"'Strike well, Cameron, and you will have your revenge,' said he, waving his bonnet as he added, 'God bless King James the Eighth, and send death to the Elector of Hanover!'
"'Shoot him! bayonet him! Forward!' cried Cumberland in a tempest of fury, and with the hoarse accents of rage. 'Blow out the brains of the insolent rebel!'
"But the aged speaker of the treason had disappeared, and although the prisoners were narrowly searched twice over, he could no where be found, and the fury of the duke was boundless. What became of the old man, no one knew. He disappeared suddenly from amidst them; but whether he sunk into the earth or melted into thin air, remains yet a mystery; but the Highlanders were filled with terrors, and every man drew his plaid closer around him, and shrunk from the touch of his neighbour. After threatening the English trooper with the lash and triangles if he did not vanquish his opponent, he commanded the combat to begin without further delay. The dragoon cast aside his leather gloves, and drawing his long blade, stood upon the defensive. My father belted his plaid tighter about him, drew his bonnet over his brow, and rushed, in the northern fashion, headlong on his adversary, who was compelled to retire backwards, acting only on the defensive. Burning with hatred and fury, my father pressed forward, heedless of the weapon of the soldier, in whose broad breast he buried the dirk of the mysterious Highlander, and then gathering all his force for one mighty effort with the claymore, he clove the unfortunate dragoon down to the neck, cutting even the folds of his white cravat.
"'Well done, Cameron! Hoigh! for Lochiel!' cried Colonel Campbell. 'Now your highness will perceive what thews and sinews the mountains can produce. I have gained my bet. Your countryman the major is likely to continue one a little longer, and the crown-piece will go to my good champion.'
"'King George has lost a true man,' replied the duke fiercely, 'and hell is cheated of a Scots rebel for a short time longer. Well now, dog of a Highlander! you have missed the gallows this time; but I believe only a little time will elapse before you dance yet to the hangman's hornpipe.'
"At this supposed smart remark a loud laugh arose among his glittering staff, and was echoed by the soldiery; but a prouder and more triumphant shout burst from the unfortunate Gaelic prisoners. Many a gallant battle-cry mingled with it. Fraoch-eilan! A dh'aindeoin cotheireadh! Craigellachie! from the men of Glengarry, Clanronald, and Strathspey. Loud and long they shouted in defiance, till the crimson cheeks and carbuncles of the corpulent duke turned white with vexation and fury. When the commotion had subsided Colonel Campbell put a few crown-pieces into my father's hand, and pointed to the hills.
"'Begone now,' said he, 'and thank your mother for giving you such good milk, and for making such a man of you.[*] Away! the mountains are before you, and you are once more a free man.'
[*] These were the very words used by Colonel Campbell when his singular combat terminated, after the field of Culloden. See any History of the Civil War, 1745-6.
"'I want not your gold or your silver, sir!' said my father, tossing the pieces on the bloody grass. 'Your money is the wages of treason to Scotland, and rebellion against King James. I heed not your frown, sir. God will now be the best judge between your cause and ours, after this fatal day. Keep your money, and I will, with your permission, retain the claymore; it may yet be drawn for King James the Eighth.'
"And without vailing his bonnet, or deigning to bestow a glance on Cumberland, he broke through the ranks of Wolfe's regiment, and made off with all speed towards the mountains of the Grants' country, where he hoped to remain in safe hiding until the clans gathered together once more, or the present danger had passed away. After concealing himself in the Chlachdhian, or sheltering-cave of Cairn-gorm, and after wandering for days in Duthil and Inverallan, and being sorely hunted and pressed by the parties of red-coats scouring and devastating the country, he found himself one night compelled to take refuge in the great fir forests of Grant of Rothiemurchus, the whole country from Lorn to the mouth of the Spey being infested with bands of the sidier roy. Beacons of destruction, by night and by day, blazed on hill and in valley, while the proud halls of long-descended chieftains and the green huts of their faithful vassals were given indiscriminately to the flames; and the shrieks of helpless women and children were borne on the breeze, which had so lately swelled with the piobrachd and march of the Highlander. It was a sight indeed to make him thirst for vengeance, when nightly he looked forth from the cavern of the blue mountain to behold the sky red with the fires of the destroyer. But, alas! the neck of the Gael was bending beneath the foot of the stranger, and the power of the proud race who would never bend, was then broken.