The girl nodded, with sparkling eyes; but Sir Perseus questioned:
“How?”
“That,” answered Jerome Caryl, “is what I have come to consult with you about—after I had clearly seen the objects of these men there seemed but that one thing to do—to warn the Highlands and give them King James’s permission to take the oaths.”
“But—” said Sir Perseus, “do we not by that lose the support of the Highlands—if we should—as I hope to—organize a rising in Scotland?”
“No—a Highlander does not look on an oath as a sacred thing, my dear Perseus, ’tis said Breadalbane himself tells them to take Prince William’s money to spend for King James—and under what possible pretext can we continue to ask them to hold out? The King’s last gift was a few bottles of wine—let them take the thousands of the government and buy muskets with it for our use.”
“Do you think,” answered Sir Perseus—“that we can overcome the fierce hate of the Campbells? Will the clans submit to Breadalbane whatever we say?”
“If they are frightened enough,” said Jerome. “If they realize that all England is behind him they will submit.”
Delia broke in suddenly:
“And my Highlander shall take the warning,” she cried. “He shall carry home this news.”
Jerome looked up interested: “A Macdonald, did you say?”