Having wits, however, he stumbled on a new
line of argument.
"Then, sir," he said, "there is the great port of Glasgow to be taken in.
There's more ready wealth there than in any other town in Scotland, and
its moneys, public and peculiar, will give you the means of raising a
great army for the spring."
"Any port in a storm," said the Prince, scowling at him.
Being a Stuart, Charles did not realize that every one of these chiefs
was a king-in-little, accustomed to unfettered independence of action.
There were curious contrasts in him, for he was as blundering and
incapable in dealing with an assembly as he was sure and brilliant in
dealing with a man by himself.
Feeling began to run high. One of the chiefs jerked himself on to his
feet and harangued the Prince like a master rating an apprentice. He was
almost as long and thin as one of Jane's line-props, and had high, jutting
cheek-bones and jaws that snapped on the ends of his sentences like a
rat-trap.
"I'm for gaein' back while the road's open behint us," he said. "If we
dinna, and I get back at a', which is dootfu', I shall gae back wi' barely
a dozen loons to my tail, an' the Cawmbells, be damned to every man o' the
name, will ride on my back for the rest of my days.
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