able to stand alone and live
forsaken at Glenogilvie, with friends neither among Cavaliers nor
Covenanters? Could he blame her if she separated herself from a
ruined cause and a discredited husband, for would she not be only
doing what soldiers and courtiers had done, what everybody except
himself was doing? Why should she, a young woman with life before her,
tie herself up with a hopeless cause, and one who might be called
commander-in-chief of James's army, but who had nothing to show for it
but a handful of reckless troopers and a few hundred Highland thieves,
a man whom all sensible people would be regarding as a mad adventurer?
Would it not be a stroke of wisdom--the Whigs were a cunning crew, and
he recalled that Lord Dundonald was an adroit schemer--to buy the
future for herself and her child by selling him and returning to her
old allegiance? There was enough reality in this ghost to give it, as
it were, a bodily shape, and Graham, who had been flinging himself
about, struck out with his fist as if at flesh and blood.

"Damn you, begone, begone!"

For a while he lay quietly and made as though he would have slept.
Then the ghosts began to gather around his bed again as if the
Covenanters he had murdered had come from the other world and were
having their day of vengeance. It must have been Jean who met
Livingstone in the orchard, and it must have been an assignation.
There was no woman in Dudhope had her height and carriage, and the
vision of her proud face that he had loved so well brought scalding
tears to his eyes. For what purpose had she met Livingstone, if not
to arrange some base surrender, if not to give information about
him so that MacKay might find him more easily? Was it worse than that,
if worse could be when all was black as hell? Livingstone had known
her for years; it had been evident that he admired her; he was an
attractive man of his kind. Nothing was more likely in that day,
when unlawful love was not a shame, but a boast, than that he had been
making his suit to Lady Dundee. Her husband was away, likely never
to return; she was a young and handsome woman, and Livingstone had
time upon his hands at Dundee. A month ago he had sworn that the
virtue of his wife was unassailable as that of the Blessed Virgin; he
would have sworn it two days ago as he rode through Killiecrankie; but
now, with the brooding darkness round him and its awful shapes
peopling the room, he was not sure of anything that