this
army."

"You are a dour and suspicious devil, Jock, and you've always been the
same ever since I remember you. Captain MacKay is a whig and a
Presbyterian, but he is a good soldier, and I wish I had been more
civil to him last night. We are here to fight for the Prince of
Orange and to beat the French, and let the best man win; it will be
time enough to quarrel when we get back to Scotland. Kindly Scots
should bury their differences, and stand shoulder to shoulder in a
foreign land."

"That is bonnie talk, laird, but dinna forget there's been twa kinds
of Scot in the land since the Reformation, and there will be twa to
the end of the chapter, and they'll never agree till the day of
judgment, and then they'll be on opposite sides. There was Queen Mary
and there was John Knox, there was that false-hearted loon Argyle,
that ye gave a grand nip at the fire last nicht, and there was the
head o' your hoose, the gallant Marquis--peace to his soul. Now
there's the Carnegies and the Gordons and the rest o' the royal
families in the Northeast, and the sour-blooded Covenanters down in
the West, and it's no in the nature o' things that they should
agree any more than oil and water. As for me, the very face of a
Presbyterian whig makes me sick. But there's the trumpet again,"
and Grimond helped his master to put on his arms.

"I've been awfu favored this mornin', Maister John, for what div ye
think? I've secured nae less than a baggage waggon for oorsels. The
driver was stravagin' aboot in the dark and didna know where he was
going, so I asked him if he wasna coming for the baggage of the
English gentlemen, to say naething of a Scots gentleman. When he was
trying to understand me, and I was trying to put some sense into him,
up comes Mr. Carlton, and I explained the situation to him. He told
the driver in his own language that I would guide him to the spot, and
me and the other men are packing the whole of the gentlemen's luggage
and ane or twa comforts in the shape of meat and bedding which the
fools round about us didna seem to notice, or were going to leave.
That waggon, Mr. John, is a crownin' mercy, and I'm to sit beside the
driver, and it will no be my blame if there's no a tent and a supper
wherever Providence sends us this nicht." And Jock went off in great
feather to look after his acquisition, while his master joined his
comrades of the Prince's guard.

As the day rapidly breaks, they find themselves passing fro