“Blithe would I be to cross the steel with you, but little that would help Kenneth. My plan is this: save the lad from the halter and I will tak’ his place.”
“You mean that if I compass his freedom you will surrender to be executed?”
“I am meaning just that.”
“I thought so from the first. ’Slife, man, do you think I can change my foes like gloves? Chacun paie son écot.”
“Why not? Iss not a man a better foe than a halfling boy?”
“I would never seek a better foe or a better friend than either you or Montagu, Captain. On my soul, you have both the true ring. But as to your offer I must decline it. The thing is one of your wild impracticable Highland imaginings, a sheer impossibility. You seem to think I have a blood feud and that nothing less than a foeman’s life will satisfy me. In that you err. I am a plain man of the world and cannot reach your heroics.”
The Jacobite’s face fell.
“You are going to let the boy die then?”
Volney hesitated, then answered with a shrug.
“I shall be frank with you. To-day I secured Montagu a reprieve for two weeks. He shall have his chance such as it is, but I do not expect him to take it. If he shows stubborn I wash my hands of him. I have said the last word. You may talk till Yule without changing my mind.” Then, with an abrupt turn of the subject: “Have you with you the sinews of war, Captain? You will need money to effect your escape. My purse is at your service not less than my wardrobe, or if you care to lie hidden here for a time you will be quite safe. Watkins is a faithful fellow and devoted to me.”