Chapter XIII: Miss Macpherson Comes to Fort Augustus

Dawn found Rob watching at the window. Into the night his eyes had stared until the cold wind before the grey light of day fell upon his face. Vast forms moved dimly into sight. Hills stood up gradually against the ashen sky. Trees formed in vague, black columns, with their trunks half hidden in mist.

Suddenly a faint, pink glow flushed the pearly grey with colour, and in an instant the valley grew distinct. The sun rose and sent the dew glistening like a thousand twinkling diamonds, then, passing higher, flooded the Fort with yellow light, and threw the black shadow of the gallows-tree upon the ground.

With a sigh, Rob turned and seated himself upon his bed, waiting for the end.

But hours passed and no one came. He heard the sharp words of command from the drilling-square below, and the grounding of arms as the soldiers stood at attention. Outside, a man whistled cheerfully, and that reminded him of Muckle John. Surely he would not desert him! Did he not pride himself on always finding a way? Rob remembered, with a wry smile, that the only way he had found two days before had been for himself. He took to wondering what Cameron would say when he heard (if he should ever hear, which was not so likely) how ill his joke had treated his messenger. He took a doleful satisfaction in imagining him greatly disturbed at having sent him to his death.

At that moment footsteps sounded along the corridor, and the key of the door was turned.

Into the room stepped Captain Strange.

"Poor Rob," he said with a grin, "you're like a ghost. No used your bed? Come, come, I thought better of you than that. Not afraid, are you, Rob?"

"If I were afraid I would do what you want, but you will never have that satisfaction."

"Never is a strong word, Rob. I would not use that word to the Duke, boy..."

"He can hang me, but it will be without a fair trial."

Strange leaned his arm upon the window ledge.

"Wrong again; there will be a fair trial, Rob," he said without turning his head, "and that this very day. It is more than many another has had--and that's the truth."

"What can you prove against me?"

"I have a witness, Rob, who will tell us all about you. What do you say to that?"

"That you lie."

Strange switched about, and his face hardened.

"Come then," he cried angrily, and led the way from the room.

With a sudden foreboding of danger Rob rose, and the door clanged behind him. If, in a single night, they had found a witness his doom was complete. And yet, what witness could they have discovered?

Down to the great place where they had gone the preceding night Strange took him. Outside the door stood two soldiers with muskets. Passing between them, the heavy door shut silently behind. Facing Rob sat the Duke of Cumberland, alone.

Hastily he looked round the room. No other person, witness or otherwise, was to be seen.

"Prisoner," rasped out the Duke, "are you villing to give us informations regarding certain rebels?"

"I am not," said Rob.

"Zen vot prevents us from hanging you?"

"On what charge?"

"As a rebel."

"You know nothing against me," said Rob, gaining courage.

"But we 'ave a vitness who does," said the Duke.

Then rising, he opened a little door that lay behind his chair, and stood to one side to let some one pass into the room.

And very slowly, her head in the air, came Miss Macpherson. Rob felt his heart give a great thump, and then he grew cold as ice, for he knew, whether she wished to harm him or no, that his aunt was bound to recognize him.

Strange advanced to meet her.

"Mistress Macpherson," he said, "you remember me?"

"Aye," she replied drily, "I know ye fine, though we met last in more reputable circumstances."

"Alas!" he smiled, "duty is a hard master."

The Duke burst in at that.

"Madam," he cried, "ees zis boy known to you or nod?"

"Your Highness," she replied, looking Rob squarely in the eyes, "this is my wretched nephew."

With a bitter look of mortification and fury, Rob turned his back on them.

"Vas 'e in arms against ze throne?" asked the Duke.

"He was all that," she replied grimly, and Strange rubbed his hands with joy. This was beyond all expectation.

"But, madam," went on the Duke, "you know vot zis means." He was evidently puzzled by her equanimity.

"Thrawn necks are too common at present to be overlooked," she replied drily.

He nodded, understanding her dimly.

"Zen dere is noding more to be said," he remarked, and said something in Strange's ear, who touching Rob upon the shoulder led him away to his cell, where he was left to his own dismal thoughts.

Returning, Strange begged Miss Macpherson to be seated, and again whispered into the Duke's ear, who nodded from time to time, and smiled sleepily.

"As you vill, Strange," he said, and rising, withdrew.

"Now, Miss Macpherson," began Strange when they were alone, "I knew I could rely upon you to put even the claims of relationship aside, when it was a question of loyalty."

"Go on, my man," said she impatiently; "I'm no here to listen to patriotic sentiments."

"Exactly. Now this is how the matter stands. Rob is convicted as a rebel, and there's only one solution to that. We agreed from the start that he was fated for a quick finish. But he's young, Miss Macpherson, and your own blood."

"No blood of mine," she said sharply. "What my poor sister did is no affair of mine."

"At any rate, it would not look well for you to have led to the lad's death."

Miss Macpherson's lips tightened, but she said nothing.

"And there are ways and means. All this fuss over a boy is not according to reason, much less the Duke's usual procedure. But Rob knows some things that his Highness is ready to hear in exchange for his life. More than that, he will deal generously with him."

"What things?" asked Miss Macpherson, shortly.

"Where Lovat hides, for instance. And, mark you, it will make no difference in the end. In a fortnight's time we shall drive the upper end of Loch Arkaig, where we hear he is concealed. But we are not sure, and a word from Rob would help us. That is hardly treachery, Miss Macpherson, is it?"

"I never had a legal head," she replied, with an utterly expressionless countenance.

Strange rose, and walked twice up and down the room.

"Persuade Rob to act reasonably," he went on, "and you will have his ultimate gratitude, and, what is more, that of the Duke as well. Will you help us?"

"I'll see Rob," she replied.

"Thank you..."

"But only on two conditions."

"Yes?"

"That I see him alone, and that he has a fair week to think it over."

Strange hesitated.

"Your first condition is, of course, simple," he replied, "but the second is more difficult." And he hurried from the room.

In a minute or two he returned,

"The Duke agrees," he said; "and now, please, follow me."

They passed through the corridor up the stairs. Then, opening the door of Rob's cell, Strange bowed her in, and, closing it, turned the key. Rob was lying face downwards upon the bed; he never lifted his head as she entered, and so she paused and listened at the keyhole until the footsteps had died away.

Then, "Rob," she called, and fell upon her knees by the bedside.

He raised his face and looked at her with sullen anger.

"What do you want with me?" he asked.

But for answer she placed her finger on her lips, and drew a file and pistol from her pocket.

"Hide them," she whispered. When he had done so, in a dream, and turned his head, a coil of rope was lying on the ground, and his aunt was rebuttoning her coat.

"Tak' it, Rob," she said. "Wake up, lad."

Suddenly hope sprang to his eyes. With a leap he was off the bed, and the rope was below the hay upon which he lay.

"Oh, aunt," he said, "I did not understand."

"Tuts," she replied. "Now, hark ye, Rob, for there's muckle to grasp. Yon Muckle John came to me last night, and sent me here with the things ye have. He also sent this letter," and she fumbled for a moment in her pocket, and handed over a slip of paper to him.

"Read it by-and-by," she said, "but first listen here. They will no hang ye for a week--that's sure as death, and it's yon old Lovat that they are after. They will search upper Loch Arkaig in a fortnight, but they would do it sooner were they to ken just what you know. Belike, Rob, if ye told them ye would win free, and in the meantime the word could reach Lovat to seek another place."

"No," said Rob, "that I could not do. Suppose he were too ill to escape, or the message strayed?"

"Then, Rob, there is Muckle John, and he has a way, he says, though I canna believe in it mysel'. But the letter from him will show you."

Rob drew the paper out, and read it in silence. It ran:

"DEAR ROB,--When ye hear a whustle such as ye ken, do as I say. File through the bars of your window and your chains should you have any and lower yoursel down into the outer yard where a cart with hay will be lying. When dawn breaks the cart will move out but it will not be searched for reasons that I will not say. Should ye have anything to entrust to me in case of accident give it to Mistress Macpherson, who is our good friend."--M.J.

It was the last sentence that sent the blood into Rob's cheeks.

"Do you know why Muckle John is so anxious regarding my safety?" he asked his aunt.

"No," she replied with a troubled frown, "though I asked him."

"Did he reply?"

"Not he, but he was sair put about."

Rob went over to the window, and laid his head upon his arm. A deep despondency had suddenly fallen upon him. That Muckle John was only interested in the suppositious plan of the treasure seemed only too apparent. It was to obtain this that he schemed and planned. His own safety and life were trifles in comparison. Enemies within and enemies without, and all fashed about a plan that did not exist.

A sudden determination came to him.

Taking a pencil from his pocket, he took up Muckle John's letter, tore off the part which contained the reference to the treasure and wrote upon the back:

"This to tell you that what you seek has fallen into the hands of the Duke."

Then folding it up, he handed it to his aunt.

"Give that to Muckle John," he said.

Miss Macpherson scrutinized his face closely.

"Rob," she asked, "ye will do what the letter tells ye? This is no enviable position for any Highland woman, Rob, and I took for granted that no false pride would prevent you from making good your escape."

"I have not refused," he replied.

A look of relief sprang into her face.

"Then good-bye," she said with unusual warmth.

For a moment they stood hand in hand, and then she knocked upon the locked door, and waited for Strange to come.

When it fell back, she passed from sight without a backward glance.

For long Rob paced up and down the room.

But of a sudden he stopped, and, uttering a sharp cry, rushed half-way to the door. For long he shouted, banging with his fists upon the wood. It was too late.

That Lovat would be discovered had suddenly forced itself upon him, and that he would be regarded as his betrayer would naturally follow. For now, through his own foolish pride, he had thrown away the only chance of saving the old man, by rejecting the help of Muckle John.