the same time calling out that he
was a friend.

"I recognized you behind the birches, Montagu, and thought that you and
your friend could use another horse. Take my Galloway. You will find him a
good traveller."

I ask you to believe that we stared long at him. A wistful smile touched
his sallow face.

"We're not all ruffians in the English army, lad. If I aid your escape it
is because prisoners have no rights this day. My advice would be for you
to strike for the hills."

"In troth and I would think your advisings good, sir," answered Donald.
"No glen will be too far, no ben too high, for a hiding-place from these
bloody Sassenach dogs." Then he stopped, the bitterness fading from his
voice, and added: "But I am forgetting myself. God, sir, the sights I have
seen this day drive me mad. At all events there iss one English officer
Captain Macdonald will remember whatever." And the Highlander bowed with
dignity.

I thanked Wolfe warmly, and lost no time in taking his advice. Captain
Roy's foot had by this time so swollen that he could not put it in the
stirrup. He was suffering a good deal, but at least the pain served to
distract him from the gloom that lay heavy on his spirits. From the
hillside far above the town we could see the lights of Inverness beginning
to glimmer as we passed. A score of times we had to dismount on account of
the roughness of the ground to lead our horses along the steep incline of
the mountainsides, and each time Donald set his teeth and dragged his
shattered ankle through bracken and over boulder by sheer dour pluck.
Hunger gnawed at our vitals, for in forty-eight hours we had but tasted
food. Deadly weariness hung on our stumbling footsteps, and in our gloomy
hearts lurked the coldness of despair. Yet hour after hour we held our
silent course, clambering like heather-cats over cleugh and boggy
moorland, till at last we reached Bun Chraobg, where we unsaddled for a
snatch of sleep.

We flung ourselves down on the soft heather wrapped in our plaids, but for
long slumber was not to be wooed. Our alert minds fell to a review of all
the horrors of the day: to friends struck down, to the ghastly carnage, to
fugitives hunted and shot in their hiding-places like wild beasts, to the
mistakes that had ruined our already lost cause. The past and the present
were bitter as we could bear; thank Heaven, the black shadow of the future
hung as yet but dimly on our souls. If we had had the second sigh