is returned. In
point of birth, no exceptions can be made; in every other respect,
her advantages are equal to those which you yourself possess--think,
however, a moment. Sir Duncan is a fanatic--Presbyterian, at least--in
arms against the King; he is only with us in the quality of a prisoner,
and we are, I fear, but at the commencement of a long civil war. Is this
a time, think you, Menteith, for you to make proposals for his heiress?
Or what chance is there that he will now listen to it?"

Passion, an ingenious, as well as an eloquent advocate, supplied the
young nobleman with a thousand answers to these objections. He reminded
Montrose that the Knight of Ardenvohr was neither a bigot in politics
nor religion. He urged his own known and proved zeal for the royal
cause, and hinted that its influence might be extended and strengthened
by his wedding the heiress of Ardenvohr. He pleaded the dangerous state
of Sir Duncan's wound, the risk which must be run by suffering the young
lady to be carried into the country of the Campbells, where, in case of
her father's death, or continued indisposition, she must necessarily
be placed under the guardianship of Argyle, an event fatal to his
(Menteith's) hopes, unless he could stoop to purchase his favour by
abandoning the King's party.

Montrose allowed the force of these arguments, and owned, although the
matter was attended with difficulty, yet it seemed consistent with the
King's service that it should be concluded as speedily as possible.

"I could wish," said he, "that it were all settled in one way or
another, and that this fair Briseis were removed from our camp before
the return of our Highland Achilles, Allan M'Aulay.--I fear some fatal
feud in that quarter, Menteith--and I believe it would be best that Sir
Duncan be dismissed on his parole, and that you accompany him and his
daughter as his escort. The journey can be made chiefly by water, so
will not greatly incommode his wound--and your own, my friend, will be
an honourable excuse for the absence of some time from my camp."

"Never!" said Menteith. "Were I to forfeit the very hope that has so
lately dawned upon me, never will I leave your Excellency's camp while
the royal standard is displayed. I should deserve that this trifling
scratch should gangrene and consume my sword-arm, were I capable
of holding it as an excuse for absence at this crisis of the King's
affairs."

"On this, then, you are determined?" said M