How we supped with a thief, and the outcome thereof.

There were one or two ragged creatures near by watching us as we landed, but though we shouted to them and made signs, they not only refused to come to our aid, but made off amongst the rocks as we advanced.
"Well, Giovannini, is your heart bursting with pride over your country and countrymen?" asked Father O'Rourke, in Italian, as we struggled and panted with our loads over the rough track up the hillside under the hot spring sun.
"Indeed, this is none of my country, thank God! This only belongs to the McKenzies," said I, ashamed somewhat of the reception we had met.
"Oh, indeed! and to what particular tribe of cattle do they belong?" he asked.
I stopped short in my way and dropped my portmanteau, determined to put an end to his nonsense at once.
"Now, Father O'Rourke—" I began, but he interrupted me with:
"Captain Lynch, if you please, Mr. McDonell, and your superior, remember, as regards rank!" drawing himself up to his full height. He looked so droll standing there in his fine uniform, with his sword and cocked hat and bag wig quite à la mode de Paris, that I could not help bursting out laughing.
He waited until I was done, and then said, very gravely, "Well, 'pon my word! but I'm rejoiced that I've found my way to your funny-bone at last. But if the sight of a fist like this and a foot like that are the only approaches to a Highlander's sense of humour—and I am bound to apply the back of the one and the toe of the other whenever I am forced to a jest—I take it, my better part is to make poor Captain Lynch a sad dog like yourself."
"Mr. McKenzie," he ran on, addressing our guide, who, it was plain to see, was much puzzled at our behaviour, "are you much given to humour in these parts?"
"No sir," he answered, "none that I ever heard of."
"Then why in the name of the Isle of Man did you take up with that creature you brought on board ship?"
Seeing the poor man was bewildered, I explained that his companion, Mr. Graeme, was meant.
"Och, him—-he would just be coming to Colin Dearg with the others after the battle."
"Is that old Colin Dearg, Laggy?" I asked.
"None other," he answered; "and it is to him, very probable, that Ardloch will be sending you."
Ardloch, I explained to Father O'Rourke, was a Mr. McKenzie, to whose place we were bound, and Colin Dearg, or Red Colin, another, both staunch Jacobites.
"Well, well, 'tis a puzzlesome country this, where the men not only do without breeches, but throw off as well the names their fathers gave them; had I known more, I needn't have used such punctilio in borrowing the Captain's. Would not O'Rourke of Brefni, or just Brefni, tout court, have a grand sound; seeing it wouldn't be decent for me to go in petticoats, and I am anxious to make a good impression?"
But I would not answer him, for I could see he was in one of his most provoking humours; so I shouldered my portmanteau and trudged on, and he was forced to follow.
He was not abashed, however, and tried to draw out McKenzie; but the latter was shame-faced and could hardly answer to his follies, so I had to beg him to desist, as the poor man could not understand his funning.
"I don't find him different from the rest of his countrymen," he returned; but I would not answer.

Ardloch received us warmly, and gave us a hearty meal, with good whiskey to follow, and then proposed we should hire a boat—leaving McKenzie behind, as it was better Father O'Rourke's transformation should not be talked over—and go up Little Loch Broom to Laggy, where we would find a number of officers, fresh from the Prince, who might give us some directions where to look.
"Do you look upon everything as lost?" I asked him, at parting.
"That depends on what you mean by 'everything,'" he answered, slowly. "If you mean any attempt to bring the rebellion to life again now, I would say yes. But if you mean to keep the fire alive, then no. The clans cannot all be scattered as yet, for nothing goes to pieces in that way, and I doubt not but there will be some for making a stand in spite of all. But money must be had to keep them together. They have been out since August last, and no Highlander will stay away from home long, even for fighting. 'Tis against all custom. What plunder they got is long since gone, and they will be wearying for home. For home! God help them, many will never see it again! But money, Mr. McDonell—if money can be had, men can be had too, and the Prince can, at the worst, be safely covered until the time opens for escape."
Then my heart rose within me for the first time, for in my hands lay the possible means of safety for the Hope of all loyal hearts.

We at once proceeded, and before nightfall reached Laggy, where we were met by old Colin Dearg, a burly, bearded ruffian with a great shock of red hair, Big William McKenzie of Killcoy, a major, and Murdock McKenzie, a lieutenant in the Earl of Cromarty's Regiment, with about sixty men, and thought ourselves as safe as in the heart of France.
We learned that some were still in arms for Prince Charles, especially the regiment of Glengarry, in which were my kinsmen and friends, and that of Cameron of Lochiel. So we begged for an early supper, and engaged guides and a horse that we might set out at once to join them.
Our baggage and little stores we had carried up from the beach, but I was much annoyed at hearing one of the men, on lifting my portmanteau, remark it was "damned heavy."
"Do you think we are such fools as to travel without powder and ball in time of war?" said I, and hoped it had passed unnoticed; but the fellow threw it down outside the house door, saying lead would not suffer for a little fresh air, at which old Colin Dearg laughed, and said:
"No doubt such gentlemen will have their ruffles there. I will carry it in myself."
"Don't think of it," said I, much put out, and, raising it, I placed it in a corner of the room where I could easily keep my eye on it, and wished from the bottom of my heart we could set off.
Old Colin Dearg was most offensive, although pretending to an extreme courtesy. He disclaimed having seen Creach, or Graeme, since the day before, but we were certain this was a blind, as we could see he knew who the supposed Captain Lynch was, and kept pushing him with questions about the Imperial service, until I feared for the latter's temper. But nothing could move Father O'Rourke when he had not a mind to it, and he rattled on as though he noticed nothing.
The old man pretended to rate the women who were preparing our supper, but I knew well it was all a pretext, though why he was anxious to keep us I could not make out. At length, when he could delay no longer, we sate down in a great room, but, to my dislike, in total darkness, save for the little blaze on the hearth and what light could reach us through the open door. This was bad enough; but on sitting down with the officers, and a Mr. Gordon, who was to be of our company, the room was speedily filled with the riff-raff of men idling about, who took their places behind us.
Colin Dearg would not sit down with us, but pretended to busy himself bustling about and shouting out orders to the women and encouragements to us to eat heartily of his fare, which he called by all the wretched names in the world, though it was good enough. I was most uneasy, but Father O'Rourke held the company with his talk, while I quietly assured myself that my portmanteau was safe, though I chafed sadly at the precious time we were wasting. At length I put ceremony aside and insisted we must be off; whereupon we drank a single glass from our store to Prince Charles's health and better fortunes, and I rose from the table and went to the corner where I had left my portmanteau, and my heart almost leaped into my mouth when I saw it was gone; but at the same time, old Colin said, behind me, "Never fear, McDonell! You'll lose nothing here; I have fastened your things on the pony myself."
So out we went into the starlight, and there found the pony loaded with our belongings, and with short farewells set off with Mr. Gordon and our guides on our night march.

We could not speak of our feelings before Mr. Gordon, but I knew Father O'Rourke had enjoyed our entertainment as little as myself; so all night long we tramped, gathering such news as we might from our companions of the battle, which was vague but disheartening enough. At daybreak we arrived at a very considerable house—indeed, a gentleman's seat—which Mr. Gordon informed us was that of McKenzie of Dundonald, to whom we were recommended by old Colin Dearg, who was his uncle. Dundonald was at Inverness, whither he had gone that he might not be suspected of favoring the Prince's cause, but his lady was at home.
We led our pony into the court-yard, and there unloaded him, where Mr. Gordon declared he could accompany us no farther, his shoes being worn out.
"Very well," said I, "after we have a nap I will provide you with a second pair I have in my portmanteau."
But no; he would have them now, so he might try them on, and, accordingly, to humour him, I undid the upper straps of my portmanteau. Scarcely had I done so than I saw the leather had been slit.
My cry of dismay brought Father O'Rourke and Mr. Gordon over me at once, and with shaking hands I undid the straps and threw it open. The larger canvas-bag, which held the thousand guineas, was gone!
"O God in Heaven," I groaned, sinking on the ground, "that there are such damned scoundrels in this world!" And for the first time since a child I could not restrain myself, and burst into tears.
Father O'Rourke turned over the things, but I knew it was useless, and then said, in the strangest, dryest kind of voice:
"Well, I call on you to witness this happened in Scotland, and in the Highlands."
"Stop, sir," I cried; "this is intolerable! None of your insulting reflections on countries. There are more rogues hanged in Ireland than ever existed in Scotland."
"Yes, we find the quickest end to put them to is a rope's end."
"Look you here, sir, you have done nothing but insult me from the day you met me, and had you any right to the sword you carry, I would read you a lesson that would last you to the end of your life!"
"Thankful am I," he returned, as cool as ever, "that I never was under such a school-master. But let us spare our iron for those scoundrels, and especially for that smooth-tongued, red-headed, black-hearted Colin Dearg. If I could only have my left hand comfortable on his dirty throttle. I wouldn't need the other to feel his pulse with. Cheer up, Giovannini! If we've any luck we'll have it safely back, and you'll hand it to the Prince yet. Courage, my lad! Surely old campaigners like you and me are not to be outfaced by a lot of sneaking blackguards like these!"
"I'll lay my soul," I said, slowly, having forgotten all my rage—and I believe now Father O'Rourke only provoked me to distract my attention from my trouble—"I'll lay my soul that scoundrel Creach is at the bottom of this!"
"Like enough," he answered, for he had been back, though that smooth tongued fox denied it. "And what's more, Giovannini, I'd be curious to know if the Prince ever received the money he carried. I doubt it."
"So do I; but let us get back. First, though, I must put the rest of our money in safety. I must see Lady Dundonald."
"Faith, I don't suppose her ladyship is thinking of stirring for hours yet."
"Never mind, she must stir this time, for I cannot stand on ceremony."

So I sent a message to her chamber, with Captain McDonell's compliments—my rank as Lieutenant commanding my late Company entitled me to claim the title—and saying that he must instantly have speech with her.
She very civilly returned that I might use the freedom I asked; upon which I went to her bedroom, where I found her maid in attendance.
"Madam, only the distressing circumstances in which I am placed will excuse my intrusion, for which I offer my apologies." Thereupon I told the circumstances of the robbery. "I return at once with my comrade, Captain Lynch, and, please God, will recover the money; but I am quite aware, if circumstances so fall out, these rascals will not hesitate to add murder to robbery. Therefore, madam, I place these five hundred guineas in your honourable keeping. If I am killed, I bequeath them to you to be handed on to One you know of"—not caring to be more particular, for in such times "least said is soonest mended"—"if not, I will return to claim them. The only satisfaction I have is that we discovered the theft on arriving at your house, for I must certainly have blamed your people and not those passing under the denomination of officers and gentlemen. Madam, may God be with you, and I wish you a good-morning."
So I bowed myself out of the room, handing the gold to the maid.

I found our guides refused to return, and evidently Mr. Gordon had no stomach for the business, though he was clearly innocent. However, we offered so high a figure that at length one volunteered, and, wearied though we were, we set out.
We wasted neither time nor words by the way, until we came in sight of Laggy, when we called a council of war.
"My advice is to send the man in, call out the officers—particularly Colin Dearg, whom I would shoot on sight—and then make inquiries," said Father O'Rourke.
"You're learning the ways of the country quickly," I said, with some raillery. "No; we'll tax Colin Dearg with the theft, and pretend we do not suspect the others in the least, and so can urge them to use their influence with him to return the money. Much may be done by an appeal to their honour, if they think we don't suspect them."
"Then they've the finest sense of honour for a lot of truculent cowards I ever met with," he answered.
"Now there you are mistaken, Father O'Rourke; a Highlander may be truculent, but he is not of necessity a coward, and it is rarely that his sense of honour entirely deserts him."
"Not even when he is a thief?"
"No, not even then—if you know how to take him. And besides this, remember, if my people are still in arms, we will have that money wherever they have stored it, and a vengeance on every McKenzie in the country. As it is, no one knows of my return as yet, and if we are killed these scoundrels have only to produce the letters which they will find on me from the Duke of York, and not only escape all punishment, but probably claim a reward as well."
"Well, well, I agree. You know the breed better than I," he said; and so we came out in front of the house and sent our man in with word to Colin Dearg and the officers that we would speak with them.

With a little delay they appeared, and after them trooped out about thirty men, all armed.
"The top of the morning to you, gentlemen! What service can I and my poor house render you?" sneered that old scoundrel, Colin Dearg.
We saluted the officers, but took no notice of him or his words, and I addressed myself to them.
"Gentlemen, I have been robbed of one thousand guineas as we supped with you in this house. Were it a trifle of money of my own, I would rather lose it than bring any honourable man under so vile an imputation, but I was entrusted with the money for Prince Charles, God bless him! and I know I can rely on your aid in its recovery."
 
"'FINE WORDS! BRAVE WORDS!' HE SNEERED"
There was not a move, and I looked at each face in vain for some response, but they only glowered at me as if I had never spoken. Then throwing all pretence aside, I went on:
"Do I need to urge that with this money men can be kept together, who will otherwise scatter, if not for safety, at least to provide for families helpless and alone? That this money will keep them at their posts? That each guinea of it may mean a drop of the Prince's blood? And that the man who has robbed me of it to-day may be as guilty of murder before his God as if he had pistolled the Prince with his very hand? Gentlemen! Gentlemen! I would not plead for myself! I plead for One who has the highest claims over us all that one man can have over another. I ask your help in the name of God's anointed King, and in the name of the Prince, his son!" And there I stopped, for I had no other words in my heart.
Old Colin Dearg immediately broke into loud lamentations: his house was disgraced forever; he would never lift up his head again; never had such a thing happened to a McKenzie; and it was a black day that ever brought such a tale to his old ears, and so on. He would search the house till not a stone remained standing; he would strip his people of their skin, if need be, rather than such an imputation should lie against his honour, and that of his name; and forthwith disappeared among his people, pretending to search and question them.
We allowed this empty work to go on, until he saw fit to return with word that the money could not be found.
"No, it cannot be found, you lying, red-headed, old scoundrel," said I, "because you think yourself safe now! But you keep it at your peril! for a day will come when you will wish your thieving fingers were burned to the bone before they touched the Prince's gold, you double-dyed traitor!"
"Fine words! Brave words!" he sneered, planting himself well in front of his following, with arms a-kimbo. "A likely story that the likes of you, two broken men, skulking over here from France with baggages loaded with stones, trying your foreign thieves' tricks with quiet gentlemen, should have a thousand guineas! I don't believe a word of it!" And thereon he turned off into the house with a good show of carelessness, no doubt thinking it unwise to trust our patience any further.
"Now, gentlemen," said Big William Killcoy, "the country is unsafe, and you are far from home, but your road is open before you!"
"The game is up," I said to Father O'Rourke, in Italian, "we had better beat a retreat," which we did with sore hearts but in good order; and they said not a word further, nor did they attempt to molest us as we once more plodded the bitter miles that lay between us and Dundonald.