"I could stand shoulder to shoulder with him and curse the whigs at all events. I could cry with him 'God save King James' in the teeth of the sidier roy." Volney clapped his hands softly. "Hear, hear!" he cried with flaming eyes. "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Jacobite." The Gael turned to him impetuously, his blue eyes (as I conceive) moist with emotion. "Man, could I persuade you to be saving the lad? It was for this that I waited in your rooms to see you. They say that you are a favourite of princes, that what you ask you get. Do for once a fine thing and ask this boy's life." "They exaggerate my power. But for argument's sake suppose it true. Why should I ask it? What have I to gain by it?" Volney, his eyes fixed on the fire, asked the question as much to himself as to the Highlander. The manner of his tone suggested that it was not a new one to him. "Gain! Who spoke of gain? Are you a Jew peddler or an English gentleman?" cried Donald. "They call me dissolute, gambler, profligate. These be hard names, but I have earned them all. I make no apologies and offer no excuses. As I have lived my life, so have I lived it. For buttered phrases I have no taste. Call me libertine, or call me man of fashion; 'tis all one. My evil nature--_C'est plus fort que moi_. At least I have not played the hypocrite. No canting sighs! No lapses to morality and prayers! No vices smugly hidden! The plain straight road to hell taken at a gallop!" So, with chin in hand and dark eyes lit by the flickering flame, this roué and sentimentalist philosophized. "And Montagu?" cried the Gael, harking back to his prosaic text. "Has made his bed and he must lie in it." "By Heaven, who ruined him and made an outlaw of him? Who drove him to rebellion?" "You imply that I strewed his bed with nettles. Perhaps. 'Tis well my shoulders are broad, else they could not bear all that is laid upon them." "You would never be letting a petty private grudge influence you?" Volney turned, stung to the quick. "You go too far, Captain Macdonald. Have I given bonds to save this fool from the consequences of his folly? I cherish no hatred toward him, but I play no Jonathan to his David. Egad, it were a pretty rôle for me to essay! You would cast me for a part full of heroics, the moving of heaven and earth to save my dearest enemy. Thank you, I am not for it. Neither for nor against him will I lift a hand. There is no malice in my heart toward this poor condemned young gentleman. If he can win free I shall be glad, even though his gain is my loss, but further than that I will not go. He came between me and the thing I most desired on earth. Shall I help him to the happiness which will condemn me to misery?" For an instant the habitual veil of mockery was snatched aside and the tortured soul of the man leaped from his burning eyes. "You saved him at Portree," was all that Donald could say. "I paid a debt to him and to Cumberland. The ledger is now balanced."