regarded a bishop with reverence for the sake
of his office, and he was ready to die, as the Marquis of Montrose had
done before him, for the Stuart line and their rightful place. One
can see as he stretches himself, raising his arms above his head with
a taking gesture, that he is not more than middle size and slightly
built, though lithe and sinewy as a young tiger, but what catches
one's eye is the face, which is lit up by a sudden flash of firelight.
It is that of a woman rather than a man, and a beautiful woman to
boot, and this girl face he was to keep through all the days of strife
and pain, and also fierce deeds, till they carried him dead from
Killiecrankie field. It was a full, rich face, with fine complexion
somewhat browned by campaign life, with large, expressive eyes of
hazel hue, whose expression could change with rapidity from love to
hate, which could be very gentle in a woman's wooing, or very hard
when dealing with a Covenanting rebel, but which in repose were apt to
be sad and hopeless. The lips are rich and flexible, the nose strong
and straight, the eyebrows high and well arched, and the mouth, with
the short upper lip, is both tender and strong. His abundant and rich
brown hair he wears in long curls falling over his shoulders, as did
the cavaliers, and he is dressed with great care in the height of
military fashion, evidently a gallant and debonair gentleman. He has
just ceased from badinage with Rooke, in which that honest soldier's
somewhat homely army jokes have been worsted by the graceful play of
Graham's wit, who was ever gay, but never coarse, who was no ascetic,
and was ever willing to drink the king's health, but, as his worst
enemies used grudgingly to admit, cared neither for wine nor women.
Silence falls for a little on the company. Claverhouse looking into
the fire and seeing things of long ago and far away, hums a Royalist
ballad to the honor of King Charles, and the confounding of crop-eared
Puritans. Among the company was that honest gentleman, Captain George
Carlton, who was afterwards to tell many entertaining anecdotes of the
War in Spain under that brilliant commander Lord Peterborough. And as
Carlton, who was ever in thirst for adventures, had been serving with
the fleet, and had only left it because he thought there might be more
doing now in other quarters, Venner demanded whether he had seen
anything whose telling would make the time pass more gayly by the
fire, for as that