A STRANGE MEETING.
Marching with all speed by paths that were wild and rugged, the old
Fingalian war-paths, or tracks by which the cattle were driven, on
the 9th of June the troops of General Wightman came within ten miles
of the camp of Seaforth, when a halt was ordered just as the sun was
setting amid that solemn scenery, where a deep and secluded arm of
the sea penetrates among the hills of Glensheil.
"Major Huske," said General Wightman, as the wearied troops piled
their arms, posted sentinels, and prepared to cook some venison which
had been shot for them by the Munroes of Culcairn, "with an officer
and a hundred men of Montague's as an advanced guard, or rather as an
outlying picket, you will march one mile further on, and see them
properly posted. Reconnoitre well before you halt, and if aught can
be seen of the enemy send back a messenger to me."
"For further instructions?"
"Yes. Look well about you; for the notorious and desperate outlaw,
Robert MacGregor, or Campbell, who has been in arms against the
Government ever since the Revolution, is among these rebels, and may
give us more trouble with twelve men than Lord Seaforth could with so
many hundreds."
"Rob Roy!" exclaimed Huske, starting.
"Egad, yes; Rob himself," said the general, dismounting. "You seem
surprised, major. Did he give you so great a fright when he beat up
your quarters at Inversnaid?"
"Do not mistake me, General Wightman," replied Huske, with an air of
severity. "It was but the start of an almost savage joy which I
experienced, on hearing that I was to have again opposed to me the
man to whom I owe the infliction of a terrible grief--the loss of my
son Harry, my poor little motherless boy!"
"Oh, your son--yes," said the general, in an altered voice; "I heard
that he perished unhappily--in the daring night attack on Inversnaid."
"Yes; and I would rather that he had perished when his mother did at
Landau, than in the hands of those half-naked Highland savages."
"Landau! Zounds, major, I remember that unfortunate affair too, for
my tent was near yours, on the left of the lines. You remember our
brigade was posted near the river Zurich?"
"But if I am spared to meet these MacGregors again I may teach this
Rob Roy to feel something of the torture I now feel; for two of his
sons, I have been told, are among his followers, and if one of them
fall into my hands again----"
"Well, do as you please, major, with Rob Roy and his sons; but beware
of ambuscades like that into which he lured Clifford and poor
Dorrington, at Aberfoyle. And now move to the front, if you please.
Keep the picket under arms, and throw out a line of double sentinels
towards the pass in the mountains."
In obedience to this order Major Huske marched a hundred men of
Montague's Regiment to the distance of one mile from the main body,
and halting them among some wild whins for concealment, with orders
to remain accoutred, threw forward a chain of sentinels, whom he
posted in person, in such places as he thought they could best
observe the approach of the enemy, and communicate with each other,
or with the picket in their rear.
After this, as the night was clear and beautiful, he walked a little
way beyond them, to reconnoitre and observe the country.
The scenery was wild in the extreme. On one side of a narrow inlet
rose a tall cliff, where the black iolar built his nest; at its base
lay the still water of the sea, where, in moonshine and sunshine
alike, the round black heads of the sea-dogs (whom the Celts supposed
to be fairies) were visible, as they swam to and fro, fixing their
dark and melancholy eyes on the twinkling stars or the passing boats.
On the other side of the inlet rose an ancient barrow or burial
mound, from which, as the peasantry averred, strange gleams of lustre
came at night, with sweet melodious sounds.
The place was said to be enchanted, for any person who sat thereon
and spoke aloud heard whatever they said repeated thrice. Then it
was the fairies or the devil who replied; now it is only the
echo--the son of the lonely rock.
Huske was now nearly half a mile from his sentinels; but in the clear
summer twilight he could see their figures distinctly, with their
dark grey coats and white leggings; and then he thought of returning,
when an armed Highlander, who had been crouching among the heather,
rose up suddenly as an apparition, to bar his way.
His round shield was braced upon his left arm, and his drawn claymore
was glittering in his right hand.
Major Huske laid his hand on his sword, and stepping forward a pace
or two resolutely, found himself face to face with--ROB ROY!