The officer bowed, and now turning to Terence, "You will please, also, sir, consider yourself as my prisoner. Your rashness and folly have placed you in a very precarious predicament. Serjeant," he added, addressing a non-commissioned officer, "remain here, keeping six men with you, with these gentlemen, till I return; and see that you guard against escape."
Saying this, he again bowed, and left the apartment. In a minute after he was mounted, and off with his troop, in pursuit of some object of a similar kind with that which had brought him to Duntruskin.
"This is a devil of a business, Mac," said Terence, when the officer had left the apartment; then sinking his voice, so as to be heard only by Malcolm—"but I think we three might clear the room of these fellows, if we set to it with right good-will. What say you to try? I'll begin."
"Hush," said M'Gregor, under his breath—"madness, Terence, madness. We are fairly in for it, and must just abide the consequences. Our doom is sealed. In plain English, we must hang for it, Terence."
"Faith, and that we won't, if we can help it, Mac; and we'll try whether it can be helped or not," said Terence. "We'll get the fellows drunk, if we can, and that will be always one step gained.—I say, serjeant," he added, now speaking out, and confronting the person he addressed, "I think you're a countryman of my own."
"I don't know, sir," replied the serjeant, in a brogue that at once showed Terence's conjecture was right—"I am from Ireland."
"I thought so," rejoined the latter. "I saw potatoes and butter-milk written on your sweet countenance as plain as a pike-staff. Perhaps, now, you wouldn't have any objection to take a small matter of refreshment yourself, nor to allow your men to partake of it, if our friend, Mr Cameron here, would be kind enough to offer it."
"No, certainly not, sir," replied the serjeant.
"Mr Cameron," continued Terence, and now turning to the person he named, "would ye be good enough to order a little whisky for the lads here; for we'll have a long march of it by and by, and they'll be the better of something to help them over the stones."
A large black bottle of the stimulative spoken of by Terence was instantly brought; when the latter, installing himself master of the ceremonies, seized it, and began to deal about its contents with unsparing liberality.