“Ha! tell me, good Dallas, how did they cross?” demanded the lady.
“They just fuirded through the Spey, mem, in three grand deveesions, at three different pairts, just for a’ the warld as gin ye had been rollin’ aff three different pieces o’ red ribban, like, at yae time,” replied Dallas.
“A glorious sight!” cried the Pensassenach.
“Aye, truly, ye wad hae said sae had ye seen’t, mem,” said Dallas; “gin ye had seen them wi’ the sun glancin’ on their airms, and on the flashin’ faem o’ the Spey! Every bone o’ them got safe across, exceppin yae dragoon that had taen a wee thoughty ower muckle liquor, and fell fae his horse,—and four weemen fouk, wha were whamled out o’ a bit cairty, and wha were a’ carried down, and a’ drooned outright.”
“Poor wretches!” said the Pensassenach. “But it was well they were not men: their lives were comparatively but little worth.”
“I daur swear that you’re right there, mem,” said Dallas; “little worth followers of the camp they were, nae doot;—and yet the hizzies were weel pit on. I followed the bodies as they soomed down the water, and cleekit ane o’ them ashore, and although her mutch was gane, she had a gude goon and a daycent rocklay on, and ither things forbye; but they ware a’ sae spiled wi’ the water, that I selt them till a woman in Elgin for an auld sang. But I’ll tell ye what it is, mem, weemen—that is, daycent weemen—have nae business——”
“You have no business with the women, Mr. Dallas,” interrupted the Pensassenach impatiently—“it is of the men—of the troops, and of their noble and gallant leader that I would hear. All across, said you? and what became of the other Duke?” continued she, in a contemptuous tone. “I mean the rebel Duke—the Duke of Perth, I mean? Where was he, and where were his heroes, that they did not arrest the progress of the Royal army?”
“Troth, mem, the Duke o’ Perth and his men just came on their ways wast the country, and left the English airmy to cross at their ain wull,” replied Willy.
“Bravo! bravo!” shouted the lady, waving her hand around her head. “The false knaves dared not to face them! Well, any more news, Dallas?”
“I ken nae mair that I hae to tell ye,” said Dallas, “exceppin’ that I was in the English camp yestreen mysel’, and that I selled a wheen caumrick pocket-napkins, and three yairds o’ black ribban, till yere brither, Captain John, and I promised to ca’ in by this way aince eerant to tell ye that he was weel, and to drink his health.”