Macdonald. Have I given bonds to save this fool
from the consequences of his folly? I cherish no hatred toward him, but I
play no Jonathan to his David. Egad, it were a pretty role for me to
essay! You would cast me for a part full of heroics, the moving of heaven
and earth to save my dearest enemy. Thank you, I am not for it. Neither
for nor against him will I lift a hand. There is no malice in my heart
toward this poor condemned young gentleman. If he can win free I shall be
glad, even though his gain is my loss, but further than that I will not
go. He came between me and the thing I most desired on earth. Shall I help
him to the happiness which will condemn me to misery?"

For an instant the habitual veil of mockery was snatched aside and the
tortured soul of the man leaped from his burning eyes.

"You saved him at Portree," was all that Donald could say.

"I paid a debt to him and to Cumberland. The ledger is now balanced."

The Jacobite paced up and down the room for a minute, then stopped and
touched the other on his shoulder where he sat.

"I too am somewhat in your debt, Sir Robert. When Montagu opposed you he
fought for his own hand. Therein he was justified. But I, an outsider,
interfered in a quarrel that was not mine own, spoiled sport for you, in
short lost you the lassie. You followed her to Scotland; 'twas I that
drove you back to England when Montagu was powerless. From first to last I
am the rock on which your love bark has split. If your cause has spelled
failure I alone am to blame."

"So? What then?"

"Why this: without Captain Donald Roy Macdonald the lad had been helpless.
Donald was at his back to whisper words of advice and encouragement.
Donald contrived the plot which separated you from the lady. Donald stood
good fairy to the blessed pair of bairns and made of himsel' a
match-making auld mither. You owe your hatred to Donald Roy and not to the
lad who was but his instrument."

The macaroni looked at the other with an odd smile twitching at the
corners of his mouth.

"And so?"

"And so," continued the Macdonald triumphantly, a challenge in his voice
and manner, "and so, who but Donald should be your enemy? My certes, a
prettier foe at the broadsword you will not find in a' Scotland."

"I do not quite take your meaning. Would you fight with me?"

"Blithe would I be to cross the steel with you, but little that would help
Kenneth. My plan is this: save the lad from the halter and I w