“I saw the King to-day,” he said. “He asked where you were—Argyll and Breadalbane are desirous to see you about these Highlands.”
“Yes,” said the Master gloomily. “But the damned thieves have all come in except the Macdonalds of Glencoe—which minds me. I should send those letters to-night—I have the maps of Glencoe. The pass of Rannoch must be secured. The Laird of Weem must close Strath Tay—then with Breadalbane one side, Argyll the other—I think I have the villains.”
The Viscount drew a paper out of his desk.
“I had the report from Scotland this morning,” he said composedly. “The Macdonalds have taken the oath.”
The Master of Stair turned, incredulous, furious.
“Taken the oath!” he cried.
“Yes.” His father twisted his wry neck over the paper. “So the commander of the forces says.”
Sir John stood silent a moment; when he spoke it was in a quiet tone.
“It need make no difference—I have vowed to make an example of those Glencoe men and will do it.”
The Viscount nodded.