“I have heard,” was the answer, “you think the government will be vexed—disturbed at it?”
Jerome Caryl looked up from his letter.
“They were counting on settling the Highlands forever,” he smiled. “With fire and sword—they did not reckon on more than half taking the oaths—the Master of Stair and Breadalbane intended to massacre them wholesale.”
“You have clever spies to have discovered that much,” said Mr. Wedderburn, and under the table his hand was clutched tightly on his sword-hilt.
“I am in England for that,” was the answer. “To serve His Majesty. I have defeated the usurper on that well-planned cruelty.”
“There remain the Macdonalds,” said Mr. Wedderburn slowly.
Suddenly, up to the table, came Delia.
“They must be saved,” she said.
Her words rang in a little pause; she was clasping and unclasping her hands nervously, she turned her pure eager face to Mr. Wedderburn.
“Sir, you will help us save them?”