Love stories; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
It was addressed "To Captain Ian Gordon," and when I opened the
envelope and unfolded the contents I found them to commence with these
same words and no other form of ceremony. I instantly knew the strong,
irregular, aggressive and yet persuasive handwriting to be that of the
Black Colonel, but unconsciously, as a girl tries at the end of a story
to find whether happiness be there, I turned to the signature--"your
kinsman, Jock Farquharson of Inverey." What went before, when I had
time to master it, was this:
"These greetings, which I am inditing in the cold safety of the
Colonel's Bed, a fastness where no enemy has yet tracked me, though all
my true friends in the countryside know the secret roads to it, will be
delivered to you by my faithful Red Murdo, who deserves blessings,
whereas I sometimes give him curses; and their purpose is to tell you
explicitly why I asked you to meet me in the Pass the other evening,
since events, on which I here offer no comment, made it impossible for
us to have any plain, forthright talk.
"I'll reveal the heart of my business by recalling that there is a long
association between our families, who have always been friends and
enemies, and that the Corgarff Forbeses also come into this
association, and continue it, in a fashion which takes me to our
personal quarrel of Stuart and Guelph, because, by the exercise of a
little ingenuity, such as is permissible, and a kinsmanship such as is
proper, there may emerge good seasoning for us all.
"Pray remember that if the Corgarff Forbeses were to fail in issue, and
there is only one life between them and that failure, the life of a
young unmarried lady, I, by descent on the distaff side, which I need
not outline in particularity, would be heir to the estates; only as a
Jacobite outlawed, a broken man, I can inherit nothing, not even
possess, little as it is now, my own in peace.
"But, if I am not ill-informed, and news travels among the hills as
swiftly as, we are told, it travels in the desert, King George's
advisers would gladly return the Corgarff estates to the Forbes family
if that family had a strong man at its head and so such an influence as
would keep the region, always a key to the Highlands, I will not
exactly say in order for the German king, because that would be a
tactless fashion of arranging, but wean it gradually from its sympathy
for Prince Charlie, and his house of misadventure and ill-luck.
"Now, if you will be good enough to assume in me qualities for this
mission and the willingness to undertake it; if you will accept the
circumstance that it would merely be a case of a remote legal heir
coming into his own by a round-about way; and if you will set those
facts in what I consider the national importance of the matter and help
it forward in a form so delicate and chivalrous that I must not even
hint it, why, you will be rendering a potent service to the cause which
enlists you and which might, who knows, enlist me also!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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