“And the something more that you will not understand--the something that has carried us to Derby, as by a miracle. Listen, my lord! I ask you to listen. You go to this Council. In an hour or so all will be settled, one way or the other. Remember that you Highland chiefs have the Stuart’s honour in your hands, the lives of all these simple Highlanders. You know that the Prince has one mind only--to push forward--but that you can overrule him if you will.” Sir Jasper’s voice was strained and harsh, so eager was he to bring his voice to the Council, if only by deputy. “You know, Lord Murray, that the Highlanders are with their Prince, in thought, in faith, in eagerness to run the gauntlet. You know, too, that your Scots tradition bids them, liking it or no, follow their chieftains first, their Prince afterwards.” “I am well aware of it. That is the weapon I mean to make full use of, since you compel my candour.” It was a moment when men are apt to find unsuspected, gusty feelings stir and cry for outlet. For neither to Sir Jasper nor Lord Murray was there any doubt that the whole well-being of England--England, thrifty, pleasant, mistress of the seas, and royalist to the core of her strong, tender heart--rested on this Council that was soon to make its choice between opposing policies. And Lord Murray, in his own cold fashion, believed that he was the wise counsellor of the enterprise, enforcing prudence on hot-headed zealots; for Murray was three parts honest, though he was cursed from birth by lack of breadth and that practical, high imagination which makes fine leaders. “I am sorry,” said Sir Jasper unexpectedly. “Till you die, Lord Murray, you’ll regret your share in this. You’ve gained many to your side, and may carry what you have in mind; but, if you have your way, I’d rather die on Tower Hill than lie on the bed you’re making for yourself. You’ll think better of it?” he broke off, with a quick tenderness that surprised him. “You’re brave, you’re capable; surely you will see the open road to London as I see it now--the only road of honour. For your own sake----” “For my own sake?” snapped Murray, moved against his will. “Why should you care so much, sir, for what concerns my happiness?” And then again Sir Jasper did not know his mood, was not master of the words that found their own heedless outlet. “Why? Because, perhaps, we fought together--long ago, it seems--because the man who wins a duel has always some queer, tender liking for his adversary. My lord Murray, I would wish to see you a strong man in this Council--strong as the Prince himself. I wish--dear God! I wish to ride the London road beside you, forgetting we once quarrelled.”