“A hit, and from the same play,” he laughed. “But a retreat— ’Tis not to be thought of. No, no, Montagu! And it must be you’ll just have to give me up.”
“Oh, you harp on that! You may say it once too often. I shall find a way to get rid of you,” I answered blackly.
“Let me find it for you, lad,” said a voice from the doorway.
We turned, to find that Donald Roy had joined the party. He must have been standing there unobserved long enough to understand my dilemma, for he shot straight to the mark.
“Sir Robert, I’ll never be denying that you’re a bold villain, and that is the one thing that will be saving your life this night. I’m no’ here to argie-bargie with you. The plain fact is just this; that I dinna care a rap for you the tane gate or the tither (the one way or the other). I’d like fine to see you dancing frae the widdie (gallows), but gin the lady wants you spared I’ll no’ say her no. Mr. Englisher, you’ll just gie me your word to tak the road for the border this night, or I’ll give a bit call to Major Macleod. I wouldna wonder but he wad be blithe to see you. Is it to be the road or the Macleod?”
I could have kissed the honest trusty face of the man, for he had lifted me out of a bog of unease. I might be bound by honour, but Captain Macdonald was free as air to dictate terms. Volney looked long at him, weighed the man, and in the end flung up the sponge. He rose to his feet and sauntered over to Aileen.
“I am desolated to find that urgent business takes me south at once, Miss Macleod. ’Tis a matter of the gravest calls me; nothing of less importance than the life of my nearest friend would take me from you. But I’m afraid it must be ‘Au revoir’ for the present,” he said.
She looked past the man as if he had not existed.
He bowed low, the flattery of deference in his fine eyes, which knew so well how to be at once both bold and timid.
“Forgiven my madness?” he murmured.