“Truly, my lord,” replied the man, “I should have hoped that was unnecessary, seeing it is not so long since I took on in your service, under promise of a commission as Major, with half a dollar of daily pay and half a dollar of arrears; and I am to trust your lordship has nut forgotten my pay as well as my person?” “My good friend, Major Dalgetty,” said Montrose, who by this time perfectly recollected his man, “you must consider what important things have happened to put my friends’ faces out of my memory, besides this imperfect light; but all conditions shall be kept.--And what news from Argyleshire, my good Major? We have long given you up for lost, and I was now preparing to take the most signal vengeance upon the old fox who infringed the law of arms in your person.” “Truly, my noble lord,” said Dalgetty, “I have no desire that my return should put any stop to so proper and becoming an intention; verily it is in no shape in the Earl of Argyle’s favour or mercy that I now stand before you, and I shall be no intercessor for him. But my escape is, under Heaven, and the excellent dexterity which, as an old and accomplished cavalier, I displayed in effecting the same,--I say, under these, it is owing to the assistance of this old Highlander, whom I venture to recommend to your lordship’s special favour, as the instrument of saving your lordship’s to command, Dugald Dalgetty of Drumthwacket.” “A thankworthy service,” said the Marquis, gravely, “which shall certainly be requited in the manner it deserves.” “Kneel down, Ranald,” said Major Dalgetty (as we must now call him), “kneel down, and kiss his Excellency’s hand.” The prescribed form of acknowledgment not being according to the custom of Ranald’s country, he contented himself with folding his arms on his bosom, and making a low inclination of his head. “This poor man, my lord,” said Major Dalgetty, continuing his speech with a dignified air of protection towards Ranald M’Eagh, “has strained all his slender means to defend my person from mine enemies, although having no better weapons of a missile sort than bows and arrows, whilk your lordship will hardly believe.” “You will see a great many such weapons in my camp,” said Montrose, “and we find them serviceable.” [In fact, for the admirers of archery it may be stated, not only that many of the Highlanders in Montrose’s army used these antique missiles, but even in England the bow and quiver, once the glory of the bold yeomen of that land, were occasionally used during the great civil wars.]