n him to assist me. "Ah
Finlay," said I, "this fellow will not give me up the horse." Finlay
flew to me like lightning, immediately presented his pistol to the head
of this man, and threatened to blow out his brains if he hesitated a
moment to let go the bridle. The fellow, who had the appearance of a
servant, at length yielded and took to his heels. Having obtained the
horse, I attempted to mount him several times, but all my efforts were
ineffectual, as I was without strength and completely exhausted. I
called again on poor Finlay, though he was already some paces from me,
to assist me to mount. He returned, took me in his arms, with as much
ease as if I had been a child, and threw me on the horse like a loaded
sack, giving the horse at the same time a heavy blow to make him set off
with me. Then wishing that I might have the good fortune to make my
escape, he bounded off like a roe, and was in a moment out of sight. We
were hardly more than fifteen or twenty paces from the enemy when he
quitted me. As soon as I found myself at the distance of thirty or forty
paces, I endeavoured to set myself right on the horse, put my feet in
the stirrups, and rode off as fast as the wretched animal could carry
me.'

[Illustration]

There is something peculiarly funny in the simplicity of this account of
horse-stealing with violence! Why a man should be more of a coward who
clings to his own property and only means of safety, than the person who
deliberately deprives him of both, is not easy to see. But Johnstone
never doubts for one moment that what he does is always right, and what
anyone else does is always wrong, and he goes on complacently to remark
that he probably 'saved the life of the poltroon who held the horse, in
rousing him out of his panic fear, for in less than two minutes the
English army would have passed over him.'[16]

The shelter which Johnstone made up his mind to seek was the castle of
Rothiemurchus, the property of the Grant family, situated in the heart
of the mountains, and on the banks of the 'rapid Spey.' But his troubles
were not so easily over. The English army barred the way, and Johnstone
was forced to take the road to Inverness. Again he was turned from his
path by the dreaded sight of the British uniform, and, accompanied by a
Highlander whom he had met by chance, he took refuge in a small cottage
in Fort Augustus. In spite of his peculiar views about courage,
Johnstone was a man who generally man