THE CAPTURE OF LORD LOVAT
As weeks passed on and still the searchers did not come Lord Lovat's
hopes rose, and schemes no doubt began to run through his mind for a
continuance of the struggle or a reconciliation with the Government.
It may have occurred to him to send a diplomatic message to the Duke
of Cumberland at Fort Augustus, but there is no evidence to show
whether he took any definite steps until it was too late.
For long after the fateful visit of Murray of Broughton he had been
prepared for immediate flight, but as time passed and nothing
occurred to alarm him he took to sitting in the sun or playing a hand
of cards, or brooding inside the cottage upon the transience of all
human greatness.
There were with him about a score of Frasers, all armed with musket
and sword, and Bishop Hugh Macdonald, who did not desert the old man
in his hour of need.
It was on the first of June that the sloop _Furnace and Terror_
conveying a detachment of soldiers from the garrison of Fort William,
came sailing down the coast of Knoidart and Arisaig. There they
landed soldiers who began to march inland, making for Loch Morar.
It was on the north side of the loch that they espied a man making
his way along the seashore--a very tall man who limped as he ran,
being surprised in an open patch of country. Giving pursuit they
spread out along the hill to cut him off, but when the man on the
shore saw them he went away at a great pace, and had it not been that
the loch curves outwards so as to make escape the more difficult, he
might have gained the head of it, and won free. To avoid falling
into their hands, however, he took to the loch and set out swimming
for an island in the middle of it, making good headway before even
they could get within shooting range.
And then, while they hunted for a boat, he scrambled upon the wooded
shore and disappeared.
Lord Lovat was sitting before his cottage as the swimmer waded
ashore. He looked up having dozed in the sunlight and fallen asleep.
Facing him, with water dripping from his clothes, was Muckle John.
For a moment he blinked, and then perceiving that the soldiers on the
mainland were pushing a boat on to the loch he shrugged his shoulders.
"I was awaiting you," he remarked quietly, "but I did not look for
red-coats! Even Murray, your last messenger, came alone."
Muckle John shook the water from his coat.
"Had I known you were here," he said, "I would rather have been
taken."
Lovat was greatly puzzled, so puzzled he could only gape at him.
"Come," went on Muckle John, "there is not a moment to be lost. Get
you into a boat, and away with you. Leave a dozen of your men here,
we can hold them back awhile. But when you reach the mainland
consider yourself no longer safe from me."
Lovat grinned at that.
"How you fight who's to have my poor body," he replied. "What if I
stay quietly here? If it must be one or other, better Fort William,
where I shall at least be protected from you."
"My lord," returned Muckle John, "you estimate Fort William over
highly. But let that pass--come, sir, if you will not move I'll put
you in a boat by force. They are half-way across. Will you rise or
no?"
Very slowly Lovat got upon his legs.
"I'll go," he said simply, and crossing to the other side of the
island permitted himself to be helped into a boat, and rowed to the
Arisaig side.
For the next hour there raged a battle royal between the red-coats
and the Frasers under Muckle John. Again and again they tried to
take the island by storm but the fierce fire of the defending force
drove them back to firing over the sides of their boats, and in the
confusion no thought was given to the rear of the island and the
flight of Simon, Lord Lovat.
At last in a brief respite Muckle John ordered the Frasers to the
boats and pushing off they rowed with all haste out of range of the
island upon which the English landed in due course.
On reaching the mainland Muckle John said farewell to the Frasers and
limping into the shadows of the trees went his way. But late that
night in a cave upon the side of Glen Morar he took the third piece
of Fraser tartan from his sporran and threw it into the fire.
"It is a reckoning," he said in his heart, "that is more fitted for
English hands than mine."
Near Meoble on the seventh day of June the soldiers came upon Lord
Lovat hiding in a hollow tree. He had dismissed his followers in
order to lead his pursuers off the trail. Quite alone, sitting upon
his strong box, he surrendered his sword with his customary dignity
and permitted himself to be taken on board the sloop _Furnace_.
As he was assisted up the side he encountered Captain Strange looking
over the bulwark. Well he knew Strange's reputation as a spy and
secret agent.
"I am sorry to see your lordship in this plight," said Strange with
an undercurrent of malice in his voice.
Behind Lovat they brought his strong box, and when he saw it there he
pursed his lips, but said nothing.
"The men report they were on the trail of Muckle John a day or two
since," resumed Strange meaningly, "anything your lordship can tell
us will not be forgotten. He is a dangerous man."
"My memory," replied Lovat slowly, "is so short that I cannot
recollect. Was it Muckle John? He seemed a small fair man to me,
but my eyes ye ken are no what they were."
"I understand," said Strange grimly, and led the way down to the
cabin.
There Captain Duff and Captain Ferguson were awaiting them. And on
the table lay the strong box over which Lovat had pored so many hours
on the night of Culloden at Gortuleg.
Lovat was allowed to seat himself, and having done so appeared
oblivious to the proceedings, and seemed to doze. In the box were
many articles of personal value to him and these the searchers passed
over. But near to the bottom of the box was a bundle of papers, and
these they grabbed at and began to read.
At that point Lovat stirred and looking up remarked: "You will find
nothing treasonable there..." watching them with a half smile on his
lips.
But of a sudden he paled and leant forward.
In the hand of Captain Strange was a letter, in the Master of Lovat's
writing. In some manner that fatal communication had been overlooked.
"Will you let me look at that letter?" asked the old man smoothly.
Strange hesitated and saw the tension in his eyes.
"I fear," he replied, "this must remain in the hands of the
Government."
Lovat sank into his chair and shook his great white head in a
melancholy way.
"I am too old," he said hardly above his breath.
"My lord," said Strange, "this letter is incriminating in the highest
degree. Have you recollected yet whether it was Muckle John you met
upon the island on Loch Morar?"
Lovat put one fat hand to his ear.
"I cannot catch what you say," he remarked blandly.
Strange repeated his question.
"I am sorry," said Lovat, "but at my age deafness is very prevalent."
And so in due course they took him to Fort William, carrying him in a
litter, finding him very querulous over the bumpy places, and apt to
gibe at them in Latin to his own cynical pleasure and their vague
annoyance.