It was after four of the clock when a hand touched Wat's shoulder. He looked up alert on the instant with the trained wakefulness of the soldier. His eyes met those of the Lord Dundee, who, without a word, strode slowly up the stairs.
Wat rose and followed his general, making his toilet with a single shake of the plaid over his shoulder. Presently they stood together on the battlements, where Dundee leaned his elbow on the highest part of the wall and looked to the east. The sun was just rising between Ben-y-Gloe and Ben-y-Vrackie.
Dundee stood a long time looking round him before he spoke. Wat kept in the background, standing modestly by the edge of the tiles, where they went crow-stepping up to the rigging. He dared not intrude upon the thoughts or plans of his commander.
At last Dundee pointed with his hand, sweeping it over the sward beneath, which was black with Highlanders, all squadded according to their clans. Most of them still lay in their plaids, scattered broadcast as if they had been slain on the field of battle, with their claymores held in their arms as a mother holds a favorite child. But here and there a few early foragers were already busy gathering birch and dwarf oak to build the morning camp-fires, while down by the river, where the lowland cavalry were picketed, many blue columns of smoke arose.
"A bonny sight!" said the general, slowly. "Aye, a bonny sight! Three thousand men that are men, and not a feared heart nor an unwilling blade among them. And yet," he added, a little sadly, "if I were away, all that would break and vanish like yon white cloud crawling on the shoulder of Ben Vrackie."
He pointed to where the morning mist was trailing itself in quickly dissolving wreaths and vanishing wisps over the mountain.
"Aye, like the mist they came, and like the mist they will go—if I be not here the morrow's morn to lead them. Lochiell is wise indeed. He would command us all with skill and fortitude. But then, how Glen Garry and Keppoch would cock their bonnets at that! Sandy McLean there might hold the clansmen and take them to Edinburgh, yet Sandy is not chief even of his own clan, but an apple-cheeked lad, who thinks only of taking the eyes of maidens. Grown babes all of them—yet men whom I have welded into a weapon of strength to fight the king's warfare."
"Think you the enemy will attack us this day?" said Wat, with the deference of a young soldier to an elder, whose favor, though great, may not be presumed upon.
"They will come, indeed," said the general, "but it is we that shall attack. I would it had been a day or two later. For the Western men are not come in, and Lochiell hath not yet half his tail behind him. Nevertheless, 'twill serve. Mackay I mind of old—in the Dutch provinces—a good drill-sergeant that fights by the book; but a brave man—yes, a very brave man."
For as an unquestioned beauty is the first to acknowledge beauty in others, so John Graham could readily allow courage to his opponents.