‘Only a mutiny among these smuggling scoundrels,’ said Redgauntlet.
ONLY a mutiny, do you say?’ said Sir Richard Glendale; ‘and the lugger, the last hope of escape for,’—he looked towards Charles,—‘stands out to sea under a press of sail!’
‘Do not concern yourself about me,’ said the unfortunate prince; ‘this is not the worst emergency in which it has been my lot to stand; and if it were, I fear it not. Shift for yourselves, my lords and gentlemen.’
‘No, never!’ said the young Lord ———. ‘Our only hope now is in an honourable resistance.’
‘Most true,’ said Redgauntlet; ‘let despair renew the union amongst us which accident disturbed. I give my voice for displaying the royal banner instantly, and—How now!’ he concluded, sternly, as Lilias, first soliciting his attention by pulling his cloak, put into his hand the scroll, and added, it was designed for that of Nixon.
Redgauntlet read—and, dropping it on the ground, continued to stare upon the spot where it fell, with raised hands and fixed eyes. Sir Richard Glendale lifted the fatal paper, read it, and saying, ‘Now all is indeed over,’ handed it to Maxwell, who said aloud, ‘Black Colin Campbell, by G—d! I heard he had come post from London last night.’
As if in echo to his thoughts, the violin of the blind man was heard, playing with spirit, The Campbells are coming,’ a celebrated clan-march.
‘The Campbells are coming in earnest,’ said MacKellar; they are upon us with the whole battalion from Carlisle.’
There was a silence of dismay, and two or three of the company began to drop out of the room.
Lord ——— spoke with the generous spirit of a young English nobleman. ‘If we have been fools, do not let us be cowards. We have one here more precious than us all, and come hither on our warranty—let us save him at least.’