Historical fiction; Montrose, James Graham, Marquis of, 1612-1650 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction
“But I have a neck though,” said Dalgetty, bluntly; “and what if he
chooses to avenge himself upon that? I have known a case where an
honourable ambassador has been hanged as a spy before now. Neither did
the Romans use ambassadors much more mercifully at the siege of Capua,
although I read that they only cut off their hands and noses, put out
their eyes, and suffered them to depart in peace.”
“By my honour Captain Dalgetty,” said Montrose, “should the Marquis,
contrary to the rules of war, dare to practise any atrocity against you,
you may depend upon my taking such signal vengeance that all Scotland
shall ring of it.”
“That will do but little for Dalgetty,” returned the Captain; “but
corragio! as the Spaniard says. With the Land of Promise full in
view, the Moor of Drumthwacket, MEA PAUPERA REGNA, as we said at
Mareschal-College, I will not refuse your Excellency’s commission,
being conscious it becomes a cavalier of honour to obey his commander’s
orders, in defiance both of gibbet and sword.”
“Gallantly resolved,” said Montrose; “and if you will come apart with
me, I will furnish you with the conditions to be laid before M’Callum
More, upon which we are willing to grant him a truce for his Highland
dominions.”
With these we need not trouble our readers. They were of an evasive
nature, calculated to meet a proposal which Montrose considered to have
been made only for the purpose of gaining time. When he had put Captain
Dalgetty in complete possession of his instructions, and when that
worthy, making his military obeisance, was near the door of his
apartment, Montrose made him a sign to return.
“I presume,” said he, “I need not remind an officer who has served under
the great Gustavus, that a little more is required of a person sent with
a flag of truce than mere discharge of his instructions, and that his
general will expect from him, on his return, some account of the state
of the enemy’s affairs, as far as they come under his observation. In
short, Captain Dalgetty, you must be UN PEU CLAIR-VOYANT.”
“Ah ha! your Excellency,” said the Captain, twisting his hard features
into an inimitable expression of cunning and intelligence, “if they do
not put my head in a poke, which I have known practised upon honourable
soldados who have been suspected to come upon such errands as the
present, your Excellency may rely on a preceese narration of whatever
Dugald Dalgetty shall hear or see, were it even how many turns of tune
there are in M’Callum More’s pibroch, or how many checks in the sett of
his plaid and trews.”
“Enough,” answered Montrose; “farewell, Captain Dalgetty: and as they
say that a lady’s mind is always expressed in her postscript, so I would
have you think that the most important part of your commission lies in
what I have last said to you.”
Dalgetty once more grinned intelligence, and withdrew to victual his
charger and himself, for the fatigues of his approaching mission.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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