"May God in His mercy avert so great a calamity," said MacKay after a pause. "When brother turns against brother in the same nation it is the cruellest of all wars. But the rulers of Scotland may make themselves sure that if they drive God-fearing people mad, they will rise against their oppressors. Mr. Graham, however, has wisdom on his side--I wish it had come a minute sooner--when he said there was no place for our Scots quarrels in the Prince's army. Wherefore I say no more on that matter, but I pray we all may have the desire of a soldier's heart, a righteous cause, a fair battle, and a crowning victory, and that we all in the hour of peril may do our part as Christian gentlemen."
"Amen to that, Captain MacKay of Scourie, three times Amen!" cried Graham. "I drink it in this wine, and pledge you all to brave deeds when a chance comes our way. The sooner the better and the gladder I shall be, for our race have never been more content than when the swords were clashing. I wish to heaven we were serving under a more high-spirited commander; I deny not his courage, else I would not be among his guard, nor his skill, but I confess that I do not love a man whose blood runs so slow, and whose words drop like icicles. But these be hasty words, and should not be spoken except among honorable comrades when the wine is going round by the camp-fire. And here is Jock Grimond who, because he taught me to catch a trout and shoot the muir-fowl when I was a little lad, thinks he ought to rule me all my days, and has been telling me for the last ten minutes that he has prepared some kind of bed with the remains of my tent. So good night and sound sleep, gentlemen, and may to-morrow bring the day for which we pray."