At the same signal a trusty man on the watch was to give notice to a
party hid in the abbey, to secure the trap-door above. The signal was to
be my presenting a pistol to the captain of the rebels, who intended
to meet and seize me on my return from my evening’s walk. Mr. M’Leod at
first objected to my hazarding a meeting with this man; but I insisted
upon it, and I was not sorry to give a public proof of my loyalty, and
my personal courage. As to Joe Kelly, I also undertook to secure him.
Mr. M’Leod left me, and went to conduct his fishing-party. As soon as he
was gone, I sent for Joe Kelly to play on the flute to me. I guarded my
looks and voice as well as I could, and he did not see or suspect any
thing--he was too full of his own schemes. To disguise his own plots
he affected great gaiety; and to divert me, alternately played on the
flute, and told me good stories all the morning. I would not let him
leave me the whole day. Towards evening I began to talk of my journey to
England, proposed setting out the next morning, and sent Kelly to look
for some things in what was called _the strong closet_--a closet with
a stout door and iron-barred windows, out of which no mortal could make
his escape. Whilst he was busy searching in a drawer, I shut the door
upon him, locked it, and put the key into my pocket. As I left the
castle, I said in a jesting tone to some of the servants who met me--“I
have locked Joe Kelly up in the strong room; if he calls to you to let
him out never mind him; he will not get out till I come home from my
walk--I owe him this trick.” The servants thought it was some jest, and
I passed on with my loaded pistols in my pocket. I walked for some
time by the sea-shore, without seeing any one. At last I espied our
fishing-boat, just peering out, and then keeping close to the shore. I
was afraid that the party would be impatient at not seeing my signal,
and would come out to the mouth of the cave, and show themselves too
soon. If Mr. M’Leod had not been their commander, this, as I afterwards
learned, would have infallibly happened; but he was so punctual, cool,
and peremptory, that he restrained the rest of the party, declaring
that, if it were till midnight, he would wait till the signal agreed
upon was given. At last I saw a man creeping out of the cave--I sat down
upon my wonted stone, and yawned as naturally as I could; then began to
describe figures in the sand with my stick, as I was wont to do, still
watching the image of the man in the water as he approached. He was
muffled up in a frieze great coat; he sauntered past, and went on to a
turn in the road, as if looking for some one. I knew well for whom he
was looking. As no Joe Kelly came to meet him, he returned in a few
minutes towards me. I had my hand upon the pistol in my pocket.
“You are my Lard Glenthorn, I presume,” said he.
“I am.”
“Then you will come with me, if you plase, my lard,” said he.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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