“Then he is no’ so bad at character reading,” commented Argyll.
The Viscount and Breadalbane laughed, but the Master of Stair peremptorily cut them short:
“My lords, let us understand each other plainly. Once the thing is resolved upon, let it be swift and sudden—better to leave it alone than bungle it.”
“’Tis the only way,” said Breadalbane. “No enemy will enter Glencoe save by craft.”
“I did not say craft, my lord,” cried the Master of Stair. “I said let it be done swiftly and suddenly—I will send a regiment from Fort William to sweep Glencoe clear of these bandits—another to stop the passes—you and my Lord Argyll shall hem them in—(yet I hope there will be no fugitives)—and so the thing is done. The name of Macdonald will be cleared from Argyllshire and Invernesshire.”
Breadalbane’s pale eyes sparkled.
“Will you trust the commander of Fort William?” he asked.
“No—the second in command, Hamilton—a man anxious to make his way. He will serve our purpose. The soldiers must be Campbells—you will have a man, my lord, fitted to lead them.”
“Glenlyon,” said Breadalbane.
“You will know best. There must be no prisoners.”