By dint, however, of some exceedingly cautious and wary manoeuvring, M’Kay at length found himself in a position favourable to his meditated proceedings.  On doing so, he, with the speed and force of lightning, darted an arm out on either side of him, seized a soldier by the breast with each hand, and with as much ease as a powerful dog could turn over a kitten, laid them both gently on their backs on the floor of the passage, where he held them extended at full length, and immovable in his tremendous grasp, till he felt assured that Lord Rae had cleared the prison.  This the latter effected with the most perfect success.  The moment M’Kay seized the soldiers—­an act of which Lord Rae was apprised by the former’s calling out, “Noo, noo, my lort”—­he rushed out, ran along the passage, descended the stair in three or four leaps, came upon the little turnkey unawares, as he was looking over the half-door of the prison entrance—­his sole occupation during three-fourths of the day—­seized him by the neck of the coat behind, laid him down, as M’Kay had done by the soldiers, at his full length—­no great length after all—­on the floor; drew the form to the door, placed it over the little turnkey in such a way as to prevent his rising, jumped on it, leapt into the street at one bound, and instantly disappeared.  All this was done in the tenth part of the time that has been taken to relate it.  It was, in truth, the work of but a moment.

On being satisfied that Lord Rae had made his escape—­

“Noo, lads, ye may got up,” said M’Kay, loosening his hold of the men, and starting himself to his feet.  “Ta burd’s flown; but ye may look after ta cage, and see tat no more o’ your canaries got away.”

Freed from the powerful grasp which had hitherto pinned them to the floor, the soldiers sprang to their feet, and endeavoured to get hold of their muskets.  Seeing this, M’Kay again seized them, and again threw them to the floor; but on this occasion it was merely to show the power he had over them, if they should still have any doubt of it.

“Noo, lads, I’ll tell you what it is,” said M’Kay, addressing the prostrate soldiers—­“if you’ll behave yoursels desenly, and no be botherin’ me wi’ ony more o’ your tarn nonsense, I’ll aloo you to make me your prisoner; for I’m no intending to run away; I’ll kive myself up to save your hides, and take my shance of ta law for what I’ll do.  Tat’s my mind of it, lads.  If you like to acree to it, goot and well; if not, I will knock your two heads togidder, till your prains go into smash.”

But too happy to accept of such terms, the soldiers at once assented to them; and on their doing so, were permitted once more to resume their legs, when M’Kay peaceably yielded himself their prisoner.  The gigantic Highlander could easily have effected his own escape; but he could not have done so without having recourse to that violence which had been so anxiously deprecated by both his master and mistress.