第76章 A LEGEND OF MONTROSE.(69)

On the right of the Campbells,the Knight of Ardenvohr obtained some advantage,through his military skill and by strength of numbers.He had moved forward obliquely the extreme flank of his line at the instant the Royalists were about to close,so that they sustained a fire at once on front and in flank,and,despite the utmost efforts of their leader,were thrown into some confusion.At this instant,Sir Duncan Campbell gave the word to charge,and thus unexpectedly made the attack at the very moment he seemed about to receive it.Such a change of circumstances is always discouraging,and often fatal.But the disorder was remedied by the advance of the Irish reserve,whose heavy and sustained fire compelled the Knight of Ardenvohr to forego his advantage,and content himself with repulsing the enemy.The Marquis of Montrose,in the meanwhile,availing himself of some scattered birch trees,as well as of the smoke produced by the close fire of the Irish musketry,which concealed the operation,called upon Dalgetty to follow him with the horse,and wheeling round so as to gain the right flank and even the rear of the enemy,he commanded his six trumpets to sound the charge.The clang of the cavalry trumpets,and the noise of the galloping of the horse,produced an effect upon Argyle's right wing which no other sounds could have impressed them with.The mountaineers of that period had a superstitious dread of the war-horse,like that entertained by the Peruvians,and had many strange ideas respecting the manner in which that animal was trained to combat.

When,therefore,they found their ranks unexpectedly broken,and that the objects of their greatest terror were suddenly in the midst of them,the panic,in spite of Sir Duncan's attempts to stop it,became universal.Indeed,the figure of Major Dalgetty alone,sheathed in impenetrable armour,and making his horse caracole and bound,so as to give weight to every blow which he struck,would have been a novelty in itself sufficient to terrify those who had never seen anything more nearly resembling such a cavalier,than a SHELTY waddling under a Highlander far bigger than itself.The repulsed Royalists returned to the charge;the Irish,keeping their ranks,maintained a fire equally close and destructive.There was no sustaining the fight longer.Argyle's followers began to break and fly,most towards the lake,the remainder in different directions.The defeat of the right wing,of itself decisive,was rendered irreparable by the death of Auchenbreck,who fell while endeavouring to restore order.

The Knight of Ardenvohr,with two or three hundred men,all gentlemen of descent and distinguished gallantry,--for the Campbells are supposed to have had more gentlemen in their ranks than any of the Highland clans,endeavoured,with unavailing heroism,to cover the tumultuary retreat of the common file.

Their resolution only proved fatal to themselves,as they were charged again and again by fresh adversaries,and forced to separate from each other,until at length their aim seemed only to be to purchase an honourable death by resisting to the very last.

"Good quarter,Sir Duncan,"called out Major Dalgetty,when he discovered his late host,with one or two others,defending himself against several Highlanders;and,to enforce his offer,,he rode up to him with his sword uplifted.Sir Duncan's reply was the discharge of a reserved pistol,which took effect not on the person of the rider,but on that of his gallant horse,which,shot through the heart,fell dead under him.Ranald MacEagh,who was one of those who had been pressing Sir Duncan hard,took the opportunity to cut him down with his broadsword,as he turned from him in the act of firing the pistol.

Allan M'Aulay came up at this moment.They were,excepting Ranald,followers of his brother who were engaged on that part of the field,"Villains!"he said,"which of you has dared to do this,when it was my positive order that the Knight of Ardenvohr should be taken alive?"

Half-a-dozen of busy hands,which were emulously employed in plundering the fallen knight,whose arms and accoutrements were of a magnificence befitting his quality,instantly forbore the occupation,and half the number of voices exculpated themselves,by laying the blame on the Skyeman,as they called Ranald MacEagh.

"Dog of an Islander!"said Allan,forgetting,in his wrath,their prophetic brotherhood,"follow the chase,and harm him no farther,unless you mean to die by my hand."They were at this moment left almost alone;for Allan's threats had forced his own clan from the spot,and all around had pressed onwards toward the lake,carrying before them noise,terror,and confusion,and leaving behind only the dead and dying.The moment was tempting to MacEagh's vengeful spirit.--"That I should die by your hand,red as it is with the blood of my kindred,"said he,answering the threat of Allan in a tone as menacing as his own,"is not more likely than that you should fall by mine."With that,he struck at M'Aulay with such unexpected readiness,that he had scarce time to intercept the blow with his target.

"Villain!"said Allan,in astonishment,"what means this?"