not de trop,” I simpered.
The lieutenant bowed to me with evident relief.
“On the contrary, sir, if you are the gentleman travelling with this lady you are the desired complement to our party. There has been some doubt expressed as to you. This man here claims to have recognized you as one of the Pretender’s army; says he was present when you bought provisions for a troop of horsemen during the rebel invasion of this town.”
“’Slife, perhaps I’m Charles Stuart himself,” I shrugged.
“I swear to him. I swear to him,” screamed fustian.
On my soul merely to look at the man gave me a nausea. His white malevolence fair scunnered me.
I adjusted Volney’s eye-glass with care and looked the fellow over with a candid interest, much as your scientist examines a new specimen.
“What the plague! Is this rusty old last year’s pippin an evidence against me? Rot me, he’s a pretty scrub on which to father a charge against a gentleman, Lud, his face is a lie. No less!”
“May I ask your name, sir, and your business in this part of the country?” said the lieutenant.
Some impulse—perhaps the fact that I was wearing his clothes—put it into my head to borrow Volney’s name. There was risk that the lad might have met the baronet, but that was a contingency which must be ventured. It brought him to like a shot across a lugger’s bows.
“Sir Robert Volney, the friend of the Prince,” he said, patently astonished.
“The Prince has that honour,” I smiled.
“Pray pardon my insistence. Orders from headquarters,” says he apologetically.
I waved aside his excuses peevishly.
“Sink me, Sir Robert Volney should be well enough known not to be badgered by every country booby with a king’s commission. Lard, I vow I’ll have a change when Fritz wears the crown.”
With that I turned on my heel in a simulation of petty anger, offered my arm to Aileen, and marched up the stairs with her. My manner and my speech were full of flowered compliments to her, of insolence to the young gentleman below, for there is nothing more galling to a man’s pride than to be ignored.
“’Twas the only way,” I said to Aileen when the door was closed on us above. “’Tis a shame to flout an honest young gentleman so, but in such fashion the macaroni would play the part. Had I stayed to talk with him he might have asked for my proof. We’re well out of the affair.”
But we were not out of it yet. I make no doubt that no sooner was my back turned than the little rat in fustian, his mind set on a possible reward, was plucking at the lad’s sleeve with suggestions and doubts. In any case there came presently a knock at the door. I opened. The boy officer was there with a red face obstinately set.
“Sir, I must trouble you again,” he said icily. “You say you are Sir Robert Volney. I must ask you for proofs.”
At once I knew that I had overdone my part. It had been better to have dealt with this youth courteously; but since I had chosen my part, I must play it.
“Proofs,” I cried blackly. “Do you think I carry proofs of my identity for every country bumpkin to read? Sink me, ’tis an outrage.”
He flushed, but hung doggedly to his point.
“You gain nothing by insulting me, Sir Robert. I may be only a poor line officer and you one high in power, but by Heaven! I’m as good a man as you,” cried the boy; then rapped out, “I’ll see your papers, if you have me broke for it.”
My papers! An inspiration shot into my brain. When Volney had substituted for me at Portree he had given me a pass through the lines, made out in his name and signed by the Duke of Cumberland, in order that I might present it if challenged. Hitherto I had not been challenged, and indeed I had forgotten the existence of it, but now— I fished out the sheet of parchment and handed it to the officer. His eye ran over the passport, and he handed it back with a flushed face.
“I have to offer a thousand apologies for troubling you, Sir Robert. This paper establishes your identity beyond doubt.”
“Hope you’re quite satisfied,” I said with vast irony.
“Oh, just one more question. The lady travelling with you?”
I watched him silently.
“She is from the Highlands, is she not?” he asked.
“Is she?”
“To be sure ’tis sufficient if Sir Robert Volney vouches for her.”
“Is it?”
“And of course the fact that she travels in his company——”
My answer was a yawn, half stifled behind my hand. The lad glared at me, in a rage at me for my insolence and at himself for his boyish inability to cope with it. Then he swung on his heel and stamped down-stairs. Five years later I met him at a dinner given by a neighbour of mine in the country, and I took occasion then to explain to him my intolerable conduct. Many a laugh we have since had over it.
We reached London on a dismal Wednesday when the rain was pouring down in sheets. Aileen I took at once to our town house that she might be with Cloe, though I expected to put up with my old nurse in another part of the city. I leave you to conceive the surprise of Charles and my sister when we dropped in on them.
The news they had for us was of the worst. Every week witnessed the execution of some poor Jacobites and the arrival of a fresh batch to take their place in the prisons. The Scotch Lords Balmerino, Cromartie and Kilmarnock were already on trial and their condemnation was a foregone conclusion. The thirst for blood was appalling and not at all glutted by the numerous executions that had already occurred. ’Twas indeed for me a most dismal home-coming.
Chapter XV
A Reprieve!
“My Lord of March, is Arthur Lord Balmerino guilty of High Treason?”
Lord March, youngest peer of the realm, profligate and scoundrel, laid his hand on the place where his heart ought to have been and passed judgment unctuously.
“Guilty, upon my honour.”
The Lord High Steward repeated the same question to each of the peers in order of their age and received from each the same answer. As it became plain that the prisoner at the bar was to be convicted the gentleman-gaoler gradually turned the edge of his axe toward Balmerino, whose manner was nonchalant and scornful. When the vote had been polled my Lord bowed to the judges with dignity and remarked, “I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time without avail, my lords. If I pleaded ‘not guilty’ my principal reason was that the ladies might not miss their show.” Shortly afterward he was ushered out of Westminster Hall to his carriage.
From the view-point
