whose waistbelt was passed through the belt from which his sword and pistols were taken; his hands were also tied behind, so that it was impossible for him either to slip or leap off; and in this ignominious fashion, escorted by nearly four hundred of the duke's local militia, horse and foot, he was carried away a prisoner.
As they departed from the Haunted Well, he gazed sadly at the stiffened corpse of his faithful friend and foster-brother, Callam, son of the arrow-maker,—one who had never failed him in many an hour of peril, and whose remains were left where he fell, and where a cairn now marks his grave.
The captors had to travel with great secrecy, lest the country people should rise to the rescue of Rob Roy; but with all their speed the journey of twenty miles towards the banks of the Forth occupied the whole day, so rough and roadless was the district through which they marched, down by Glenfinglas and Bochastle, through the pass of Leney and by the beautiful Braes of Callender; and many a wistful glance their unfortunate prisoner cast back to the mountains; for they looked down on his secluded home, where his wife and children dwelt, and where ere long they would be bewailing him in hopeless sorrow.