"What shall I do, kind Heaven, if the rage of the brute who commands me is not yet sated? Should I refuse to obey him? Then am I dishonored. A soldier can not in time of war refuse to carry out the orders of his commander. This brute could have me shot upon the spot, and the shield of the Camerons would be forever tarnished. Who would trouble himself to see that justice was done to the memory of the soldier who chose death rather than the stain of ingratitude? On the contrary, that which was with me but an emotion of grateful remembrance, would certainly be imputed to me for treason by this creature who hounds me with his devilish malice." The harsh voice of Major Montgomery put an end to these reflections. "What are you doing here?" he growled. "I have left my men by the edge of the river, and was proposing to encamp there after our long march." "It is not late," answered the major, "and you know the country better than I. You will easily find for your encampment another place than that which I have just chosen for myself." "I will march at once," said Archie. "There is another river about a mile from here where we can camp for the night." "Very well," said Montgomery, in an insolent voice; "and as you have but a few more houses to burn in this district, your men will soon be able to rest." "It is true," said Lochiel, "for there remain but five more dwellings. Two of these, however, the group of buildings which you see yonder and a mill on the stream where I am going to camp, belong to the Seigneur D'Haberville, the man who during my exile took me in and treated me as a son. For God's sake, Major Montgomery, give the order yourself for their destruction!" "I never should have believed," replied the major, "that a British officer would have dared to utter treason." "You forget, sir," said Archie, restraining himself with difficulty, "that I was then a mere child. But once more I implore you, in the name of all you hold most dear, give the order yourself, and do not force upon me the dishonor of setting the torch to the home of them who in my days of adversity heaped me with benefits." "I understand," replied the major, with a sneer, "you wish to keep a way open to return to the favor of your friends when occasion shall arise." At this insulting sarcasm Archie was tempted for an instant to draw his claymore and cry: "If you are not as cowardly as you are insolent, defend yourself, Major Montgomery!" Happily, reason came to his aid. Instead of grasping his sword, his hand directed itself mechanically toward his breast, which he tore fiercely. Then he remembered the words of the witch: "Keep your pity for yourself, Archibald de Lochiel, when, forced to execute a barbarous order, your nails shall tear that breast which covers, nevertheless, a noble heart." "She was indeed taught of hell, that woman," thought he, "when she uttered that prophecy to a Cameron of Lochiel."