"'You'll on an' you'll march to Carlisle ha'
To be hanged and quartered, an' a', an' a'.'

"Come, Mont-Campbell, you haven't answered my question yet. If you knew
where Charles Edward Stuart was in hiding would you give him up?" He
looked at me from under lowered lids, vastly entertained, playing with me
as a cat does with a mouse.

"I am a fery good servant of the King, God bless him whatefer, and I would
just do my duty," answered I, still keeping the role I had assumed.

"Of course he would. Ach, liebe himmel! Any loyal man would be bound to do
so," broke in Cumberland.

Volney's eyes shone. "I'm not so sure," said he. "Now supposing, sir, that
one had a very dear friend among the rebels; given the chance, ought he to
turn him over to justice?"

"No doubt about it. Friendship ends when rebellion begins," said the Duke,
sententiously.

Sir Robert continued blandly to argue the case, looking at me out of the
tail of his eye. Faith, he enjoyed himself prodigiously, which was more
than I did, for I was tasting a bad quarter of an hour. "Put it this way,
sir: I have a friend who has done me many good turns. Now assume that I
have but to speak the word to send him to his death. Should the word be
spoken?"

The Duke said dogmatically that a soldier's first duty was to work for the
success of his cause regardless of private feelings.

"Or turn it this way," continued Volney, "that the man is not a friend.
Suppose him a rival claimant to an estate I mean to possess. Can I in
honour give him up? What would you think, Mont--er--Campbell?"

"Not Mont-Campbell, but Campbell," I corrected. "I will be thinking, sir,
that it would be a matter for your conscience, and at all events it iss
fery lucky that you do not hafe to decide it."

"Still the case might arise. It's always well to be prepared," he
answered, laughing.

"Nonsense, Robert! What the deuce do you mean by discussing such a matter
with a Highland kerne? I never saw your match for oddity," said the Duke.

While he was still speaking there was a commotion in the outer room of the
inn. There sounded a rap at the door, and on the echo of the knock an
officer came into the room to announce the capture of a suspect. He was
followed by the last man in the world I wanted to see at that moment, no
other than the Campbell soldier whose place I was usurping. The fat was in
the fire with a vengeance now, and though I fell back to the rear I knew
it was bu