Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 The return of a prodigal
 The Jacobite agent
 In France
 The convent of our lady
 Hidden foes
 A perilous journey
 The end of the quarrel
 Prince Charles
 A mission
 The march to Derby
 A baffled plot
 Happy days
 Back Cover

Group Title: Bonnie Prince Charlie : a tale of Fontenoy and Culloden
Title: Bonnie Prince Charlie
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00086087/00001
 Material Information
Title: Bonnie Prince Charlie a tale of Fontenoy and Culloden
Series Title: Fireside series for boys
Physical Description: vi, 1, 350 p., 12 leaves of plates : ill. ; 20 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Henty, G. A ( George Alfred ), 1832-1902
Browne, Gordon, 1858-1932 ( Illustrator )
W. L. Allison Co ( Publisher )
Publisher: W. L. Allison Co.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: [189-?]
Subject: Fontenoy, Battle of, Fontenoy, Hainaut, Belgium, 1745 -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Culloden, Battle of, Scotland, 1746 -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Princes -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
War -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Escapes -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Soldiers -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Loyalty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction -- Scotland   ( lcsh )
Biographical fiction -- 1895   ( rbgenr )
Bldn 1895
Genre: Biographical fiction   ( rbgenr )
novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
Statement of Responsibility: by G.A. Henty ; illustrated by Gordon Browne.
General Note: Pictorial front cover and spine.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00086087
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002391592
notis - ALZ6482
oclc - 10651668

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
        Page 1
    Title Page
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Table of Contents
        Page 5
        Page 6
    The return of a prodigal
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
    The Jacobite agent
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 30a
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 60a
        Page 61
    In France
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 90a
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    The convent of our lady
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 120a
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
    Hidden foes
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 150a
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
    A perilous journey
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 180a
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
        Page 185
        Page 186
        Page 187
        Page 188
        Page 189
        Page 190
        Page 191
        Page 192
        Page 193
        Page 194
        Page 195
        Page 196
        Page 197
        Page 198
        Page 199
    The end of the quarrel
        Page 200
        Page 201
        Page 202
        Page 203
        Page 204
        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
        Page 210a
        Page 211
        Page 212
        Page 213
        Page 214
        Page 215
        Page 216
        Page 217
    Prince Charles
        Page 218
        Page 219
        Page 220
        Page 221
        Page 222
        Page 223
        Page 224
        Page 225
        Page 226
        Page 227
        Page 228
        Page 229
        Page 230
        Page 231
        Page 232
        Page 233
        Page 234
        Page 235
        Page 236
        Page 237
        Page 238
        Page 239
        Page 240
        Page 240a
        Page 241
        Page 242
        Page 243
        Page 244
        Page 245
        Page 246
        Page 247
        Page 248
        Page 249
        Page 250
        Page 251
        Page 252
    A mission
        Page 253
        Page 254
        Page 255
        Page 256
        Page 257
        Page 258
        Page 259
        Page 260
        Page 261
        Page 262
        Page 263
        Page 264
        Page 265
        Page 266
        Page 267
        Page 268
        Page 269
    The march to Derby
        Page 270
        Page 270a
        Page 271
        Page 272
        Page 273
        Page 274
        Page 275
        Page 276
        Page 277
        Page 278
        Page 279
        Page 280
        Page 281
        Page 282
        Page 283
        Page 284
        Page 285
        Page 286
        Page 287
    A baffled plot
        Page 288
        Page 289
        Page 290
        Page 291
        Page 292
        Page 293
        Page 294
        Page 295
        Page 296
        Page 297
        Page 298
        Page 299
        Page 300
        Page 300a
        Page 301
        Page 302
        Page 303
        Page 304
        Page 305
        Page 306
        Page 307
        Page 308
        Page 309
        Page 310
        Page 311
        Page 312
        Page 313
        Page 314
        Page 315
        Page 316
        Page 317
        Page 318
        Page 319
        Page 320
        Page 321
        Page 322
        Page 323
        Page 324
        Page 325
        Page 326
        Page 327
        Page 328
        Page 329
        Page 330
        Page 330a
        Page 331
        Page 332
        Page 333
        Page 334
        Page 335
        Page 336
        Page 337
        Page 338
        Page 339
    Happy days
        Page 340
        Page 341
        Page 342
        Page 343
        Page 344
        Page 345
        Page 346
        Page 347
        Page 348
        Page 349
        Page 350
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

The Baldwin Library
3 Univcrsity
R mB Horida

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; ----------- 7411 II-~~muna6s~aa~anaa-



/4 i'

r- I.. IW -
-- I


'Xbe JaK'obure adren iirnci ot` jiogrl, -Pbg/ i;.



.Author of "By Pike adrl Dht "With Clive in Iedia," "The Dragon and
the Raui n." "T1i Yoru '."garthaginian," "The Lion ofthe North,"
"With L.e n I'trrinia," "Captain Bayley's Heir,"
? *"' Undt r Drolu:' Flag," "By England's Aid,"
"In reedoim's Cause," _"In the
Reign of Terror," etc.



W. C O
: .W. L. ALLIS ON CO.,


I suppose most ot uLs, while listening to the Jacobite
songs of Scotland, songs sometimes martial and stirring,
sometimes pl)initive and pathetic, have .flt that our sym-
pathies were all with Priucoe Charlie and his devoted fol-
]owers. It munt be admitted, however, that common sense
and the logic of hard facts preponderate ou the other side
S'of the scale, and we may well congratulate ourselves that
'. the attempt of the youug Preteuder to win back the inher-
itaonce of his fathers ws a complete and irremediable fail-
re. Like nmst of his race, Prince Charlie possessed in a
very high degree the art of winning the hearts of those
with whom he came in contact. He was yonug, handsome,
and brave, co ,rtens in manner, and with a fund of animal
spirits, -which enabled him to support the hardships he
underwent with cheerfulness and good t-emper. Bnt,
Though well adapted for the leader of an alventurons ex-
peditiou, he had but few qualidcations which would have
Fitted him to rule. He was almost uneducated; his ideas
of royal prerogative were even more extreme than those of
his ancestor Charles the First: and as years went on he
lost the characteristics of his youth, and became a slovenly
sot, whose manners dlisEinsted all who came in contact with
him. It would have been far better for Prince Charlie's


memory had he had his wish and died at the head of his
gallant Highlanders of Culloden. -
It was well indeed for Britain that the enterprise failed.
Had it succeeded it would have inevitably been followed
in time by another revolution, another expulsion of the :
Starts, and the country would have been thrown back a
century in the path of civilization. But, although unsuc-
cessful, there are few episodes in history so romantic as
the attempt on the part of Prince Charles to wrest the T
throne of Britain from the House of Hanover, and the '-
adventures which befell him from the time he landed in
Scotland with half a dozen followers to the day when a.2:-
hunted fugitive he again gained the shelter of a French--
ship read like a chapter of fiction. For this reason I have
chosen the subject as the framework of my story.
Yours sincerely,

. ,--- -


S The Return of a Prodigal.................................... 7

SThe Jacobite Agent........................................ 26
Free. ............ ................ .... ........... 46

In France.......... ........... ............................... 6

Dettingen... .. ........ ...... ...... ...........*.******** 79

The Convent of Our Lady ................................... 97

M jther ... .............. .............. .................. 115

Hidden Foes ...... ............ ................. 1382

Fontenoy.......................... .... .......... 144 -

A Perilous Journey....................... ....... .. .... 162-

'_\r= -;~.t.~ :. '.:- -. .*'- '


Free..... ...................... ................ 182 I

The End of the Quarrel......... ........................... 200

Prince Charles............................. ............... 218:

Prestonpans............................ ................ 286

S A Mission............... .............................. 253

: The March to Derby........................................ 270

A Baffled Plot ..................................... ........ 288

Culloden ................................................. 805

Fugitives...... ......................... ................. 322

Ha Happy Days............. ,,,..... ...................... 340
-~ . -




IT was a dull evening in the month of September, 1728.
The apprentices had closed and barred the shutters and
the day's work was over. Supper was laid in the long
*room over the shop, the viands were on the table, and
round it were standing Bailie Anderson and his wife, his
Foreman John Gillespie, and his two apprentices. The
Matter were furtively eying the eatables, and wondering
i "h'ow much longer the grace which their master was deliv-
ering would be. Suddenly there was a knock at the door
;-.below. No one stirred until the bailie had finished his
grace, before which time the knock had been twice repeated.
"Elspeth, woman," the bailie said when he had brought
the grace to an end, "go down below and see who knocks '
so impatiently; look through the grille before you open
the door; these are not times when one opens to the first
stranger who knocks."
The old servant who had been standing behind her mis-
tress, went downstairs. The door was opened, and they
heard au exclamation of surprise at the answer to her
>-question, Who is it that's knocking as if the house be-
longed to him?"
Those gathered upstairs -heard thd bolts withdrawn.
. -.;There was a confused sound of talking and then a heavy
step was heard ascending the stairs, and without introduc-

-- A'- .. :' -


tion a tall man, wrapped in a cloak and carrying a child of
some two years old, strode into the room. He threw his
S' hat on to a settle and advanced straight toward the bailie,
who looked in surprise at this unceremonious entry.
"Don't you know me, Andrew?"
"Heaven preserve us," the bailie exclaimed, "why, it's -
S "Malcolm himself," the visitor repeated, "sound in
wind and limb."
"The Lord be praised!" the bailie exclaimed as he
grasped the other's hand and wrung it warmly. "I had
thought you dead years and years ago. Janet, this is my
S brother Malcolm of whom you have often heard me speak."
; "And of whom you can have heard little good, mistress,
if my brother has spoken the truth concerning me. I was
ever a ne'er-do-well, while Andrew stuck hard and fast to
S our father's trade."
"My husband has ever spoken with affection of you,"
Janet Anderson said. "The bailie is not given to speak
ill of any, much less of his own flesh and blood."
"And now sit down, Malcolm. Supper is waiting, and :
you are, I doubt not, ready for it. It-is ill talking to a ;
fasting man. When you have done you shall tell me what.7
you have been doing for the last fifteen years, and how it
comes that you thus suddenly come back among us with
your boy."
"He is no boy of 'mine," Malcolm said; "but I will tell
you all about it presently. First let me lay him down on ':
that settle, for the poor little chap is fast asleep and dead -
tired out. Elspeth, roll up my cloak and make a pillow ,
for him. That's right, he will do nicely now. You are ,
changed less than any of us, Elspeth. Just as hard to'::
look at, and, I doubt not, just as soft at heart as you used -l
to be when you tried to shield me when I got into scrapes.- -
And now to supper."


Little was said during the meal; fortunately the table
was bounteously spread, for the newcomer's appetite was
prodigious; but at last he was satisfied, and after a long
drink at the horn beside him, which Elspeth had kept
filled with ale, he said:
"There's nothing like a Scottish meal after all, Andrew.
French living is well enough for a time, but one tires of
it; and many a time when I have been lying down supper-
less on the sod, after marching and fighting the whole day,
I have longed for a bowl of porridge and a platter well
filled with oatmeal cakes."
Supper over, John and the apprentices retired. Elspeth ,-
went off to prepare the guest's chamber and to make up a
little bed for the child.
"Now, brother, let us hear your story; but, first of all,
perhaps you want to light your pipe?"
"That do I," Malcolm replied, "if Mistress Janet has
no objection thereto."
"She is accustomed to it," the bailie said, answering for
: e' her. "I smoke myself; I deem that tobacco, like other
things, was given for our use, and methinks that with a
pipe between the lips men's brains work more easily and- ,
-: that it leadeth to pleasant converse." -
Janet went to a cupboard, brought out two long 'pipes
and a jar of tobacco, placed two tumblers, a flat bottle,
S and a jug of water on the table.
S"That is right," the bailie said. "I do not often touch
strong waters. The habit, as I see too plainly, is a harm-
ful one, and in this good city of Glasgow there are many,
even of those so placed that they should be an example to
*;: their fellows, who are given nightly to drink more than
,is good for them; but on an occasion like the present I .'
.deem it.no harm to take a glass."
S "I should think not," Malcolm said heartily; "it islong
since I tasted a glass of real Scotch spirit, and I never need

"I "W171:1 -


an excuse for taking a glass of whatever it. be that conies
iu my way. Not, Mistress Janet, that I am a toper. I
don't say tlut at the sack of a town, or at times when
; liquor is running, so to speak, to naste, I am more back-
waid than the rest; Lbut iny hIn': wi.:,lU.ln't be as steady as
it is if I hadl Ieen oue of tlhose v- ho ale never so happy as
whe they me iitlling them elves witli lii lnor. A.nl now,
Andrew, to my st,.iy. YoUi kni'o that when I saw you
last-just when the troubles in '15 began-in spite of all.
Your warnings to the contrary, I must needs throw myself
Into the thick of them. You, like a wise man, stuck to
:.* your shop, and here you are now a bailie of Glasgow; while
I, who have been wandering over the face of the earth
-fighting for the cause of France and risking my life a-
thousand times in a matter which concerned me in no way,
have returned just as penniless as I set out."
S"It is said, brother Malcolm," Janet said mildly, "that
a rolling stone gathers no moss."
"That is true enough," Malcolm assented; "and yet do
_you know there are few rolling stones who, if their time
were to come over again, would remain fixed in their bed.
.; Of course we have not the pleasures of home, of wives and
Children; but the life of adventure has its own joys, which -
I, for one, would not change for the others. However, -.
brother, as you know, I threw myself heart and soul into-:
that business.
S "The last time I saw you was just as I was starting with-
f- a score of others to make our way to join the Earl of Mar's i
army at Perth. I have seen many an army since, but
never did I see sixteen thousand finer fighting men than
; were there assembled. The Laird of Mackintosh brought '
five hundred clansmen from Inverness-shire, the Marquis '
':-of Huntly had five hundred horse and two thousand foot,
and the Earl Marischalhad a thousand men. The Laird
of Glenlyon brought five hundred Campbells, and the ,


Marquis of Tullibardine fourteen hundred, and a score of
other chiefs of less power were there with their clansmen.
There were enough men there to have done anything had
they been properly armed and led; but though arms and
ammunition had been promised from France, none came,
Sand the Earl of Mar had so little decision that he would ,
havewrecked the finest army that ever marched.
S"The army lay doing nothing for weeks, and just before
we were expecting a movement, the company I belonged
Sto was sent with a force of Highlanders under Mackintosh
to join the army under the Lords Derwentwater, Ken-',;
Smure, and Nithsdale. Lord Derwentwater had risen with
a number of other gentlemen, and with their attendants
: and friends had marched .against Newcastle. They had
done nothing there, but remained idle near Hexham, till,
joined by a force raised in the Lowlands of Scotland by the
;: Earls of Nithsdale, Carnwath, and Wintoun, the united
army marched north again to Kelso, where we joined them.
S "We Scots soon saw that we had gained nothing by the
change of commanders. Lord Derwentwater was ignorant -
of military affairs, and he was greatly swayed by a Mr.
; Forster, who was somehow at the head of the business, and
who was not only incompetent, but proved to be a coward,
if not, as most folks believed, a traitor. So dissension
soon broke out, and fou-r hundred Highlanders marched. :
w : ay north. After a long delay it was resolved to move
south, where, it was said, we should be joined by great
numbers in Lancashire; but by this time all had greatly
Lost spirit and hope in the enterprise. We crossed the
border and marched down through Penrith, Appleby, and
-Kendal to Lancaster, and then on to Preston.
S ."I-was little more than a lad, Andrew, but even to me
i :: .ti seemed madness thus to march into England with, only
-:;..-two thousand men. Of these twelve hundred were foot,
a commanded by Brigadier Mackintosh; the others were,- -


horse. There were two troops of Stanhope's dragoons
- quartered in Preston, but these retired when we neared
Sthe town, and we entered without opposition. Next- day,
which was, I remember, the 10th of November, the chev-
: alier was proclaimed king, and some country gentlemen
With their tenants came in and joined us.
"I suppose it would have come to the same thing in the
end, but never were things so badly managed as they.were
by Mr. Forster.
S "Preston was a strong natural position; an enemy com-
ing from the south could only reach it by crossing a narrow
bridge over the river Ribble a mile and a half away, and
this could have been held by a company against an army.
From the bridge to the town the road was so narrow that
- in several places two men could not ride abreast. It ran
between two high and steep banks, and it was here that
Cromwell was nearly killed when he attacked Charles'
"Well, all these places, where we might certainly have-
S defended ourselves, were neglected, and we were all kept
in the town, where we formed four main posts. One was
in the churchyard, and this was commanded by Brigadier
-Mackintosh. In support of this was the volunteer horse
Sunder Derwentwater and the three other lords. Lord
Charles Murray was in command at a barricade at a little
distance from the churchyard. Colonel Mackintosh had
. charge of a post at a windmill; and the fourth was in the
center of the town.
S "Lord Derwentwater was a poor general, but he was a .
i- brave man. He and his two brothers, the Ratoliffs, rode
- about everywhere, setting an example of coolness, animat-
ing the soldiers, and seeing to the work on the barriers.
STwo days after we reached the town we heard that General.
Wilde was approaching. Colonel Farqnharson was sent
forward with portion of Mackintosh's battalion toehold


the bridge.and the pass; but Mr. Forster, who went out on
horseback, no sooner saw the enemy approaching than he
gave orders to Farquharson and his men to retreat to the
town. If I had been in Farquharson's place I would have
put a bullet through the coward's head, and would have
defended the bridge till the last.
"After that everything was confusion; the Highlanders
came back into the town furious and disheartened. The
garrison prepared to receive the enemy. Mr. Forster was
seen no more, and in fact he went straight back to the
house where he was lodging and took to his bed, where he
remained till all was over. The enemy came on slowly.
They could not understand why strong posts should be left
undefended, and feared falling in an ambuscade. I was at
the post commanded by Brigadier Mackintosh. I had
joined a company commanded by Leslie of Gleulyon, who
had brought with him some twenty men, and had made
up his company with men who, like myself, came up with-
out a leader. His company was attached to Mackintosh's
S"Presently the English came in sight, and as soon as
they ascertained that we were still there, which they had
::begun to doubt, they attacked us. We beat them back
handsomely, and Derwentwater with his cavalry charged
-their dragoons so fiercely that he drove them out of the
_town. It was late in the afternoon when the fight began,
Sand all night the struggle went on. At each of our posts
- we beat them back over ana over again. The town was
on fire in half a dozen places, hut luckily the night was
Still and the flames did not spread. We knew that it was
Sa hopeless fight we were making; for, from some prisoners,
Swe learned that three regiments of dragoons were also
Scoring up against us, and had already arrived at Clitheroe.
From some inhabitants, I suppose, the enemy learned that
t..he street leading to Wigan had not been barricaded, and


Lord Forrester brought up Preston's regiment by this way,:
S aud sti:l:lenly fell on the flank of our barrier. It-was a
tough fight, but we held our own till the news came that
Forster had agreed to capitulate.
I dou't say that our case wasn't hopeless. We were
outnumbered and had no leader; sooner or later we must
S have been overpowered. Still, no capitulation should have
S been made except on the terms of mercy to all concerned.
But Forster no doubt felt safe about himself, and that was
S all he cared for; and the end showed that he knew what
he was about, for while all the brave young noblemen, and
numbers of others, were either executed or punished in
other ways, Forster, who had been the leading spirit who
had persuaded them to rise, and led them into this strait,
was after a short imprisonment suffered to go free. I tell
you, brother Andrew, if I were to meet him now, even if
S it were in a church, I would drive my dagger into his'g
"However, there we were. So furious were we that it
was with difficulty the officers could prevent us from sally-
ing out sword in hand and trying to cut our way through
the enemy. As to Forster, if he had appeared in the
streets he would have been hewn to pieces. However, it
was useless to resist now; the English troops marched in'
and we laid down our arms, and our battalions marched
into a church and were guarded as prisoners. It was not.
a great army they had taken, for there were but one thou-
sand four hundred and ninety captured, including noble-
men, gentlemen, and officers.
"Many of us were wounded more or less. I had got a
slice on the shoulder from a dragoon's sword. This I
gained when rushing out to rescue Leslie, who had been
knocked down, and would have been slain by;three dra-
goons had I not stood over him till some more of our men
lrshed out and carried him in, He was not badly.hurt,


the sword having turned as it cut through his bonnet.
My action won his regard, and from that time until a
-month since we have never been separated. Under, a
strong escort of soldiers we were marched.south. In most
places the country people mocked us as we passed; but
here and there we saw among the crowds who gathered in
the streets of the towns through which we passed, faces
which expressed pity and sympathy.
"We were not badly treated on the march by our guard,.
Sand had. little to complain of. When we reached Barnet
we fell out as usual when the march was over, and I went
up to the door of a house and asked a woman, who looked.
pityingly at us, for a drink of water. She brought me
some, and while I drank she said:
"'We are Catholics and well-wishers of the chevalier;
if you can manage to slip in here after it is dark we will
furnish you with a disguise, and will direct you to friends
who will pass you on until you can escape.'
_"'Can you give me disguises for two?' I asked. 'I
will not go without my captain.'
: "'Yes,' she said, 'for two, but no more.'
"'I will steal away after dark,' I said as I gave her back
Sthe jug.
"I told Leslie what had happened, and he agreed to join
-me in time to escape, for there wa no saying what fate
.-might befall us in London; and, indeed, the very next
:- morning severities commenced, the whole of the troops
being obliged to suffer the indignity of having their arms
tied behind them, and so being marched into London.
"After it was dark Leslie and I managed to steal away
'from our guards, who were not very watchful, for.our
uniform would at once have betrayed us, and the country
People would have seized and handed us over. The woman
was on the watch, and as soon as we neared the door she
opened it. Her husband was with her and received us


kindly. He at once furnished us with the attire of two
countrymen, and, letting us out by a back way, started
with us across the country.
"After walking twenty miles he brought us to the house
of another adherent of the chevalier, where we remained,
all day. So we were passed on until we reached the coast,
where we lay hid for some days until at arrangement was
made with the captain of a fishing-boat to take us to sea,
and either to land us at Calais or to put us on board a
French fishing-boat. So we got over without trouble.
"Long before that, as you know, the business had virtu- :
ally come to an end here. The Earl of Mar's army lay
week after week at Perth, till at last it met the enemy
under Argyle at Sheriffmuir.
"You know how that went. The Highland clans in
the right and center carried all before them, and drove the
enemy from the field, but on the left they beat u? oadly.
So both parties claimed the victory. But, victory or de-
feat, it was fatal to the cause of the chevalier. Half the
Highland clans went off to their homes that night, and
Mar had to fall back to Perth.
"Well, that was really the end of it. The chevalier
landed, and for awhile our hopes rose. He did nothing,
and our hopes fell. At last he took ship and went away, ;
and the affair was over, except for the hangings and.'
"Leslie, like most of the Scottish gentlemen who suc-
ceeded in reaching France, took service with the French
king, and, of course, I did the same. It would have done
your heart good to see how the Scottish regiments fought. .
on many a field; the very best troops of France were never
before us, and many a tough field was decided by our-
charge. Leslie was a cornet. He was about my age; and
you know I was but twenty when Sheriffinir was fought.
.iH ros. to be a colonel, and would have given me a pair


: of colors over and over again if I would have taken them;
"but I felt more comfortable among our troopers than I
should have done among the officers, who were almost all
men of good Highland family; so I remained Leslie's
- right hand.
"A braver soldier never swung a leg over saddle; but
She was always in some love affair or another. Why he
didn't marry I couldn't make out. I suppose he could
never stick long enough to one woman. However, some
four years ago he got into an affair more serious than any
he had been in before, and this time he stuck to it in Tight
earnest. Of course she was precisely one of the women he
oughtn't to have fallen in love with, though I for one
couldn't blame, him, for a prettier creature was not to be
found in France. Unfortunately she was the only daugh-
ter of the Marquis de Recambours, one of the wealthiest
and most powerful of French nobles, and there was no
more chance of his giving his consent to her throwing her-
-self away upon a Scottish soldier of fortune than to her
going into a nunnery; less, in fact. However, she was as
much in love with Leslie as he was with her, and so they
got secretly married. Two years ago this child was born,
but she managed somehow to keep it from her father, who
was all this time urging her to marry the Duke de Cha-
: At last, as ill luck would have it, he shut her up in a
convent just a week before she had arranged to fly with
Leslie to Germany, where he intended to take service until
her father came round. Leslie would have, got her out
somehow; but his regiment was ordered to -the,frontier,
and it wag eighteen months before we returned to Paris,
S where,the child had been in keeping with some people
with whom he had placed it. The very evening of his re-
turn'I was cleaning his arms when he rushed into the


"'All is discovered,' he said; 'here is my signet-ring, ::
go at once and get the child, and make your way with it
to Scotland; take all the money in the escritoire, quick!'
"I heard feet approaching, and dashed to the bureau,
and transferred the bag of louis there to my pocket. An
official with two followers entered.
"'Colonel Leslie,' he said, 'it is my duty to arrest you -
by order of his gracious majesty;' and he held out an
order signed by the king.
"'I am unconscious of having done any wrong, sir, to :
his majesty, whom I have served for the last sixteen years.
However it is not for me to dispute his orders;' thereupon
he unbuckled his sword and handed it to the officers.; '
'You will look after the things till I return, Malcolm. .
As I am sure I can clear myself of any charge that
may be- brought against me, I trust to he speedily back
"'Your trooper need not trouble himself,' the officer
said; 'the official with me will take charge of everything,
S and will at once affix my seal to all your effects.'
"I went downstairs and saw the colonel enter a carriage
with the two officials, then I went straight to the major.
'Colonel Leslie has been arrested, sir, on what charge-.I
know not. He has intrusted a commission to me. There-
fore, if you find I am absent from parade in the morning
you will understand I am carrying out his orders.'
"The major was thunderstruck at the news, but told'-,::`
me to do as the colonel had ordered me, whatever it might- I
be. I mounted the colonel's horse at once and rode to the--:-
house where the child was in keeping. The people kn-ew .
me well, as I had often been there with messages from the -
colonel. When I showed them the signet-ring, and told
them that I had orders to take the child to his father, they i
made no opposition. I said I would return for him as:.
soon as it was dusk. I then went and purchased a suit of


civilian clothes, and returning to the house attired myself
in these, and taking the child on the saddle before me,
rode for the frontier.
Following -unfrequented roads, traveling only at night,
,-and passing a day in a wood, I passed the frontier unmo-
lested, and made my way to Ostend, where I sold the horse
- and took passage in the first ship sailing for Leith. I ar-
rived there two days ago, and have walked here, with an'
occasional lift in a cart; and here I am, brother Andrew,
to ask you for hospitality for awhile for myself and Leslie's
boy. I have a hundred louis, but these, of course, belong
Sto the child. As for myself, I confess I have nothing;
saving has never been in my line."
-."You are heartily welcome, Malcolm, as long as you
S.choose to stop; but I trust that ere long you will hear of
Colonel Leslie."
S- "I trust so," Malcolm said; "but if you knew the court
:--of France as well as I do you would not feel very sanguine
about it. It is easier to get into a prison than out of one."
". But the colonel has committed no crime!" the bailie
"His chance would be a great deal better if he had,"
Malcolm laughed. "A colonel of one of his majesty's
Scottish regiments can do a good deal in the way of crime
w' without much harm befalling him; but when it comes to
marrying the daughter of a nobleman who is a great per-
Ssohage at court, without his consent, it is a different affair
altogether, I can tell you. Leslie has powerful friends,
and his brother officers will do what they can for him; but
I can tell you services at the court of France go for very
little. Influence is everything, and as the nobleman the
marquis.intended to be the husband of his daughter is also
a great personage at court and a friend of Louis', there is
no saying hlow serious a matter they may make of it. Men -
have been kept prisoners for life for a far less serious busi-
ness than this."


"But supposing he is released, does he know where to
communicate with you?"
"I am afraid he doesn't," Malcolm said ruefully. "He
knows that I come from Glasgow, but that is all. Still,
when he is freed, no doubt he will come over himself to
look for his son, and I am sure to hear of his being here."
"You might do, and you might not," the bailie said.
"Still, we must hope for the best, Malcolm. At any rate
I am in no haste for the colonel to come. Now I have
got you home again after all these years, I do not wish to
lose you again in a hurry."
Malcolm only remained for a few weeks at his brother's
house. The restraint of life at the bailie's was too much
for him. Andrew's was a.well-ordered household. The
bailie was methodical and regular, a leading figure in the
kirk, far stricter than were most men of his time as to
undue consumption of liquor, strong in exhortation in
season and out of season. His wife was kindly but precise,
and as outspoken as Andrew himself. For the first day or
two the real affection which Andrew had for his younger
brother, and the pleasure he felt at his return, shielded
Malcolm from comment or rebuke; but after the very first
day the bailie's wife had declared to herself that it was
impossible that Malcolm could long remain an inmate of
the house. She was not inhospitable, and would have
made great sacrifices in some directions for the long-missing
brother of her husband; but his conduct outraged all the
Best feelings of a good Scotch housewife.
S Even on that first day he did not come punctually to
his meals. He was away about the town looking np old
acquaintance, came in at dinner and again at supper after-
the meal had already been begun, and dropped into his
Place and began to eat without saying a word of grace. He
stamped about the house as if he had cavalry spurs still on
S his heels; talked in a voice that could be heard from attic


to basemeut; used French and Flemish oaths which horri-
fied-the good lady, although she did not understand them;
smoked at all hours of the day, whereas Andrew always
confined himself to his after-supper pipe, and, in- spite of
his assertions on the previous evening, consumed an amount
of liquor which horrified the good woman.
"At his meals he talked loudly, kept the two apprentices
in a titter with his stories of campaigning, spoke slightingly.
of the city authorities, and joked the bailie with a freedom
and. roughness which scandalized, her. Andrew was slow-
to notice the incongruity of his brother's demeanor- and
bearing with the atmosphere of the house, although he-
soon.became dimly conscious that there was a jarring ele-.
ment in the air. At the end of a week Malcolm broached
the subject to him.
"Andrew," he said, "you are a good fellow, though you
are a bailie and an elder of the kirk, and I thank you for
the hearty welcome you have given me, and for your invi-
tation to stay for a long time with you; but it will not do.
Janet is a good woman and a kindly, but I can see that I
keep: her perpetually on thorns. In good truth, fifteen
years of campaigning are but an indifferent preparation for
a.man.as an inmate of a respectable household. I did not
quite know myself how thoroughly I had become a devil-
may-care trooper until I came back to my old life here.
The ways of your house would soon be as intolerable to
me as my ways are to your good wife, and therefore it is
better by far that before any words have passed between
you and me, and while we are-as good friends as on the
evening when I returned, I should get out of this. I met
an old friend to-day, one of the lads who went with me
from Glasgow to join the Earl of Mar at Perth. He is.
well-to-do now, and trades in cattle, taking them in droves.
down into England. For the sake of old times he has:
offered..me employment, and methinks it will suit me as!.
well-as any other."


'"But you cannot surely be going as a drover, Malcolm !
"-. Why not? The life is as good as any other. I could
not sit down, after all these years of roving, to an indoor'
Life. I must either do that or cross the water again and
Stake service abroad. I am only six-and-thirty yet, and am
good for another fifteen years of soldiering, and right gladly
-; would I go back if Leslie were again at the head of his
regiment, but I have been spoiled by him. He ever treated
me-as a companion and as a friend rather than as a trooper
in his regiment,.and 1 should miss him sorely did I enter
any other service. Then, too, I would fain be here to be
-: ready to join him again if h\ sends for me or comes, and I
should wish to. keep an eye always on his boy. You will
continue to take charge of him, won't you, Andrew? He
is still a little strange, but he takes to Elspeth, and will
give little trouble when he once learns the language."
". I don't like it at all, Malcolm," the bailie said.
"No, Andrew, but you must feel it is best. I doubt
S not that ere this your wife has told you her troubles con-
Scerning me."
S As the bailie on the preceding night had listened to a
long string of complaints and remonstrances on the part -
of his wife as to his brother's general conduct he could, not
deny the truth of Malcolm's supposition.
S "Just so, Andrew," Malcolm went on; "I knew that it
must be so. Mistress Janet has kept her lips closed firm-
to me, but I could see how difficult it was for her some-
times to do so. It could not be otherwise. I am as much.
out of place here as a wolf in a sheepfold. As to the -
"- driving, I shall not mention to all I meet- that I am:
:brother to one of the bailies of Glasgow. I shall like the
life. The rough pony I shall ride will differ in his paces
from my old charger, but at least it will be life in the
saddle. I shall be earning an honest living; if I take-
.. more than is good for me I may get a broken head andi


none be the wiser, whereas if I remain here and fall foul
of the city watch it would be grief and pain for you."
The bailie was silenced. He had already begun to per-
ceive that'Malcolm's ways and manners were incompatible
with the peace and quiet of a respectable household, and
that Janet's complaints were not altogether unreasonable.
-He had seen many of his acquaintances lift their eyebrows
. in disapprobation at the roystering talk of his brother,
and had foreseen that it was probable trouble would come.
At the same time he felt a repugnance to the thought that
after so many years of absence his brother should so soon
quit his house. It seemed a reflection alike on his affec-
tion and hospitality.
"You will take charge of the child, won't you?" Mal-
colm pleaded. "There is the purse of a hundred louis,
which will, I should say, pay for any expense to which he
may put you for some years."
"As if I would take the bairn's money!" Andrew ex-
-claimed angrily, "what do. you take me for, Malcolm?
Assuredly I will take the child. Janet and I have no
b' airn.of our own, and it's good for a house to have a child
in it. I look upon it as if it were yours, for it is like
enough you will never hear of its father again. It will
have a hearty welcome. It is a bright little fellow, and
in time I doubt not that Janet will take greatly to it. The
charge of a child is a serious matter, and we cannot hope
that we shall not have trouble with it, but there is trouble
in all things. At any rate, Malcolm, we will do our best,
and if at the end of a year I-find that Janet has not taken
to it we will see about some other arrangement. And,
Malcolm, I do trust that you will stay with us for another
week or two. It would seem to me as if I had turned you
out of my house were you to leave me so soon."
So Malcolm made a three-weeks' stay at his brother's,
and then started upon his new occupation of driving


Highland cattle down into Lancashire. Once every two
or three months he came to Glasgow for a week or two:
between his trips. In spite of Andrew's entreaties he re-
fused on these occasions to take up his abode with him,
but took a lodging not far off, coming in in the evening
for an hour to smoke a pipe with. his brother, and never
failing of a morning to come in and take the child for a
long walk with him, carrying him upon his shoulder, and
keeping up a steady talk with him in -his native French,
which he was anxious that the boy should not forget, as at
some time or other he might again return to France.
Some weeks after Malcolm's return to Scotland, he
wrote to Colonel Leslie, briefly giving his address at Glas-
gow;. but making no allusion to the child, as, if the colonel
were still in prison, the letter would be sure to be opened
by the authorities. He also wrote to the major, giving
him his address, and begging him to communicate it to-
Colonel Leslie whenever he should see him; that done,
there was nothing for it but to wait quietly. The post
was so uncertain in those days that he had but slight hope
that either of his letters would ever reach their destina-
tion. It was, however, the only means he had to adopt.
No answer came to either of his letters.
Four years later Malcolm went over to Paris, and cau-
tiously made inquiries; but no one had heard anything of
Colonel Leslie from the day he had been arrested. The
regiment was away fighting in the Low Countries, and the
only thing Malcolm could do was to call upon the people ,
who had had charge of the child, to give them his address:
in case the colonel should ever appear to inquire of them.-
He found, however, the house tenanted by other people
He learned that the last occupants had left years beforer-
The neighbors remembered that one morning early somni-
officers of the law had come to the house, and 'the:man
had been seized and carried away. He had been releaseii'


onme months later, only to find that his wife had died of
grief and anxiety, and he had then sold off his goods and
gone no one knew whither. Malcolm, therefore, returned
to Glasgow, with the feeling that he had gained nothing'
by his journey.




So TWELVE years passed. Ronald Leslie grew up a sturdy
: lad, full of fun and mischief in.spite of the sober atmos-
Sphere of the bailie's house; and neither flogging at school
Snor lecturing at home appeared to have the slightest effect
S in reducing him to that state of sober tranquillity which
was in Mrs. Anderson's eyes the thing to be most desired
in boys. Andrew was less deeply shocked than his wife at
Sthe discovery of Ronald's various delinquencies, but his
i sense of order and punctuality was constantly outraged.
He was, however, really fond of the lad; and even Mrs.
:.-Anderson, greatly as the boy's ways constantly disturbed
: and ruffled her, was at heart as fond of him as was her
husband. She considered, and not altogether wrongly,
that his wildness, as she called it, was in no slight degree
due to his association with her husband's brother.
R:onald looked forward to the periodical visits of the
drover with intense longing. He was sure of a sympa-
thetic listener in Malcolm, who listened with approval to
S the tales of the various scrapes into which he had got since
his last visit; of how, instead of going to school, he had
played truant and with another boy his own age had em-
--barked in a fisherman's boat and gone down the river and
Shad not been able to get back until-next day; how he had
played tricks upon his dominie and had conquered in single
-combat the son of Councillor Duff, the butcher, who had

-.. -.


spoken scoffing words at the Stuarts. Malcolm was, in
fact, delighted to find that in spite of repression and lec-
tures his young charge was growing up a- lad of spirit. -He.
still hoped, that some day Leslie might return, and he
knew how horrified he would be were he to find that his
son was becoming a smug and well-conducted citizen. No -:
small portion of his time on each of his visits to Glasgow
Malcolm spent in training the boy in the use of arms.
"Your father was a gentleman," he would say to him,
"and it is fitting that you should know how to handle a
gentleman's arms. Clubs are well enough for citizens'
apprentices, but I would have you handle rapier and:
broadsword as well as any of the young lairds. When you
get old enough, Ronald, you and I will cross the seas,-and
together we will try and get to the bottom of the mystery
of your father's fate, and if we find that the worst has
come to the worst, we will seek out your mother. She
will most likely have married again. They will be sure to
have forced her into it; but even if she dare not acknowl-
edge you as her son, her influence may obtain for you a
commission in 'one of the king's regiments, and even if
they think I'm too old for a trooper I will go as your fol-
lower. There are plenty of occasions at the court of
.France when a sharp sword and a stout arm, even if it be
somewhat.stiffened by age, can do good service."
The lessons began as soon as Ronald was old enough to
hold a light blade, and as between the pauses of exercise
Malcolm was-always ready to tell stories of his adventures
in the wars of France, the days were full of delight to
Ronald. When the latter reached the age of fourteen
Malcolm was not satisfied with the amount of proficiency
which the lad was able to gain during his occasional visits,
and therefore took him for further instruction to a comr
rade.who had, like himself, served in France, and had -
returned and settled down in Glasgow, where he opened a .

- 4-..(. . .


fencing-school, having been a maitre d'armes among the
Scotch regiments.
The arrangement was, however, kept a profound secret
from Andrew and his wife; but on half-holidays, and on
any other days when he could manage to slip away for an
hour, Ronald went to his instructor and worked hard and
steadily with the rapier. Had Mrs. Anderson had an idea
of the manner in which he spent his time she would have
been horrified, and would certainly have spared her en-
comiums on his improved conduct and the absence of the
unsatisfactory reports which had before been so common.
The cloud of uncertainty which hung over his father's
fate could not but have an influence upon the boy's char-
acter, and the happy carelessness and gayety which were
its natural characteristics were modified by the thought
that his father might be languishing in a dungeon. Some-
times he would refuse to accompany his schoolfellows on
their rambles or fishing expeditions, and would sit for
hours thinking over all sorts of wild plans by which he
might penetrate to him and aid him to escape. He was
never tired of questioning Malcolm Anderson as to the
prisons in which, if still alive, his father would be likely
to be confined. He would ask as to their appearance, the
height of their walls, whether they were moated or not,
S aid whether other houses abutted closely upon them. One
day Malcolm asked him the reason of these questions, and
he replied, "Of course I want to seehow it will be possible
to get my father out." And although Malcolm tried to
impress upon him that it would be an almost impossible
'task even to discover in which prison his father was kept,
he would not allow himself to be discouraged.
There must be some way of finding out, Malcolm. You
tell me that prisoners are not even known by their name
to the warders, but only under a number. Still some one
must know-there must be lists kept of those in prison,


and I shall trust to my mother to find out for me. A
great lady as she is must be able to get at people if she sets
about it, and as certainly she must have loved my father
very much, or she never would have married him secretly,
and got into such trouble for it. I am sure she will do
her best when she finds that you and I have come over to
get him out. When we know that, I think we ought to
be able to manage. You could get employment as a
warder, or I could go disguised as a woman, or as a priest,
or somehow. I feel sure we shall succeed if we do but
find out that he is alive and where he is,"
Malcolm knew too much about the strong and well-
guarded prisons of France to share in the boy's sanguine
hopes, but he did not try to discourage him. He thought
that with such an object in life before him the boy would
devote himself all the more eagerly to exercises which
would strengthen his arm, increase his skill with weapons,
and render him a brave and gallant officer, and in this he
was right. As the time went on Ronald became more and
more serious. He took no part whatever in the schoolboy
games and frolics in which he had been once a leader. He
worked hard at his school tasks the sooner to be done with
them, and above all devoted himself to acquiring a mastery
of the sword with a perseverance and enthusiasm which
quite surprised his instructor.
"I tell you, Malcolm, man," he said one day to his old
comrade, after Ronald had been for upward of two years
his pupil, "if I had known, when you first asked me to
teach the lad to handle a sword, how much of my time he
was going to occupy, I should have laughed in your face,
for ten times the sum you agreed to pay me would not
have been enough; but, having begun it for your sake, I
have gone on for the lad's. It has been a pleasure to teach
him, so eager was lie to learn-so ready to work heart and
9oul to improve. The boy's wrist is as strong as mine and


his eye as quick. I have long since taught him all I know,
and it is practice now, and not teaching, that we have
every day. I tell you I have hard work to hold my own
with him; he knows every trick and turn as well as I do,
and is quicker with his lunge and reposte. Were it not
that I have my extra length of arm in my favor Icould not
hold my own. As you know, I have many of the officers
-of the garrison among my pupils, and some of them have
learned in good schools, but there is not one of them could
defend himself for a minute against that boy. If it were
not that the matter has to be kept secret I would set him
in front of some of them, and you would see what short
work he would make of them. Have you heard the ru-
mors, Malcolm, that the young chevalier is likely to follow
the example of his father, thirty years back, and to make
a landing in Scotland?"
"I have heard some such rumors," Malcolm replied,
" though whether there be aught in them I know not. I
hope that if he does so he will at any rate follow the ex-
ample of his father no further. As you know, I hold to
the Stuarts, but I must own they are but poor hands at
fighting. Charles the First ruined his cause; James the
Second threw away the crown of Ireland by galloping away
from the battle of the Boyne; the chevalier showed here
in '15 that he was no leader of men; and unless this lad is
made of very different stuff to his forefathers he had best
stay in France."
"But if he should come, Malcolm, I suppose you will
join him? I am afraid I shall be fool enough to do so,
even- with my fifty years on my head. And you?"
"I suppose I shall be a fool too," Malcolm said. "The
Stuarts are Scotch, you see, and with all their faults I
would rather a thousand times have a Scottish king than
these Germans who govern us from London. If the Eng-
lish like them let them keep them, and let us have a king



of our own. However, naught may come of it; it may be
-but a rumor. It is a card which Louis has threatened to
play a score of times, whenever he wishes to annoy Eng-
land. It is more than likely that it will come to naught,
as it has so often done before."
"But they tell me that there are agents traveling about
among the Highland clans, and that this time something
is really to be done."
"They have said so over and over again, and nothing
has come of it. For my part, I don't care which way it
goes. After the muddle that was made of it thirty years,
ago it does not seem to me more likely that we shall get;
- rid of the Hanoverians now. Besides, the hangings and
slaughterings then, would, I should think, make the nobles
and the heads of clans think twice ere they risked every-
thing again."
"That is true, but when men's blood is up they do not
count the cost; besides, the Highland clans are always
ready to fight. If Prince Charles comes you will see there
will not be much hanging back whatever the consequences
may be. Well, you and I have not much to lose, except
our lives."
"That is true enough, old friend; and I would rather
die that way than any other. Still, to tell you the truth,
I would rather keep my head on my shoulders for a few
years if I can."
"Well, nothing may come of it; but if it does I shall
strike a blow again for the old cause."
At home Ronald heard nothing but expressions of loy-
alty to the crown. The mere fact that the Highlanders
espoused the cause of the Stuarts was sufficient in itself to
make the Lowlanders take the opposite side. The religious
feeling, which had always counted for so much in the
Lowlands, and had caused Scotland to side with the Par-
liament against King Charles, had not lost its force. The


leanings of the Stuarts were, it was known, still strongly
in favor of the Catholic religion, and although Prince
Charles Edward was reported to be more Protestant in
feelings than the rest of his race, this was not sufficient to
counterbalance the effect of the hereditary Catholic ten-
dency. Otherwise there was no feeling of active loyalty
toward the reigning king in Scotland. The first and sec-
ond Georges had none of the attributes which attract loyal
affection. The first could with difficulty speak the lan-
guage of the people over whom he ruled. Their feelings
and sympathies were Hanoverian rather than English, and
all court favors were bestowed as far as possible upon their
countrymen. They had neither the bearing nor manner
which men associate with royalty, nor the graces and power
of attraction which distinguished the Stuarts. Common-
place and homely in manner, in figure, and in bearing,
they were not men whom their fellows could look up to or
respect; their very vices were coarse, and the Hanoverian
men and women they gathered round them were hated by
the English people.
Thus neither in England nor Scotland was there any
warm feeling of loyalty for the reigning house; and though
it was possible that but few would adventure life and prop-
erty in the cause of the Stuarts, it was equally certain that
outside the army there were still fewer who would draw
sword for the Hanoverian king. Among the people of
the Lowland cities of Scotland the loyalty which existed
was religious rather than civil, and rested upon the fact
that their forefathers had fought against the Stuarts, while
the Highlanders had always supported their cause. Thus,
although in the household and in kirk Ronald had heard
King George prayed for regularly, he had heard no-word
concerning him calculated to waken a boyish feeling of
loyalty, still less of enthusiasm. Upon the other hand he
knew that his father had fought and suffered for the Stu-


arts and was an exile in their cause, and that the Hano-
verians had handed over the estate of which he himself
would now be the heir to one of their adherents.
"It is no use talking of these matters to Andrew," Mal-
colm impressed upon him; "it would do no good. When
he was a young man he took the side of the Hanoverians,
and he won't change now; while, did Mistress Janet guess
that your heart was with the Stuarts, she would say that
I was ruining you, and should bring you to a gallows. She
is not fond of me now, though she does her best to be civil
to her husband's brother; but did she know that you had
become a Jacobite, like enough she would move Andrew
to put a stop to your being with me, and there would be
all sorts of trouble."
"But they could not prevent my being with you," Ron-
ald said indignantly. "My father gave me into your
charge, not into theirs."
"That's true enough, laddie; but it is they who have
cared for you and brought you up. When you are a man
you can no doubt go which way it pleases you; but till
then you owe your duty and respect to them, and not to
me, who have done naught for you but just carry you over
here in my cloak."
"I know they have done everything for me," Ronald
said penitently. "They have been very good and kind,
and I love them both; but for all that it is only natural
that my father should be first, and that my heart should
be in the cause that he fought for."
"That is right enough, Ronald, and I would not have it
otherwise, and I have striven to do my best to make you
as he would like to see you. Did he never come back
again I should be sorry indeed to see Colonel Leslie's son
growing up a Glasgow tradesman, as my brother no doubt
intends you to be, for I know he has long since given up any
thought of'hearing from your father; but in that you and


I will have a say when the time comes. Until then you
must treat Andrew as your natural guardian, and there is
no need to anger him by letting him know that your heart
is with the king over the water, any more than that you
can wield a sword like a gentleman. Let us have peace
as long as we can. You are getting on for sixteen now;
another two years and we will think about going to Paris
together. I am off again to-morrow, Ronald; it will not
be a long trip this time, but maybe before I get back we
shall have news from France which will set the land on
A short time after this conversation, as Ronald on his
return from college (for he was now entered at the uni-
versity) passed through the shop, the bailie was in conver-
sation with one of the city magistrates, and Ronald caught
the words:
"He is somewhere in the city. He came down from the
Highlands, where he has been going to and fro, two days
since. I have a warrant out against him, and the consta-
bles are on the lookout. I hope to have him in jail before
to-night. These pestilent rogues are a curse to the land,
though I cannot think the clans would be fools enough to
rise again, even though Charles Stuart did come."
Ronald went straight up to his room, and for a few
minutes sat in thought. The man of whom they spoke
was doubtless an emissary of Prince Charles, and his arrest
might have serious consequences, perhaps bring ruin on
all with whom he had been in communication. Who he
was or what he was like Ronald knew not; but he deter-
mined at any rate to endeavor to defeat the intentions of
.the magistrate to lay hands on him. Accordingly a few
minutes later, while the magistrate was still talking with
Andrew, he again went out.
Ronald waited about outside the door till he left, and
then followed him at a short distance. The magistrate


spoke to several acquaintances on the way, and then went
to the council chamber. Waiting outside, Ronald saw
two or three of the magistrates enter. An hour later the
magistrate he was watching came out; but he had gone
but a few paces when a man hurrying up approached him.
They talked earnestly for a minute or two. The magis-
trate then re-entered the building, remained there a few
minutes, and then joined the man who was waiting out-
side. Ronald had stolen up and taken his stand close by.
"It is all arranged," the magistrate said; "as soon as
night has fallen a party will go down, surround the house,
and arrest him. It is better not to do it in daylight. I
shall lead the party, which will come round to my house,
so if the men you have left on watch bring you news that
he has changed his hiding-place, let me know at once."
The magistrate walked on. Ronald stood irresolute.
He had obtained no clew as to the residence of the person
of whom they were in search, and after a moment's thought
he determined to keep an eye upon the constable, who
would most likely join his comrade on the watch. This,
however, he did not do immediately. He had probably
been for, some time at work, and now took the opportunity
of going home for a meal, for he at once made his way to
a quiet part of the city, and entered a small house.
It was half an hour before he came out again, and
Ronald fidgeted with impatience, for it was already grow-
ing dusk. When he issued out Ronald saw that he was
armed with a heavy cudgel. He walked quickly now, and
Ronald, following at a distance, passed nearly across the
town, and down a quiet street which terminated against
the old wall running from the Castle Port to small tower.
When he got near the bottom of the street a man came
out from an archway, and the two spoke together. From
their gestures Ronald felt sure that it was the last house
on the left-hand side of the street that was being watched.


He had not ventured to follow far down the street, for as
there was no thoroughfare he would at once be regarded
with suspicion. The question now was how to warn the man
of his danger. He knew several men were on the watch,
and as only one was in the street, doubtless the others
were behind the house. If anything was to be done there
was no time to be lost, for the darkness was fast closing in.
After a minute's thought he went quickly up the street
and then started at a run, and then came down upon a
place where he could ascend the wall, which was at many
points in bad repair. With some difficulty he climbed up,
and found that he was exactly opposite the house he
wished to reach. It wqs dark now. Even in the 'princi-
pal streets the town was only lit by oil lamps here and
there, and there was no attempt at illumination in the
quiet quarters, persons who went abroad after nightfall
always carrying a lantern with them. There was still
sufficient light to show Ronald that the house stood at a
distance of some fourteen feet from the wall. The roof
sloped too steeply for him to maintain his holding upon it;
but halfway along the house was a dormer-window about
three feet above the gutter. It was unglazed, and doubt-
less gave light to a granary or storeroom.
Ronald saw that his only chance was to alight on the
roof close enough to this window to be able to grasp the
woodwork. At any other moment he would have hesitated
before attempting such a leap. The wall was only a few
feet wide, and he could therefore get but little run for a
spring. His blood was, however, up, and having taken
his resolution he did not hesitate. Drawing back as far as
he could he took three steps, and then sprang for the win-
dow. Its sill was some three feet higher than the edge of
the wall from which he sprang.
The leap was successful; his feet struck just upon the
gutter, and the impetus threw forward his body, and bis


hands grasped the woodwork of the window. In a moment
he had dragged himself inside. It was quite dark within
the room. He moved carefully, for the floor was piled
with disused furniture, boxes, sacking, and rubbish. He
was some time finding the door, but although he moved
as carefully as he could he knocked over a heavy chest'
which was placed on a rickety chair, the two falling with
a crash on the floor. At last he found the door and opened
it. As he did so a light met his eyes, and he saw
ascending the staircase a man with a drawn sword, and.a
woman holding a light above her head following closely.
The man uttered an exclamation on seeing Ronald appear.
"A thief!" he said. "Surrender, or I will.run you
through at once."
"I am no thief," Ronald replied. "My name is Ronald
Leslie, and I am a student at the university. I have come
here to warn some one whom I know not, in this house,
thatit is watched, and that in a few minutes at the out-
side a band of the city watch will be here to capture him."
The man dropped the point of his sword, and taking
the light from the woman held it closer to Ronald's face.
"How came you here?" he asked. "How did you learn
this news?"
"The house is watched both sides below," Ronald said,
"and I leaped from the wall through the dormer-window.-
I heard a magistrate arranging with one of the constables
for a capture, and gathered that he of whom they were in
search was a Jacobite, and as I come of a stock which has
always been faithful to the Stuarts, I hastened to warn
The woman uttered a cry of alarm.
"I thank you with all my heart, young sir. I am be
for whom they are in search, and if I get free you will
render a service indeed to our cause; but there is no time
to talk now, if what you tell me be true. You say the
house is watched from both sides?"


"Yes; there are two men in the lane below, one or
more, I khow not how many, behind."
"There is no escape behind," the man said; "the walls
are high, and other houses abut upon them. I will sally
out and fight through the men in front."
"I can handle the sword," Ronald put in; "and if you
will provide me with a weapon I will do my best by your
"You are a brave lad," the man said, "and I accept
your aid."
He led the way downstairs and entered a room, took
down a sword from over the fireplace, and gave it to
As he took it in his hand there was a loud knocking at
the door.
"Too late!" the man exclaimed. "Quick, the light,
Mary! at any rate I must burn my papers."
He drew some letters from his pocket, lit them at the
lamp, and threw them on the hearth; then opening a cab-
inet he drew forth a number of other papers adr crumpling
them up added them to the blaze'
"Thank God that is safe!" he said, "the worst evil is
"Can you not escape by the way by which I came
hither?" Ronald said. "The distance is too great to leap;
but if you have got a plank, or can pull up a board from
the floor, you could put it across to the wall and make
your escape that way. I will try to hold the stairs till you
are away."
"I will try at least," the man said. "Mary, bring the
light, and aid me while our brave friend does his best to
give us time."
So saying he sprang upstairs, while Ronald made his
way down to the door.
"Who is making such a noise at the door of a quiet
house at this time of night?" he shouted.


"Open in the king's name," was the reply; "we have a
warrant to arrest one who is concealed here."
"There is no one concealed here," Ronald replied, "and
I doubt that you are, as you say, officers of the peace; but
if so, pass your warrant through the grille, and if it be
signed and in due form will open to you."
"I will show my warrant when needs be," the voice an-
swered. "Once more, open the door or we will break
it in."
"Do it at your peril," Ronald replied. "How can I tell
you are not thieves who seek to ransack the house, and
that your warrant is a pretense. I warn you that the first
who enters I will run him through the body."
The reply was a shower of blows on the door, and a
similar attack was begun by a party behind the house.
The door was strong, and after a minute or two the ham-
mering ceased, and then there was a creaking, straining
noise, and Ronald knew they were applying a crowbar to
force it open. He retreated to a landing halfway up the
stairs, placed a lamp behind him so that it would-show its
light full on the faces of those ascending the stairs, and
waited. A minute later there was a crash; the lock had
yielded, but the bar still held the door in its place. Then
the blows redoubled, mingled with the crashing of wood;
then there was the sound of a heavy fall, and a body of
.men burst in.
There was a rush at the stairs but the foremost halted
at the sight of Ronald with his drawn sword.
"Keep back," he shouted, "or beware! The watch will
be here in a few minutes, and then you will all be laid by
.the heels."
"Fool! we are the watch," one of the men exclaimed,
and, dashing up the stairs, aimed a blow at Ronald. He
!guarded it and ran the man through the shoulder. He
dropped his sword and fell back with a curse.


At this moment the woman ran downstairs from ab6ve
and nodded to Ronald to signify that the fugitive had
"You see I hold to my word," Ronald said in a loud
voice. "If ye be the watch, which I doubt, show me the
warrant, or if ye have one in authority with you let him
proclaim himself."
"Here is the warrant, and here am I, Janies M'Whirtle,
a magistrate of this city."
"Why did you not say so before?" Ronald exclaimed,
lowering his sword. "If it be truly the worshipful Mr.
M'Whirtle let him show himself, for surely I know him
well, having seen him often in the house of my guardian,
Bailie Anderson."
Mr. M'Whirtle, who had been keeping well in the rear,
now came forward.
"It is himself," Ronald said. "Why did you not say
you were here at once, Mr. M'Whirtle, instead of setting
your men to break down the door, as if they were High-
land caterans on a foray?"
"We bade you open in the king's name," the magistrate
said, "and you withstood us, and it will be a hanging
matter for you, for you have aided the king's enemies."
"The king's enemies!" Ronald said in a tone of surprise.
"How can there be any enemies of the king here, seeing
there are only myself and the good woman upstairs? You
will find no others."
"Search the house," the magistrate said furiously, "and
take this malapert lad into custody on the charge of assist-
ing the king's enemies, of impeding the course of justice,
of withstanding by force of arms the issue of a lawful writ,
and with grievously wounding one of the city watch."
Ronald laughed.
"It is a grievous list, worshipful sir; but mark you, as
soon as you showed your warrant and declared yourself I


gave way to you. I only resisted so long as it seemed to
me you were evildoers breaking into a peaceful house."
Two of the watch remained as guard over Ronald; one
of the others searched the house from top to bottom. No
signs of the fugitive were discovered.
"He must be here somewhere," the magistrate said,
"since he was seen to enter, and the house has been closely
watched ever since. See, there are a pile of ashes on the
hearth as if papers had been recently burned. Sound the
floors and the walls."
The-investigation was particularly sharp in the attic,
for a board was here found to be loose, and there were
signs of its being recently wrenched out of its place, but
as the room below was unceiled this discovery led to noth-
ing. At last the magistrate was convinced that the fugi-
tive was not concealed in the house, and, after placing his
seals on the doors of all the rooms and leaving four men
in charge, he left the place, Ronald, under the charge of
four men, accompanying him.
On the arrival at the city tolbooth Ronald was thrust
into a cell and there left until morning. He was then
brought before Mr. M'Whirtle and two other of the city
magistrates. Andrew Anderson was in attendance, having
been notified the night before of what had befallen Ronald.
The bailie and his wife had at first been unable to credit
the news, and were convinced that some mistake had been
made. Andrew had tried to obtain his release on his
promise to bring him up in the morning, but Mr.
M'Whirtle and his colleagues, who had been hastily sum-
moned together, would not hear of it.
"It's a case of treason, man. Treason against his gra-
cious majesty; aiding and abetting one of the king's ene-
mies, to say naught of brawling and assaulting the city
The woman found in the house had also been brought


up, but no precise charge was made against her. The
court was crowded, for Andrew, in his wrath at being un-
able to obtain Ronald's release, had not been backward in
publishing his grievance, and many of his neighbors were
present to hear this strange charge against Ronald Leslie.
The wounded constable and another, first gave their
"I myself can confirm what has been said," Mr.
M'Wliirtle remarked, "seeing that I was present with the
watch to see to the arrest of a person against whom a war-
rant had been issued."
"Who is that person?" Ronald asked. "Seeing that I
am charged with aiding and abetting his escape it seems to
me that I have a right to know who he is."
The magistrates looked astounded at the effrontery of
the question, but after a moment's consultation together
Mr. M'Whirtle said that in the interest of justice it was
unadvisable at the present moment to state the name of
the person concerned.
".What have you to say, prisoner, to the charge made
against you? In consideration of our good friend Bailie
Anderson, known to be a worthy citizen and loyal subject
of his majesty, we would be glad to hear what you have to
say aneit this charge."
"I have nothing to say," Ronald replied quietly. "Be-
ing in the house when it was attacked, with as much noise
as if a band of border ruffians were at the gate, I stood on
the defense. I demanded to see what warrant they had
for forcing an entry, and as they would show me none, I
did my best to protect the house; but the moment Mr.
M'Whirtle proclaimed who he was I lowered my sword
and gave them passage."
There was a smile in the court at the boy's coolness.
"But how came ye there, young sir? How came ye to'
be in the house at all, if ye were there for a good motive?"



z v! : ; -, _


"That I decline to say," Ronald answered. "It seems
to me that any one may be in a house by the consent of
its owners, without having to give his reasons therefore "
"It will be the worse for you if you defy the court. I
ask you again how came you there?"
"I have no objection to tell you how I came there,"
Ronald said. "I was walking on the old wall, which, as
you know, runs close by the house, when I saw an ill-
looking loon hiding himself as if watching the house,
Looking behind I saw another ruffianly-looking man there."
Two gasps of indignation were heard from the porch at
the back of the court. "Thinking that there was mis-
chief on hand I leaped from the wall to the dormer-window
to warn the people of the house that there were ill-doers
who had designs upon the place, and then remained to see
what came of it. That is the simple fact."
There was an exclamation of incredulity from the
"If you doubt me," Ronald said, "you can send a man
to the wall. I felt my feet loosen a tile and it slid down
into the gutter."
One of the magistrates gave an order, and two of the
watch left the court.
"And who did you find in the house?"
"I found this good woman, and sorely frightened she
was when I told her what kind of folk were lurking
"And was there any one else there?"
"There was a man there," Ronald said quietly, "and he
seemed alarmed too."
"What became of him?"
"I cannot say for certain," Ronald replied; "but if you
ask my opinion I should say, that having no stomach for
meeting the people outside, he just went out the way I
came in, especially as I heard the worshipful magistrate
say that a board in the attic had been lifted."

' .. -7 .1 I 1 _1


The magistrates looked at each other in astonishment;
the mode of escape had not occurred to any, and the dis-
appearance of the fugitive was now explained.
"I never heard such a tale," one of the magistrates said
after a pause. "It passes belief that a lad, belonging to
the family of a worthy and respectable citizen, a bailie of
the city and one who stands well with his fellow townsmen,
should take a desperate leap from the wall through a win-
dow of a house where a traitor was in hiding, warn him
that the house was watched, and give him time to escape
while he defended the stairs. Such a tale, sure, was never
told in a court. What say you, bailie?"
"I can say naught," Andrew said. The boy is a good
boy and a quiet one; given to mischief like other boys of
his age, doubtless, but always amenable. What can have
possessed him to behave in such a wild manner I cannot
conceive, but it seems to me that it was but a boy's freak."
"It was no freak when he ran his sword through Peter
Muir's shoulder," Mr. M'Whirtle said. "Ye will allow
that, neighbor Anderson."
"The man must have run against the sword," the bailie
said, "seeing the boy scarce knows one end of a weapon
from another."
"You are wrong there, bailie," one of the constables
said; "for I have seen him many a time going into the
school of James Macklewain, and I have heard a comrade
say, who knows James,'that the lad can handle a sword
with the best of them."
"I will admit at once," Ronald said, "that I have gone
to Macklewain's school and learned fencing of him. My
father, Colonel Leslie of Glenlyon, was a gentleman, and
it was right that I should know how to wield a sword, and
James Macklewain, who had fought in the French wars
and knew my father, was good enough to teach me. I
may say that my guardian knew nothing of this,"


"No, indeed," Andrew said. "I never so much as
dreamed of it. If I had done so he and 1 would have
talked together to a purpose."
"Leslie of Glenlyon was concerned in the '15, was he
not?" Mr. M'Whirtle said; "and had to fly the country;
and his son seems to be treading in his steps, bailie. I
doubt ye have been nourishing a viper in your bosom."
At this moment the two constables returned, and re-
ported that certainly a tile was loose as the prisoner had
described, and there were scratches as if of the feet of some
one entering the window, but the leap was one that very
few men would undertake.
"Your story is so far confirmed, prisoner; but it does'
not seem to us that even had you seen two men watching
a house it would be reasonable that you would risk your-
neck in this way without cause. Clearly you have aided
and abetted a traitor to escape justice, and you will be re-
manded. I hope, before you are brought before us again,
you will make up your mind to make a clean breast of it,
and throw yourself on the king's mercy."
Ronald was accordingly led .back to the cell, the bailie
being too much overwhelmed with surprise at what he had
heard to.utter any remonstrance.




AFTER Ronald had been removed from the court the
woman was questioned. She asserted that her master was
away, and was, she believed, in France, and that in his
absence she often let lodgings to strangers. That two
days before, a man whom she knew not came and hired a
room for a few days. That on the evening before, hearing
a noise in the attic, she went up with him, and met Ronald
coming downstairs. That when Ronald said. there were
strange men outside the house, and when immediately
afterward there was a great knocking at the door, the man
drew his sword and ordered her to-come upstairs with him.
That he then made her assist him to pull up a plank, and
thrust it from the attic to the wall, and ordered her to
replace it when he had gone. She supposed he was a thief
flying from justice, but was afraid to refuse to do his
"And why did you not tell us all this, woman, when we
came in?" Mr. M'Whirtle asked sternly. "Had ye told
us we might have overtaken him."
"I was too much frightened," the woman answered.
"There were swords out and blood running, and men
using words contrary both to the law and Scripture. I
was frightened enough before, and I just put my apron over
my head and sat down till the hubbub was over. And
then as no one asked me any questions, and 1 feared I


might have done wrong in aiding a thief to escape, I just
held my tongue."
No cross-questioning could- elicit anything further from
the woman, who indeed seemed frightened almost out of
her senses, and the magistrate at last ordered her to return
to the house and remain there under the supervision of
the constable until again sent for.
Andrew Anderson returned home sorely disturbed in his
mind. Hitherto he had told none, even of his intimates,
that the boy living in his house was the son of Colonel
Leslie, but had spoken of him as the child of an old ac-
quaintance, who had left him to his care. The open an-
nouncement of Ronald that he was the son of one of the
leaders in the last rebellion, coming just as it did when
the air was thick with rumors of another rising, troubled
him greatly; and there was the fact that the boy had,
unknown to him, been learning fencing; and lastly this
interference, which had enabled a notorious emissary of
the Pretender to escape arrest.
"The boy's story may be true as far as it goes," he said
to his wife when relating to her the circumstances, "for I
have never known him to tell a lie; but I cannot think it
was all the truth. A boy does not take such a dreadful
leap as that, and risk breaking his neck, simply because
he sees two men near the house. He must somehow have
known that man was there, and went to give him warning.
Now I think of it, he passed through the shop when Peter
M'Whirtle was talking to me about it, though, indeed,
he did not know then where the loon was in hiding. The
boy went out soon afterward, and must somehow have
learned, if indeed he did not know before. Janet, I fear
that you and I have been like two blind owls with regard
to the boy, and I dread sorely that my brother Malcolm is
at the bottom of all this mischief."
S This Mrs. Anderson was ready enough to credit, but


she was too much bewildered and horrified to do more
than to shake her head and weep.
Will they cut off his head, Andrew?" she asked at last.
"No, there's no fear of that; but they may imprison
him for a bit, and perhaps give him a good flogging-the
young rascal. But there, don't fret over it, Janet. I
will do all I can for him. And in truth I think Malcolm
is more to blame than he is; and we have been to blame
too for letting the lad be so much with him, seeing that
we might be sure he would put all sorts of notions in the
boy's head."
"But what is to be done, Andrew? We cannot let the
poor lad remain in prison."
"We have no choice in the matter, Janet. In prison he
is, and in prison he has to remain until he is let out, and
I see no chance of that. If it had only been a brawl with
the watch it could have been got over easily enough; but
this is an affair of high treason-aiding and abetting the
king's enemies, and the rest of it. If it were in the old
times they would put the thumb-screws on him to find out
all he knew about it, for they will never believe he risked
his life making that fool's jump from the wall unless he
had been in the plot; and the fact that his father before
him was in arms for the Chevalier tells that way. I should
not be surprised if an order comes for him to be sent to
London to be examined by the king's councilors; but I
will go round now and ask the justices what they think of
the matter."
His tidings when he returned were not encouraging;
the general opinion of the magistrates being that Ronald
was certainly mixed up in the Jacobite plot, that the matter
was altogether too serious to be disposed of by them, being
of the nature of high treason, and that nothing could be
done until instructions were received from London. No
clew had been obtained as to the whereabouts of the man


-who had escaped, and it was thought probable that he had
at once dropped beyond the walls and made for the west.
Malcolm arrived ten. days later from a journey in Lan-
cashire, and there was a serious quarrel between him and
Andrew on his presenting himself at the house.
"It is not only that you led the lad into mischief, Mal-
colm, but that you taught him to do it behind my back."
"You may look at it in that way if you will, Andrew,
and it's natural enough from your point of view; but I
take no blame to myself. You treated the boy as if he
had been your own son, and I thank you with all my heart
for your kindness to him; but I could not forget that he
was the son of my old friend and colonel, Leslie of Glen-
lyon, and I do not blame myself that I have kept the same
alive in his mind also. It was my duty to see that the
young eagle was not turned into a barndoor fowl; but I
never thought he was going to use his beak and his claws
so soon."
"A nice thing you will have to tell his father, that
owing to yourteachings his son is a prisoner in the Tower,
maybe for life. But there-there's no fear of that. You
will never have to render that account, for there's no more
chance of your ever hearing more of him than there is of
my becoming king of Scotland. It's bad enough that you
have always been a ne'er-do-well yourself without training
that unfortunate boy to his ruin."
"Well, well, Andrew, I will not argue with you, and I
don't blame you at being sore and angry over the matter;
nor do I deny what you have said about myself; it's true
enough, and you might say worse things against me with-
out my quarreling with ye over it. However, the less said
the better. I will take myself off and think over what's
to be done."
"You had better come up and have your supper with
us," Andrew said, mollified by his brother's humility.


"Not for twenty golden guineas, Andrew, would I face
Mistress Janet. She has borne with me well, though I
' know in her heart she disapproves of me altogether; but
after this scrape into which I have got the boy I aren't
face her. She might not say much, but to eat with her
eye upon me would choke me."
Malcolm proceeded at once to the establishment of his
friend Macklewain.
"This is a nice kettle of fish, Malcolm, about young
Leslie. I have htad the justices down here, asking me all
sorts of questions, and they have got into their minds that
I taught him not only sword play but treason, and they
have been threatening to put me in the stocks as a vaga-
bond; but I snapped my fingers in their faces, saying I
earned my money as honestly as they did, and that I con-
cern myself in no way in politics, but teach English officers
and the sons of Glasgow tradesmen as well as those of
Highland gentlemen. They were nicely put out, I can
tell you; but I didn't care for that, for I knew I was in
the right of it. But what on earth made the young cock
meddle in this matter? How came he to be mixed up in
a Jacobite plot? Have you got your finger in it?"
"Not I, James; and how it happens that he is concerned
in it is more than I can guess. I know, of course, his
heart is with the king over the water; but how he came
to get his hand into the pie is altogether beyond me."
"The people here are well-nigh mad about it. I know
not who the gallant who has escaped is; but it is certain
that his capture was considered a very important one, and
that the justices here expected to have gained no small
credit by his arrest, whereas now they will be regarded as
fools for letting him slip through their fingers."
"I cannot for the life of me make out how he came to
be mixed, up in such a matter. No one but you and I
could have known that he was a lad of mettle, who might


be trusted in such a business. It can hardly be that they
would -have confided any secrets to him; still, the fact
that he was in the house with the man they are in search
of, and that he drew and -risked his life and certain impris-
onment to secure his escape, shows that he must have been
heart and soul in the plot."
"And what do you think of doing, Malcolm?"
"I shall get him out somehow. I can lay hands on a
score or two or more of our old comrades here in Glasgow,
and I doubt not that they will all strike a blow with me
for Leslie's son, to say nothing of his being a follower of
the Stuarts."
"You are not thinking, man, of attacking the jail!-
That would be a serious matter. The doors are strong,
and you would have the soldiers, to say naught, of thejZ
town-guard and the citizens, upon you before you had
reached him."
"No, no, James, I am thinking of no such foolishness.
I guess that they will not be trying him for withstanding
the watch, that's but a small matter; they will be sending
him south for the king's ministers to get out of him what
he knows about the Jacobite plot and the names of all
concerned, and it's upon the road that we must get him
out of their hands. Like enough they will only send four
troopers with him, and we can easily master them some-
where in the dales."
"It's more like, Malcolm, they will send him by ship.
They will know well enough that if the lad knows aught
.there will-be plenty whose interest it is to get him out of
their hands. I think they will take the safer way of put-
ting him on board ship."
"Like enough they will," Malcolm agreed, "and in that
.case it will be a harder job than I deemed it. But at any s
rate I mean to try. Ronald's not the lad to turn traitor;
he will say nothing whatever they do to him, you may be-


sore, and he may lie for years in an English prison if we
do not get him out of their hands before he gets there.
At any rate what we have got to do now is to mark every
*ship in the port sailing for London, and to find out whether
:passages are taken for a prisoner and his guard in any of
them. I will make that my business, and between times
get a score of trusty fellows together in readiness to start
if they should send him by land; but I doubt not that you
are right, and that he will be taken off by ship."
The- days of waiting passed slowly to Ronald, and An-
drew Anderson ofce or twice obtained permission to see
him. The bailie wisely abstained from any reproaches,
and sought only to persuade him to make a clean breast of
the business, and to tell all he knew.about a plot which
-could but end in failure and ruin to all concerned. Al-
though his belief in Ronald's truthfulness was great he
could not credit that the story which he had told contained
.all the facts of the matter. To the bailie it seemed in-
.credible that merely from an abstract feeling in favor of
the Stuarts Ronald would have risked his life and: liberty
;in aiding the escape of a Jacobite agent, unless he was in
:some way deeply involved in the plot; and he regarded
:Ronald's assurances to the contrary as the outcome of
what he considered an entirely mistaken sense of loyalty
*to the Stuart cause.
"Its all very well, Ronald," he said, shaking his head
sadly; "but when they get you to London they will find
:means to make you open your mouth. They have done
away with the thumb-screws and the rack, but there are-
other ways of making a prisoner speak, and it would be.
far better for you to make a clean breast of it at once..
:Janet is grieving for you as if you were her own son, and.
I cannot myself attend to my business. Who would have
-thought that so young a lad should have got himself
.nixed up in such sair trouble!"


,. .. .


"I have really told you all, bailie, though you will not
believe me, and I am sorry indeed for the trouble I have
brought upon you and my aunt"-for Ronald had from
the first been taught to address the bailie and his wife as
if Malcolm Anderson had been his real father; "anyhow I
wish they would settle it. I would rather know the worst
than go on from day to day expecting something that
never happens."
"You have to wait, Ronald, till word comes from Lon-
don. If they write from there that your case can be dealt
with merely for the assault upon the watch I can promise
you that a few weeks in jail are all that you are like to
have; but I fear that there is little chance of that. They
are sure to send for you to London, and whether you will
ever come back alive the gude Lord only knows. We
know what came of treason thirty years ago, and like,
enough they will be even more severe now, seeing that
'they will hold'that folks have all the less right to try and
disturb matters so long settled."
"Have you seen Malcolm?" Ronald asked, to change
the conversation.
"Ay, lad, I have seen him, and the meeting was not
altogether a pleasant one for either of us."
"I hope you have not quarreled with him on my ac-
count!" Ronald said eagerly.
"We have not exactly quarreled, but we have had words.
I could not but tell him my opinion as to his learning you
to take to such course, but we parted friends; but I doubt
it will be long before Janet can see him with patience."
The jailer, who was present at the interview, here noti-
fied that the bailie's time was up.
'I shall see you again, Ronald, before they take you
south. I would that I could do more to help you besides
just coming to see you."
S'iI now you cannot, uncle. I have got into the scrape


and must take the consequences; but if I were placed in
the same position I should do it again."
A few days afterward, as he was eating his ration of
prison bread, Ronald found in it a small pellet of paper,
and on opening it read the words: "Keep up your courage,
friends are at work for you. You will hear more yet
of M. A."
Ronald was glad to know that his old friend was think-
ing of him, but, knowing how strong was the prison, he
had little hopes that Malcolm would be able to effect any-
thing to help him. Still the note gave him comfort.
Three days later Andrew called again to bid him good-
by, telling him that orders had been received from London
that he was to be sent thither by ship.
"I should like to have seen Malcolm before I went, if I
could," Ronald said.
"I have not seen him for several days," the bailie said.
"I have sent down several times to the house where he
lodges, but he is always away; but, whether or no, there
would be no chance of your seeing him. I myself had
difficulty in getting leave to see you, though a bailie and
known to be a loyal citizen. But Malcolm knows that
there would be no chance of one with such a character as
'his getting to see you, and that it would draw attention to
him even to ask such a thing, which, if he has a hand in
this mad-brain plot, he would not wish."
"Malcolm would not mind a straw whether they kept a
watch on him or not," Ronald said. "Will you tell him,
when you see him next, that I got his message."
What message? I have given you no message that I
know of."
"He will know what I mean. Tell him, whether aught
comes of it or not I thank him, and for all his kindness to
me, as I do you and Aunt Janet."
At the same time with the order that Ronald should be


sent to London the authorities of Glasgow received an in-
timation that the ministers felt great surprise at the luke-
warmness which had been shown in allowing so notorious
and important an enemy of his majesty to escape, and that
the king himself had expressed marked displeasure at the
conduct of the city authorities in the matter. Greatly
mortified at the upshot of an affair from which they had
hoped to obtain much credit from government, and believ-
ing it certain that there were many greatly interested in
getting Ronald out of the hands of his captors, the authori-
ties took every precaution .to prevent it. He was taken
down to the riverside under a strong escort, and in ad-
dition to the four warders who were to be in charge of the
prisoner as far as London, they put on board twelve men
of the city guard. These were to remain with the ship
until she was well out at sea, and then to return in a boat
which the vessel was to tow behind her.
Ronald could not but smile when he saw all these for-
midable preparations for his safety. At the same time he
felt that any hope he had entertained that Malcolm might,
as the message hinted, make an attempt at rescue were
blighted. The vessel dropped down with the tide. The
orders of the justices had been so strict and urgent that
the whole of the men placed on board kept a vigilant
watch. Just as they were abreast of Dumbarton the
sound of oars was heard, and presently a boat was seen
approaching. As it got nearer two men were seen to be
rowing, and two others seated in the stern; but as the
craft was a large one there was room for others to be lying
in the bottom. The constable in charge shouted to the
boat to keep off.
"Stop rowing," he cried, "and come no nearer. If you
do we fire, and as I don't want to shed your blood I warn
you that I have sixteen armed men here."
As his words were emphasized by the row of men, who


with leveled muskets ranged themselves along at the side
of the ship, the boat ceased rowing.
"What are you afraid of?" one of the men in the stern
shouted. "Cannot a fisherman's boat row out without
being threatened with shooting? What are you and your
sixteen armed men doing on board? Are you expecting a
French fleet off the coast? and do you think you will beat
them off if they board you? How long have the Glasgow
traders taken'to man their ships with fighting men?"
Ronald was in the cabin under the poop; it opened on
to the waist, and received its light from an opening in the
door, at which two armed men had stationed themselves
when the boat was heard approaching. Had the cabin
possessed a porthole through which he could have squeezed
himself he would long before have jumped overboard and
tried to make his escape by swimming under cover of the
darkness. He now strove to force the door open for he
recognized Malcolm's voice, and doubted not that his
friend had spoken in order to let him know that he was
there, that he might if possible leap over and swim to the
boat; but it was fastened strongly without, and the guards
outside shouted that they would fire unless he remained
No reply was made to the taunts of the man in the boat,
and slowly, for the wind was but just filling her sails, the
vessel dropped down the river, and the boat was presently
lost sight of.
In the morning the breeze freshened. It was not till
the ship was eight miles beyond the mouth of the river
that the boat -was pulled up alongside, and the guard,
taking their places on board, hoisted sail and started on
their return to Glasgow.
Once fairly at sea Ronald was allowed to leave his cabin.
Now that he was enjoying the fresh air his spirits soon
recovered the tone which they had lost somewhat during


his three weeks' confinement in prison, and he thoroughly
enjoyed his voyage. The man who was in charge of the
guard had at first wished to place some restriction on his
going about on board as he chose; but the crew sided with
the young prisoner, and threw such ridicule on the idea
that four warders and a head constable were afraid, even
for a moment, to lose sight of a boy on board a ship at sea,
that he gave way, and allowed Ronald free liberty of action,
although he warned his subordinates that they must not
relax their caution for a moment.
"The crew are all with him. They think it a shame
that a lad like this should be hauled to London as a pris-
oner charged with treasonable practices; and sailors, when
they once get an idea into their heads, are as obstinate as
Highland cattle. I have told them that he drew a sword
and held the staircase against us all while a noted traitor
made his escape, and that he ran one of us through the
shoulder, and they only shouted with laughter, and said
he was a brave young cock. Like as not, if they had a
chance, these men would aid him to escape, and then we
should have to answer for it, and heavily too; loss of place.
and imprisonment would be the least of what we might ex-
pect; so though, while when at sea and in full daylight.
he can do as he pleases, we must be doubly vigilant at
night, or in port if the vessel should have to put in."
Accordingly, -to the great disgust of the sailors the watch
by turns stood sentry outside Ronald's door at night,
thereby defeating a plan which the sailors had formed of
lowering a boat the first night they passed near land, and
letting Ronald make his escape to shore.
The wind was favorable until the vessel rounded the
Land's End. After that it became baffling and fickle,
and it was more than three weeks after the date of her
sailing from Glasgow that the vessel entered the mouth of
the Thames. By this time Ronald's boyish spirits had


allayed all suspicion on the part of his guards. He joked
with the sailors, climbed about the rigging like a cat, and
-was so little affected by his position that the guards were
convinced that he was free from the burden of any state
secret, and that no apprehension of any serious consequence
to himself was weighing upon him.
"Poor lad!" the head warder said; "he will need all his
spirits. He will have hard work to make the king's coun-
cil believe that he interfered in such a matter as this from
a pure love of adventure. He will have many a weary month
to pass in prison before they free him, I reckon. It goes
against my heart to hand over such a mere laddie as a pris-
oner; still it is no matter of mine. I have my duty to do,
and it's not for me to question the orders I have-received,
or to argue whether a prisoner is innocent or guilty."
As the vessel anchored off Gravesend to wait for the
turn of the tide to take her up, a boat rowed by a water-
man, and with a man sitting in the stern, passed close by
the ship. The head warder had now redoubled his vigi-
lance, and one of the guards with loaded musket was
standing on the deck not far from Ronald, who was sitting
on the taffrail. As the boat passed some twenty yards
astern of the ship the man who was not rowing turned
round for a moment and looked up at Ronald. It was but
a momentary glance that the lad caught of his face, and
he suppressed with difficulty a cry of surprise, for he rec-
oguized Malcolm Anderson. The rower.continued stead-
ily to ply his oars, and continued his course toward another
ship anchored lower down the river. Ronald stood watch-
ing the boat, and saw that after making a wide sweep it
was rowed back again to Gravesend.
Ronald had no doubt that Malcolm had come south in
hopes of effecting his escape, and guessed that he had
taken up his post at Gravesend with the intention of ex-
amining every ship as she passed up until the one in which


he knew he had sailed made its appearance. What his
,next step would be he could not tell; but he determined
to keep a vigilant look-out, and to avail himself instantly
of any opportunity which might offer.
As the captain did not care about proceeding up the-
river after dark it was not until the tide turned, just as
morning broke, that the anchor was weighed. There was
a light breeze which just sufficed to give the vessel steerage-
way, and a mist hung on the water. Ronald took his
favorite seat on the taffrail, and kept a vigilant watch
upon every craft which seemed likely to come near the
Greenwich was passed, and the vessel presently ap-
proached the crowded part of the Pool. It was near high-
tide now, and the captain was congratulating himself that
he should just reach a berth opposite the Tower before it
turned. 'Presently a boat with two rowers shot out from
behind a tier of vessels and passed close under the stern of
the Glasgow Lass. A man was steering whom Ronald in-
stantly recognized.
"Jump!" he cried, and Ronald without a moment's
hesitation leaped from the taffrail.
He came up close to the boat, and was instantly hauled
on board by Malcolm. Just at that moment the guard,
who had stood stupefied by Ronald's sudden action, gave
a shout of alarm and discharged his piece. The ball struck
the boat close to Ronald. It was already in motion; the
men bent to the oars, and the boat glided toward the Sur-
rey side of the river. Loud shouts arose from on board
the vessel, and four bullets cut the water round the boat;
but before the muskets could be reloaded Malcolm had
steered the boat through a tier of vessels, whose crews,
attracted by the firing, cheered the fugitives lustily.
A minute later they had reached some landing-steps.
Malcolm tossed some money to the rowers, and then sprang

&, 1', L _! _. .! : !, a, 242:X__12


ashore with Ronald, and handed the latter a long coat
which would reach to his heels and conceal the drenched
state of his clothing from notice.
"We have tricked them nicely, dear boy," he said; "we
are safe now. Long before they can lower a boat and get
here we shall be safe in shelter, and our five Glasgow bodies
will have something to do to look for us here."
Moderating his pace so as to avoid attracting attention,
Malcolm proceeded along several streets and lanes, and
presently stopped at the door of a little shop.
"I am lodging here," he said, "and have told the people
of the house that I am expecting a nephew back from a
cruise in the Mediterranean."
As he passed through the shop he said to the woman
behind the counter: "Here he is safe and sound. He's
been some days longer than I expected, but I was not so
very far wrong in my calculations. The young scamp has
had enough of the sea, and has agreed to go back again
with me to his own people."
"That's right," the woman said. "My own boy ran
away two years ago, and I hope he will have come to his
senses by the time he gets back again."
When they were together in their room upstairs Malcolm
threw his arms round Ronald's neck.
"Thank God, my dear boy, I have got you out of the
clutches of the law! You do not know how I have been
fretting since I heard you were caught, and thought that
if ill came to you it would be all my fault. And now tell
me how you got into this scrape, for it has been puzzling
me ever since I heard it. Surely when I saw you last you
knew nothing about any Jacobite goings-on?"
Ronald related the whole particulars of his adventure,
and said that even now he was absolutely ignorant who
was the man whom he had aided to escape.
"I know no more than you do, Ronald, but they must

-Z.* 'r

Young BP9n~ld escapes from iis puards.-Page 59.
-Bonnic.Prince Chacrlip,


have thought his capture an important one by the fuss
they made over his escape. And now, to think that you
have slipped out of their hands too!" and Malcolm broke
into a loud laugh. "I would give a month's earnings to
see the faces of the guard as they make their report that
they have arrived empty-handed. I was right glad when
I saw you. I was afraid you might have given them the
slip on the way, and then there would have been no saying
when we might have found each other again."
"The sailors would have lowered a boat at night and let
me make for the land," Ronald said, "but there was .a
good guard kept over me. The door was locked and a
sentry always on watch, and I had quite given up all hope
until I saw you at Gravesend. And now, what do you
intend to do? Make our way back to Scotland?"
"No, no, lad, that would never do. There will be a hue
and cry after you, and all the northern routes will be
watched. No, I shall make a bargain with some Dutch
skipper to take us across the water, and then we will make
our way to Paris."
"But have you got money, Malcolm?"
"I have got your purse, lad. I went to Andrew and
said that I wanted it for you, but that he was to ask no
questions, so that whatever came of it he could say that
he knew nothing. He gave it me at once, saying only:
"'Remember, Malcolm, you have done the boy some
harm already with your teaching, see that you do him no
further harm. I guess you are bent on some hare-brained
plan, but whatever it be I wish you success.'"





THE NEXT day Malcolm went out alone, and on his re-
turn told Ronald that there were placards on the walls
offering a reward of a hundred pounds for his apprehension.
"You don't think the people below have any suspicion,
S"Not they," Malcolm replied. "I was telling them last
night after you had gone to bed all about the places you have
been voyaging to, and how anxious your father, a snug
farmer near Newcastle, was to have you back again. I
had spoken to them before so as to prepare them for your
coming, and the old woman takes quite an interest in you,
because her son at sea is a lad just about your age. I have
brought you in a suit of sailor clothes; we will go down
and have a chat with them after the shop is closed of a
night. You will remember Newcastle and the farm, and
can tell them of your escape from Greek pirates, and how
nearly you were taken by a French frigate near the straits."
The consternation of the watch at Ronald's escape was
extreme. The shot which the man on guard had fired
was their first intimation of the event, and seizing their
muskets they had hastily discharged them in the direction
of the fugitive, and had then shouted for a boat to be low-
ered. But never was a boat longer getting into the water
than was that of the Glasgow Lass upon this occasion.
The captain gave his orders in a leisurely way, and the


crew were even slower in executing them. Then somehow
the fall stuck and the boat wouldn't lower. When at last
she was in the water it was found that the thole-pins were
missing; these being found she was rowed across the river,
the five constables undergoing a running fire of jokes and
hilarity from the sailors of the ships they passed near.
In answer to their inquiries where the fugitives landed,
some of the sailors shouted that she had pulled up the
river behind the tier of vessels, others declared that she
had rowed down the river, while others insisted that she
had sunk with all hands close by.
Completely bewildered, the chief of the party told the
sailors to put them ashore at the first landing. When the
party gained the streets they inquired eagerly of all they
met whether they had seen aught of the fugitives. Few
of those they questioned understood the broad Scotch in
which the question was asked, others laughed in their faces
and asked how they were to know the man and boy they
wanted from any others; and after vainly looking about
for some time they returned to the stairs, only to find that
the boat had returned to the ship.
A waterman's boat was now hired, and the rower, who
had heard what had happened, demanded a sum for put-
ting them on board which horrified them; but at last,
after much bargaining, they were conveyed back to the
ship. An hour later the chief of the party went ashore,
and repairing to the Tower, where he had been ordered to
conduct the prisoner, reported his escape. He was at once
taken into custody on the charge of permitting the escape
of his prisoner, and it was not until three days later, upon
the evidence of his men and of the captain and officers of
the ship, that he was released.
His four men were put on board a ship returning to
Glasgow next day, while he himself was kept to identify
the fugitive should he be caught.

_ =_p: :


A week later Malcolm told Ronald that he had made
arrangements with the captain of a Dutch vessel to take
them over to Holland.
"We are to go on board at Gravesend," he said,'"for
they are searching all ships bound for foreign ports, It is
not for you especially, but there are supposed to be many
Jacobites going to and fro, and they will lay hands on any
one who cannot give a satisfactory account of himself. So
it is just as well for us to avoid questioning."
Accordingly the next day they walked down to Graves-
end, and taking boat there boarded the Dutch vessel when
she came along on the following day. The Dutch captain
received them civilly; he had been told by Malcolm that
they wished to leave the country privately, and guessed
that they were in some way fugitives from the law, but as
he was to be well paid this gave him no concern. There
were no other passengers, and a roomy cabin was placed at
their disposal. They passed down the river without im-
pediment, and anchored that night off Sheerness.
"These Dutch traders are but slow craft," Malcolm said
as he walked impatiently up and down the deck next
morning, watching the slow progress which they made
past the shore. "I wish we could have got a passage direct
to France, but of course that is impossible now the two
nations are at war."
"What is the war about, Malcolm? I heard at home
that they were fighting, but yet that somehow the two
countries were not at war."
"No, I don't know how that comes about," Malcolm
said. "England has a minister still at Paris; but for all
that King George is at the head of a number of British
troops in Germany fighting against the French there."
"But what is it about, Malcolm?"
Well, it is a matter which concerns Hanover more than
England; in fact England has no interest in the matter at


all as far as I can see, except that as France takes one side
she takes the other, because she is afraid of France get-
ting too strong. However, it is a German business, and
England is mixed up in it only because her present king is
a Hanoverian and not an Englishman. This is the matter
as far as I can make it out. Charles VI., Emperor of
Germany, died in October, 1740. It had been arranged
by a sort of general agreement called the Pragmatic Sanc-
What an extraordinary name, Malcolm! What does it
"I have not the least idea in the world, lad. However,
that is what it is called. It was signed by a lot of powers,
of whom England was one, and by it all parties agreed
that Charles' daughter Maria Theresa was to become Em-
press of Austria. However, when the emperor was dead
the Elector of Bavaria claimed to be emperor, and he was
supported by France, by Spain, and by Frederick of Prussia,
and they marched to Vienna, enthroned the elector as
Duke of Austria, and drove Maria Theresa to take refuge
in Hungary, where she was warmly supported.
"The English parliament voted a large sum to enable
the empress to carry on the war, and last year sixteen
thousand men under the Earl of Stair crossed the seas to
co-operate with the Dutch, who were warm supporters of
the empress, and were joined by six thousand Hessians
and sixteen thousand Hanoverians in British pay; but
after all nothing was done last year, for as in the last war
the Dutch were not ready to begin, and the English army
were in consequence kept idle."
"Then it seems that every one was against the empress
except England and these three little states." ,
"That is pretty nearly so," Malcolm said; "bnt at pres-
ent the empress has bought off the Prussians, whose king
joined in the affair solely for his own advantage, by giving


him the province of Silesia, so that in fact at present it is
England and Hanover, which is all the same thing, with
the Dutch and Hessians, against France and Bavaria, for
I don't think that at present Spain has sent any troops."
"Well, it seems to me a downright shame," Ronald said
indignantly; "and though I have no great love for the
, English, and hate their Hanoverian George and his people,
I shouldn't like to fight with one of the Scotch regiments
in the French service in such a quarrel."
Malcolm laughed.
"My dear lad, if every soldier were to discuss the merits
of- the quarrel in which he is ordered to fight there would
be an end of all discipline."
"Yes, I see that," Ronald agreed; "if one is once a sol-
dier he has only to obey orders. But one need not become
a soldier just at the time when he would be called upon to
fight for a cause which he considers unjust."
-"That is so, Ronald, and it's fortunate, if your feelings
are in favor of Maria Theresa, that we are not thinking of
enlisting just at present, for you would be puzzled which
side to take. If you fought for her you would have to
fight under the Hanoverian; if you fight against the Han-
overian you are fighting against Maria Theresa."
"Well, we don't want to fight at all," Ronald said.
"What we want to do is to find out something about my
father. I wish the voyage was at an end, and that we had
our faces toward Paris."
"It will not be so easy to cross from Holland into
France," Malcolm said. "I wish our voyage was at an
end for another reason, for unless I mistake there is a
storm brewing up."
Malcolm's prediction as to the weather was speedily
verified. The wind rose rapidly, ragged clouds hurried
across the sky, and the waves got up fast, and by nightfall
the sea had become really heavy, dashing in sheets high in


the air every time the bluff-bowed craft plunged into it.
Long before this Ronald had gone below prostrate with
"It's just like the obstinacy of these Dutchmen," Mal-
colm muttered to himself as he held on by a shroud and
watched the laboring ship. "It must have been clear to
any one before we were well out of the river that we were
going to have a gale, and as the wind then was nearly due
south, we could have run back again and anchored in shel-
ter till it was over. Now it has backed round nearly into
our teeth, with every sign of its getting into the north,
and then we shall have the French coast on our lee. It's
not very serious yet, but if the wind goes on rising as it
has done for the last four or five hours we shall have a gale
to remember before the morning."
Before daylight, indeed, a tremendous sea was running,
and the wind was blowing with terrible force from the
north. Although under but a rag of canvas the brig was
pressed down gunwale deep, and each wave as it struck
her broadside seemed to heave her bodily to leeward.
Malcolm on coming on deck made his way aft and glanced
at the compass, and then took a long look over the foam-
ing water toward where he knew the French coast must
lie. The wind was two or three points east of north, and
as the clumsy craft would not sail within several points of
the wind she was heading nearly east.
"She is making a foot to leeward for every one she
forges ahead," he said to himself. "If she has been at
this work all night we cannot be far from the coast."
So the Dutch skipper appeared to think, for a few
minutes afterward he gave orders to bring her about on
the other tack. Three times they tried and failed; each
time the vessel slowly came up into the wind, but the
heavy waves forced her head off again before the head-sails
filled. Then the skipper gave orders to wear her. Her


head payed off to the wind until she was nearly before it.
Two or three great seas struck her stern and buried her
head deeply, but at last the boom swung over and her
head came up on the other tack. During the course of
these maneuvers she had made fully two miles leeway, and
when sh.e was fairly under sail with her head to the west
Malcolm took another long look toward the south.
"Just as I thought," he. said. "There is white water
there and a dark line behind it. That is the French coast,
sure enough."
It would have been useless to speak, but he touched the
arm of the skipper and pointed to leeward. The skipper
looked in this direction for a minute and then gave the
order for more sail to be put on the ship, to endeavor to
beat out in the teeth of the gale. But even when pressed
to the utmost it was evident to-Malcolm that the force of
the waves was driving her faster toward the coast than she
could make off it, and he went below and told Ronald to
come on deck.
"I would rather lie here," Ronald said.
"Nonsense, lad! The wind and spray will soon knock
the sickness out of you; and you will want all your wits
about you, for it won't be many hours before we are
bumping on the sands, and stoutly built as the craft is she
won't hold together long in such a sea as this."
"Do you really mean it, Malcolm, or are you only trying
to get me on deck?"
"I mean it, lad. We are drifting fast upon the French
coast, and there is no hope of her clawing off in the teeth
of such a gale as this."
The news aroused Ronald effectually. He had not suf-
fered at all on the voyage down from Glasgow, and he was
already beginning to feel better when Malcolm went down
to call him. He was soon on deck holding on by the

" ." : ---"C-'


"There it is, that long low black line; it looks a long
way off because the air is full of spray and the coast is low,
but it's hot more than three or four miles; look at that
broad belt of foam."
For some hours the Dutch skipper did his best to beat
to windward, but in vain, the vessel drove nearer and
nearer toward the shore; the anchors were got in readiness,
and when within a quarter of a mile of the line of breakers
the vessel's head was brought up into the wind, and the
lashings of the two anchors cut simultaneously.
"Will they hold her, do you think?" Ronald asked.
"Not a chance of it, Ronald. Of course the captain is
right to try; but no cables were ever made that would hold
such a bluff-bowed craft as this in the teeth of such a wind
and sea."
The cables ran out to the bitts. Just as they tightened
a great sea rolled in on the bow. Two dull reports were
heard, and then her head payed off. The jib was run up
instantly to help her round, and under this sail the brig
was headed directly toward the shore. The sea was break-
ing round them now; but the brig was almost flat-bottomed
and drew but little water. All on board hung on to the
shroud and bulwarks, momentarily expecting a crash, but
she drove on through the surf until within a hundred yards
of the shore. Then as she went down in the trough of a
wave there was a mighty crash. The next wave swept
her forward her own length.
Then there was another crash even more tremendous
than the first, and her masts simultaneously went over the
side. The next wave moved her but a few feet; the one
which followed, finding her immovable, piled itself higher
over her, and swept in a cataract down her sloping deck.
Her stern had swung round after the first shot, and she
now lay broadside to the waves. The Dutch skipper and
his crew behaved with the greatest calmness; the ship lay


over at such an angle that it was impossible to stand on
the deck; but the captain managed to get on the upper
rail, and although frequently almost washed off by the
seas, contrived to cut the shrouds and ropes that still at-
tached the masts to the ship there. Then he joined the
crew, who were standing breast-high in the water on the
lee side, the floating masts were pulled in until within a
few yards of the vessel, and such of the crew as could swim
made toward them.
The skipper cut the last rope that bound them, and
then plunged in and joined his men. The distance was
little over fifty yards to the shore, and the wreck formed a
partial shelter. A crowd of people were assembled at the
edge of the beach with ropes in readiness to give any assist-
ance in their power. Malcolm and Ronald were among
those who had swam to the masts, but when within a short
distance of the shore the former shouted in the latter's ear:
"Swim off, lad, the masts might crush us."
As soon as they neared the shore a number of ropes were
thrown. Most of the sailors, seeing the danger of being
crushed, followed the example of Malcolm, and left the
masts. Malcolm and Ronald swam' just outside the point
where the waves broke until a line fell in the water close
to them. They grasped it at once.
"Give it a twist round your arm," Malcolm shouted,
"or the back-wash will tear you from it."
The sailors on shore watched their opportunity, and the
instant a wave passed beneath the two swimmers ran up
the beach at full speed with the rope. There was a crash.
Ronald felt himself shot forward with great rapidity, then
as he touched the ground with his feet they were swept
from under him, and so great was the strain that he felt
as if his arm was being pulled from the socket. A few
seconds later he was lying at full length upon the sands,
and before the next wave reached him a dozen men had

. -- ~ _- ~. -- .T


rushed-down and seized him and Malcolm, and carried
them beyond its influence. For a minute or two Ronald
felt too bruised and out of breath to move. Then he
heard Malcolm's voice:
"Are you hurt, Ronald?"
"No; I think not, Malcolm," he replied, making an
effort to sit up. "Are you?"
"No, lad; bruised a bit, but no worse."
One by one the sailors were brought ashore, one with
both legs broken from the force with which he was dashed
down by the surf, and one man who stuck to the mast was
crushed to death as it was rolled over and over on to the
beach. The captain and three sailors were, like Malcolm
and Ronald, unhurt. There still remained four men on
the wreck. Fortunately she had struck just at high-tide,
and so stoutly was she built that she held together in spite
of the tremendous seas, and in an hour the four sailors
were able to wade breast-high to the shore.
They found that the spot where the vessel had struck
was half a mile west of Gravelines. They were taken to
the town, and were hospitably entertained. A small body
of soldiers were quartered there, and the officer in com-
mand told the Dutch skipper that as the two nations were
at war he and his crew must be detained until he received
orders respecting them. On learning from Malcolm that
he and Ronald were passengers, and were Scotsmen making
their way from England to escape imprisonment as friends
of the Stuarts, and that he had for twelve years served in
one of the Scotch regiments of Louis, and was now bound
for Paris, the officer said that they were free to continue
their journey at once.
It was two or three' days before they started, for they
found the next morning that they were both too severely
bruised to set out at once on the journey. As Malcolm
had taken care to keep the purse containing Ronald's

-: ; ."(.-. '** <-


money securely fastened to a belt under his clothes they
had no lack of funds; but as time was no object they
started for Paris on foot. Ronald 'greatly enjoyed the
journey. Bright weather had set in after the storm. It
was now the middle of May, all nature was bright and
cheerful, the dresses of the peasantry, the style of archi-
tecture so different to that to which he was accustomed in
Scotland, and everything else .were new and strange to
him. Malcolm spoke French as fluently as his own lan-
guage, and they had therefore no difficulty or trouble on
the way.
They arrived at Paris without any adventure. Malcolm
went to a cabaret which had at the time when he was in
the French service been much frequented by Scotch sol-
diers, being kept by a countryman of their own, an ex-
sergeant in one of the Scottish regiments.
"Ah! Sandy Macgregor," Malcolm exclaimed as the
proprietor of the place approached to take their order.
"So you are still in the flesh, man! Right glad am I to
see you again."
"I know your face," Sandy replied; "but I canna just
say what your name might be."
"Malcolm Anderson, of Leslie's Scotch regiment. It's
fourteen years since I left them now; but I was here again
four years later, if you can remember, when I came over
to try and find out if aught had been heard of the colonel."
"Ay, ay," Sandy said, grasping Malcolm's outstretched
hand warmly. "It all comes back to me now. Right
glad am I to see you. And who is thelad ye have brought
with you? A Scot by his face and bearing, I will be bound,
but young yet for the service if that be what he is thinking
"He is the colonel's son, Sandy. You will remember I
told you I had carried him back to Scotland with me; but
I need not tell ye that this is betwixt ourselves, for those.


who have so badly treated his father might well have a
grudge against the son, and all the more that he is the
rightful heir to many a broad acre here in France."
"I give you a hearty welcome, young sir," Sandy said.
" Many a time I have seen your brave father riding at the
head of his regiment, and have spoken to him too, for he
and his officers would drop in here and crack a cup together
in a room I keep upstairs for the quality. Well, well, and
to think that you are his son! But what Malcolm said is
true, and it were best that none knew who ye are, for they
have an unco quick way here of putting inconvenient peo-
ple out of the way."
"Have you ever heard aught of my father since?"
Ronald asked eagerly.
"Not a word," Sandy replied. "I have heard it talked
over scores of times by men who were in the regiment that
was once his, and none doubted that if he were still alive
he was lying in the Bastile, or Vincennes, or one of the
other cages where they keep those whose presence the king
or his favorites find inconvenient. It's just a stroke of
the pen, without question or trial, and they are gone, and
even their best friends darena ask a question concerning
them. In most cases none know why they have been put
away; but there is no doubt why Leslie was seized. Three
or four of his fellow officers were in the secret of his mar-
riage, and when he had disappeared these talked loudly
about it, and there was sair grief and anger among the
Scottish regiment at Leslie's seizure. But what was to be
done? it was just the king's pleasure, and that is enough
in France. Leslie had committed the grave offense of
thwarting the wishes of two of the king's favorites, great
nobles, too, with broad lands and grand connections.
What were the likings of a Scottish soldier of fortune and
a headstrong girl in comparison! In Scotland in the old
times. a gallant who had carried off a daughter of a Douglas

aE-..------..- -J*- -',^


or one of our powerful nobles would have made his wife a
widow ere many weeks were over, and it is the same thing
here now. It wouldna have been an easy thing for his
enemies to kill Leslie with his regiment at his back, and
so they got an order from the king, and as surely got rid
of him as if they had taken his life."
"You have never heard whether my mother has married
again?" Ronald asked.
"I have never heard her iame mentioned. Her father
is still at court, but his daughter has never been seen since,
or I should have heard of it; but more than that I cannot
"That gives me hopes that my father is still alive,"
Ronald said. "Had he been dead they might have forced
her into some other marriage."
"They might so; but she was plainly a lassie who had a
will of her own and may have held out."
"But why did they not kill him instead of putting him
in prison if he was in their way?"
"They might, as I said, have done it at once; but once
in prison he was beyond their reach. The king may grant
a lettre de cachet, as these orders are called, to a favorite;
but even in France men are not put to death without some
sort of a trial, and even Chateaurouge and De Recambours
could not ask Louis to have a man murdered in prison to
gratify their private spite, especially when that man was a
brave Scottish officer whose fate had already excited much
discontent among his compatriots in the king's service,
Then again much would depend upon who was the governor
of the prison. These men differ like others. Some of
them are honorable gentlemen, to whom even Louis him-
self would not venture to hint that he wanted a prisoner
put out of the way; but there are others who, to gratify a
powerful nobleman, would think nothing of telling a jailer
to forget for a fortnight to give food to a prisoner. So


you see we cannot judge from this. And now what are
you thinking of doing, Malcolm, and why are you over
"In the first place we are over here because young Leslie
took after his father and aided a Jacobite, whom George's
men were in search of, to escape, and drew his sword on a
worshipful justice of Glasgow and the city watch."
"Hie has begun early," Sandy said, laughing; "and how
did he get away?"
"They brought him down a prisoner to London, to in-
terrogate him as to the plot. I had a boat in the Thames
and he jumped over and swam for it; so here we are..
There are rumors in Scotland that King Louis is helping'
Prince Charlie, and that an army is soon going to sail for
"It is talked of here, but so far nothing is-settled; but
as King George is interfering in Louis' affairs, and is
fighting him in Germany, I think it more than likely that
King Louis is going to stir up a coil in Scotland to give
George something to do at home."
"Then if there's nothing to be done here I shall find
out the old regiment. There will be many officers in it
still who have fought under Leslie, and some of them may
know more about him than you do, and will surely be able
to tell me what has become of the lad's mither."
"That may well be so; but keep a quiet tongue, Mal-
colm, as to Leslie's son, save to those on whose discretion
you can rely. I tell you, if it were known that he is alive
and in France his life would not be worth a week's pur-
chase. They would not take the trouble to get a leitre de
cachet for him as they did for his father; it would be just
a pistol bullet or a stab on a dark night or in a lonely place.
There would be no question asked about the fate of an
unknown Scotch laddie."
'"I will be careful, Sandy, and silent. The first thing
is to find out where the old regiment is lying."


"That I can tell you at once. It is on the frontier with
the Due de Noailles, and they say that there is like to be
a great battle with English George and his army."
"Well, as we have nothing else to do we will set out
and find them," Malcolm said; "but as time is not press-
ing we will stop a few days here in Paris and I will show
the lad the sights. I suppose you can put us up."
"'That can I. Times are dull at present. After '15
Paris swarmed with Scotsmen who had fled to save their
heads; but of late years but few have.come over, and the
Scotch regiments have difficulty in keeping up their num-
bers. Since the last of them marched for the frontier I
have been looking after empty benches, and it will be good
news for me when I hear that the war is over and they are
on their way back."
For some days Malcolm and Ronald wandered about the
narrow streets of Paris. Ronald was somewhat disap-
pointed in the city of which he had heard so much. The
streets were ill-paved and worse lighted, and were narrow
and winding. In the neighborhood of the Louvre there
were signs of wealth and opulence. The rich dresses of
the nobles contrasted strongly indeed with the somber
attire of the Glasgow citizens, and the appearance and
uniform of the royal guards filled him with admiration;
but beyond the fashionable quarter it did not appear to
him that Paris possessed many advantages over Gasgow,
and the poorer class were squalid and poverty-stricken to a
far greater degree than anything he had seen in Scotland.
But the chief points of attraction to him were the prisons.
The Bastile, the Chatelet, and the Temple were points to
which he was continually turning; the two former espe-
cially, since, if he were in Paris, it was in one of these
that his father was most probably lying.
The various plans he had so often thought over, by
which, in some way or other, he might communicate with


his father and aid his escape, were roughly shattered at
the sight of these buildings. He had reckoned on their
resembling in some respect the prison in Glasgow, and at
the sight of these formidable fortresses with their lofty
walls and flanking towers, their moats and vigilant sen-
tries, his hopes fell to zero. It would, he saw at once, be
absolutely impossible to open communication with a pris-
oner of whose whereabouts he was wholly ignorant and of
whose very existence he was doubtful. The narrow slits
which lighted the cell in which he was confined might
look into an inner court, or the cell itself might be below
the surface of the soil. The legend of the troubadour
who discovered King Richard of England's place of cap-
tivity by singing without the walls had always been present
in his mind, but no such plan would be practicable here.
He knew no song which his father, and, his father only,
would recognize; and even did he know such a song, the
appearance of any one loitering in the open space outside
the moat round .the Bastile singing at intervals at different
points would have instantly attracted the attention of the
sentries on the walls. Nor, even did lie discover that his
father was lying a prisoner in one of the cells facing out-
ward in the fortress, did he see any possibility of compass-
ing his escape. The slits were wide enough only for the
passage of a ray of light or the flight of an arrow. No
human being could squeeze himself through them, and
even if he could do so he would need a long rope to descend
into the moat.
One day Ronald talked over his ideas with Malcolm, who
declared at once that they were impossible of execution.
"There is scarcely a case on record," he said, "of an
escape from either the Bastile or the Chatelet, and yet
there have been scores of prisoners confined in them with
friends of great influence and abundant means. If these
have been unable, by bribing jailers or by other strategy,


to free their friends, how could a stranger, without either
connection, influence, or wealth, hope to effect the escape
of a captive were he certain that he was within the walls.
Do not waste your thought on such fancies, Ronald. If
your fathers still in prison it is by influence only, and
influence exerted upon the king and exceeding that of your
father's enemies, that his release can be obtained.
"Such influence there is no possibility of our exerting.
Your father's comrades and countrymen, his position and
services, availed nothing when he was first imprisoned;
and in the time which has elapsed the number of those
who know him and would venture to risk the king's dis-
pleasure by pleading his cause must have lessened consid-
erably. The only possibility, mind I say possibility, for
in my belief there is not a shadow of probability, of success
lies in your mother.
"So far it is clear that she has been powerless; but we
know not under what circumstances she has been placed.
She may all this time have been shut up a prisoner in a
convent; she may be dead; but it is possible that, if she is
free, she may have powerful connections on her mother's
side, who might be induced to take up her cause and to
plead with the king for your father's liberty. She may
have been told that your father is dead. She is, no
doubt, in ignorance of what has become of you, or whether
you are still alive. If she believes you are both dead- she
would have had no motive for exerting any family influ-
ence she may have, and may be living a broken-hearted
woman, firm only in the resolution to accept no other
"Yes, that is possible," Ronald agreed. "At any rate,
Malcolm, let us lose no further time, but set out to-morrow
for the frontier and try to find out from my father's old
comrades what has become of my mother."




AFTER walking two or three miles Malcolm and Ronald
came upon the rear of a train of wagons which had set out
from Paris an hour earlier. Entering into conversation
with one of the drivers they found that the convoy was
bound for the frontier with ammunition and supplies for
the army.
"This is fortunate," Malcolm said; "for to tell you the
truth, Ronald, I have looked forward to our meeting with
a good many difficulties by the way. We have no passes
or permits to travel, and should be suspected of being
either deserters or thieves. We came down from the north
easy enough; but there they are more accustomed to the
passage of travelers to or from the coast. Going east our
appearance if alone would be sure to incite comment and
suspicion. It is hard if among the soldiers with the con-
voy I do not know some one who has friends in the old
regiment. At any rate we can offer to make ourselves
useful in case of any of the drivers falling ill or deserting
by the way."
As they walked along toward the head of the long line
of wagons Malcolm closely scrutinized the troopers who
formed the escort, but most of them were young soldiers,
and he therefore went on without accosting them until he
reached the head of the column. Here two officers were


riding together, a captain and a young lieutenant. Mal-
colm saluted the former.
"I am an old soldier of the 2d Regiment of Scottish
Cavalry, and am going with my young friend here, who
has relations in the regiment, to join them. Will you
permit us, sir, to journey with your convoy? We are
ready, if needs be, to make ourselves useful in case any of
your drivers are missing, no uncommon thing, as I know,
on a long journey."
The officer asked a few questions about his services,,and
"What have you been doing since you left, as you say,
fourteen years ago?"
"I have been in Scotland, sir. I took this lad, who was.
then an infant, home to my people, having had enough of
soldiering, while my brother, his father, remained with
the regiment. We do not know whether he is alive or
dead, but if the former the lad wants to join as a trum-
peter, and when old enough to fight in the ranks."
"Very well," the officer said. "You can march along
with us, and if any of these fellows desert you shall take
their places, and of course draw their pay."
It was a short time indeed before Malcolm's services
were called into requisition, for the very first night several
of the drivers, who had been pressed into the service,
managed to elude the vigilance of the guard and slipped
The next morning Malcolm, with Ronald as his assist-
ant, took charge of one of the heavy wagons, loaded with
ammunition, and drawn by twelve horses.
"This is better than walking after all, Ronald. In the
first place it saves the legs, and in the second one is partly
out of the dust."
"But I think we should get on faster walking, Malcolm."
"Yes, if we had no stoppages. But theh, -you see as we.


have no papers we might be detained for weeks by some
pig-headed official in a little country town; besides, we are
sure to push on as fast as we can, for they will want the
ammunition before a battle is fought. And after all-a few
days won't make much difference to us; the weather is
fine, and the journey will not be unpleasant."
In fact Ronald enjoyed the next three weeks greatly as
the train :of wagons made its way across the plains of
Champagne, and then on through the valleys of Lorraine
and Alsace until it reached Strasbourg. Malcolm had
,speedily made friends with some of the soldiers of the es-
cort, and of an evening when the day's work was over he
and Ronald sat with them by the fires they made by the
roadside, and Malcolm told tales of the campaigns in which
he had been engaged, and the soldiers sang songs or chatted
over the probabilities of the events of the war.- None of
them had served before, having been but a few months
taken from their homes in various parts of France. But
although, doubtless, many had at first regretted bitterly
being dragged away to the wars, they were now all recon-
ciled to their lot, and looked forward eagerly to joining
their regiment, which was at the front, when the duty of
looking after the convoy would be at an end.
Little was known in Paris as to the position of the con-
tending armies beyond the fact that Lord Stair, who com-
manded the English army, sixteen thousand strong, which
had for the last year been lying inactive in Flanders, had
marched down with his Hanoverian allies toward the
Maine, and that the Due de Noailles with sixty thousand
men was lying beyond the Rhine. But at Strasbourg they
learned that the French army had marched north to give
battle to Lord Stair, who had at present with him but
twenty-eight thousand men, and was waiting to be joined
by twelve thousand Hanoverians and Hessians who were
on their way.


The convoy continued its journey, pushing forward with
-all speed, and on the 26th of July joined the army of De
Noailles. The French were on the south side of the river,
but having arrived on its banks before the English they
had possession of the bridges. As soon as the wagons had
joined the army Malcolm obtained from the officer com-
manding the escort a discharge, saying that he and Ronald
had fulfilled their engagement as drivers with the wagons
to the front, and were now at liberty to return to France.
"Now we are our own masters again, Ronald," Malcolm
said. "I have. taken part in a good many battles, but have
never yet had the opportunity of looking on at one comfort-
ably. De Noailles should lose no time in attacking, so as
to destroy the English before they receive their reinforce-
ments. As he holds the bridges he can bring on the battle
when he likes, and I think that to-morrow or next day the
fight will take place."
It was known in the camp that evening that the English
had established their chief magazines at Hanau, and were
marching up the river toward Aschaffenburg. In the
early morning a portion of the French troops crossed the
river at that town,. and took up a strong position there.
Ronald and Malcolm climbed a hill looking down upon
the river from the south side, and thence commanded the
view of the ground across which the English were march-
ing. On the eastern side of the river spurs of the Spessart
Mountains came down, close to its bank, inclosing a narrow
flat between Aschaffenburg and Dettingen. At the latter
place the heights approached so closely to the river as to
render it difficult for an army to pass between them.
While posting a strong force at Aschaffenburg to hold the
passage across a stream running into the Maine there, De
Noailles marched his main force down the river; these
movements were hidden by the nature of the ground from
the English, who were advancing unconscious of their
danger toward Dettingen.


"De Noailles will have them in a trap," Malcolm said,
for from their position on the hill they could see the whole
,ground on the further bank, Hanau lying some seven miles
beyond Dettingen, which was itself less than seven miles
from Aschaffenburg.
"I am afraid so," Ronald said.
"Afraid!" Malcolm repeated. "Why, you should re-
joice, Ronald."
"I can't do that," Ronald replied. "I should like to
see the Stuarts instead of the Hanoverians reigning over
us; but after all, Malcolm, England and Scotland are one
"But there are Scotch regiments with the French army,
and a brigade of Irish."
"That may be," Ronald said. "Scotchmen who have
got into political trouble at home may enter the service of
France, and may fight heartily against the Germans or the
Flemings, or other enemies of France; but I know that I
should feel very reluctant to fight against the English
army, except, of course, at home for the Stuarts."
"It will benefit the Stuarts' cause if the English are
defeated here," Malcolm said.
"That may be or it may not," Ronald replied. "You
yourself told me that Louis cared nothing for the Stuarts,
and would only aid them in order to cripple the English
strength at home. Therefore, if he destroys the English
army here he will have less cause to fear England and so
less motive for helping the chevalier."
"That is true enough," Malcolm agreed. "You are fast
becoming a politician, Ronald. Well, I will look on as a
neutral then, because, although the English are certainly
more nearly my countrymen than are the French, you
must remember that for twelve years I fought under the
French flag. However, there can be no doubt what is
going to take place. See, the dark mass of the English


army are passing through the defile of Dettingen, and the
French have begun to cross at Seligenstadt in their rear.
See, they are throwing three or four bridges across the
river there."
In utter ignorance of their danger the English marched
on along the narrow plain by the river bank toward
"Look at their cavalry scouting ahead of them," Mal-
colm said. "There, the French are opening fire!" And
as he spoke puffs of musketry rose up from the line of the
stream held by the French.
The English cavalry galloped back, but the columns of
infantry still advanced until within half a mile of the
French position, and were there halted, while some guns
from the French lines opened fire. The bridges at Selig-
enstadt were now completed, and masses of troops could
be seen pouring over. King George and the Duke of
Cumberland had joined the Earl of Stair just as the army
passed through Dettingen, and were riding at the head of
the column when the French fire opened. A short time
was spent in reconnoitering the position of the enemy in
front. The English believed that the entire French army
was there opposed to them, and that the advance of the
army into Franconia, which was its main objective, was
therefore barred. After a short consultation it was re-
solved to fall back at once upon the magazines at Hanau,
which, from their ignorance of the near proximity of the
French, had been left but weakly guarded. Believing
that as they fell back they would be hotly pursued by the
French army, the king took the command of the rear as
the post of danger, and the columns, facing about, marched
toward DeTtingen.
But the French had been beforehand with them. De
Noailles had sent 23,000 men under his nephew the Duke
do Grammont across the river to occupy Dettingen. He


himself with his main army remained on the south side,
with his artillery placed so as to fire across the river upon
the flank of the English as they approached Dettingen;
while he could march up and cross at Aschaffenburg should
the English, after being beaten back at Dettingen, try to
retreat up the river.
De Grammont's position was a very strong one behind a
swamp and a deep ravine hollowed out by a stream from
the hill. There seemed no possibility of escape for the
English army, who were as yet absolutely in ignorance of
the position of the French. As the head of the column
approached Dettingen, Grammont's artillery opened upon
them in front, while that of De Noailles smote them in
flank. As soon as the king found that his retreat was cut
off he galloped from the rear of the column to its head.
His horse, alarmed by the fire of the artillery and whistling
of balls, ran away with him, and was with difficulty stop-
ped just as he reached the head of the column. He at
once dismounted and announced his intention of leading
his troops on foot.
There was a hasty council held between him, Lord Stair,
and the Duke of Cumberland, and it was agreed that the
only escape from entire destruction was by fighting their
way through the force now in front of them. This would
indeed have been impossible had De Grammont held his
position; but when that officer saw the English troops
halt he believed that he had only the advanced guard in
front of him, and resolving to overwhelm these before
their main body arrived, he abandoned his strong position,
led his troops across the swamp, and charged the English
in front.
De Noailles, from the opposite bank seeing the error his
nephew had made, hurried his troops toward the bridges
in order to cross the river and render him assistance; but
it was too late.

~ .' -.. _-


The English infantry, headed by the king in person,
hurled themselves upon the troops of De Grammont.
Every man felt that the only hope of escape from this
trap into which they had fallen lay in cutting their way
through the enemy, and so furiously did they fight that
De Grammont's troops were utterly overthrown, and were
soon in full flight toward the bridges in the rear, hotly
pursued by the English. Before they could reach the
bridges they left behind them on the field six thousand
killed and wounded. King George, satisfied with his suc-
cess and knowing that the French army was still greatly
S superior to his own, wisely determined to get out of his
Dangerous position as soon as possible, and pushed on that
night to Hanau.
Although Malcolm and Ronald were too far off to wit-
ness the incidents of the battle, they made out the tide of
war rolling away from them, and saw the black masses of
troops pressing on through Dettingen in spite of the
French artillery which thundered from the opposite bank
of the river.
"They have won!" Ronald said, throwing up his cap.
"Hurrah, Malcolm! where is the utter destruction of the
English now? See, the plain beyond Dettingen is covered
by a confused mass of flying men. The English have
broken out of the trap, and instead of being crushed have
won a great victory."
"It looks like it certainly," Malcolm said. "I would
not have believed it if I had not seen it; their destruction
seemed certain. And now let us go round to the camp
On their way down Malcolm said:
"I think, on the whole, Ronald, that you are perhaps
right, and the French defeat will do good rather than
harm to the Stuart cause. Had they conquered, Louis
would have been too intent on pushing forward his own


.schemes to care much for the Stuarts. He has no real in-
terest in them, and only uses them as cat's-paws to injure
England. If he had beaten the English and Hanoverians
he would not have needed their aid. As it is, it seems
likely enough that he will try to create a diversion, and
keep the English busy at home by aiding the Stuarts with
men and money to make a landing in Scotland."
"In that case, Malcolm, we need not grieve over the
defeat to-day. You know my sympathies are with the
-brave Empress of Austria rather than with her enemies,
and this defeat should go far toward seating her securely
;on the throne. Now, what will you do, Malcolm? Shall
we try and find my father's friends at once?"
"Not for another few days," Malcolm said. "Just after
a defeat men are not in the best mood to discuss bygone
matters. Let us wait and see what is done next."
The next morning a portion of the French army which
had not been engaged crossed the river and collected the
French and English wounded, for the latter had also been
left behind. They were treated by the French with the
same care and kindness that was bestowed upon their own
wounded. De Noailles was about to advance against the
English at Hanau, when he received the news that the
French army in Bavaria had been beaten back by Prince
Charles, and had crossed the Rhine into Alsace. As he
would now be exposed to the whole brunt of the attack of
the allies he decided to retreat at once.
The next day the retreat recommended. Many of the
drivers had fled at the first news of the defeat, and Mal-
colm without question assumed the post of driver of one
of the abandoned teams. For another week the army re-
tired, and then crossing the Rhine near Worms-were safe
from pursuit.
"Now, Ronald, I will look up the old regiment, and we
will see what is to be done,"


The 2d Scotch Dragoons were posted in a little village
a mile distant from the main camp which had now been
formed. Malcolm did not make any formal transfer of
the wagon to the authorities, thinking it by no means im-
probable that they would insist upon his continuing his
self-adopted avocation as driver; but after seeing to the
horses, which were picketed with a long line of transport
animals, he and Ronald walked quietly away without any
ceremony of adieu.
"We must not come back again here," he said, "for
some of the teamsters would recognize me as having been
driving lately, and I should have hard work to prove that
I was not a deserter; we must take to the old regiment now
as long as we are here."
On reaching the village they found the street full of
troopers who were busily engaged in cleaning thpir arms,
grooming their horses, and removing all signs of weather
and battle. Ronald felt a thrill of pleasure at hearing his
native language spoken. He had now so far improved the
knowledge of French as to be able to converse without
difficulty, for Malcolm had from his childhood tried to
keep up his French, and had lately always spoken in that
language to him, unless it was necessary to speak in Eng-
lish in order to make him understand.
These occasions had become more and more rare, and
two months of constant conversation with Malcolm and
others had enabled Ronald by this time to speak with some
fluency in the French tongue. None of the soldiers paid
any attention to the newcomers, whose dress differed in no
way from that of Frenchmen, as after the shipwreck they
had, of course, been obliged to rig themselves out afresh.
Malcolm stopped before an old sergeant who was diligently
polishing his sword hilt.
"And how fares it with you all these years, Angus


The sergeant almost dropped his sword in his surprise
at being so addressed in his own tongue by one whose
appearance betokened him a Frenchman.
"You don't know me, Angus," Malcolm went on with
a smile; "and yet you ought to, for if it hadn't been for
me the sword of the German hussar who carved that ugly
scar across your cheek would have followed it up by put-
ting an end to your soldiering altogether."
Heart alive, but it's Malcolm Anderson! Eh, man,
but I am glad to see you! I thought you were dead years
ago, for I have heard nae mair of you since the day when
you disappeared from among us like a spook, the same day
that pair Colonel Leslie was hauled off to the Bastile. A
sair day was that for us a'! And where ha' ye been all
the time?"
"Back at home, Angus, at least in body, for my heart's
been with the old regiment. And who, think you, is
this? But you must keep a close mouth, man, for it must
not-be talked of. This is Leslie's son. By his father's
last order I took him off to Scotland with me to be out of
reach of his foes, and now I have brought him back again
to try if between us we can gain any news of his father."
"You don't say so, Malcolm! I never as much as heard
that the colonel had a son, though there was some talk in
the regiment that he had married a great lady, and that it
was for that that he had been hid away in prison. And thisis
Leslie's boy! Only to think, now! Well, young sir, there
isn't a man in the regiment but wad do his best for your
father's son, for those who have joined us since, and in
truth that's the great part of us, have heard many a tale
of Colonel Leslie, though they may not have served under
him, and not a tale but was to his honor, for a braver
officer nor a kinder one never stepped the earth. But
come inside, Malcolm. I have got a room to myself and a
stoup of good wine; let's talk over things fair and gentle,


and when I know what it is that you want you may be
sure that I will do all I can, for the sake baith of the colo-
nel and of you, auld comrade."
The trio were soon seated in the cottage, and Malcolm
then gave a short sketch of all that had taken place since
he had left the regiment.
"Well, well!" the sergeant said when he had ended;
"and so the lad, young as he is, has already drawn his
sword for the Stuarts, and takes after his father in loyalty
as well as in looks, for now that I know who he is I can
see his father's face in his'plain enough; and now for your
plans, Malcolm."
"Our plans must be left to chance, Angus. We came
hither to see whether any of the colonel's friends are still
in the regiment, and to learn from them whether they
have any news whatever of him; and secondly, whether
they can tell us aught of his mother."
"Ay, there are six or eight officers still in the regiment
who served with him. Hume is our colonel now; you will
remember him, Malcolm, well, for he was captain of our
troop; and Major Macpherson was a captain too. Then
there are Oliphant, and Munroe, and Campbell, and Gra-
ham, all of whom were young lieutenants in your time,
and are now old captains of troops."
"I will see the colonel and Macpherson," Malcolm said;
"if they do not know, the younger men are not likely to.
Will you go along with us, Angus, and introduce me,
though Hume is like enough to remember me, seeing that
I was.so much with Leslie?"
"They will be dining in half an hour," the sergeant said;
"we'll go after they have done the meal. It's always a
good time to talk with men when they are full, and the
colonel will have no business to disturb him theh. Our
own- dinner will be ready directly; I can smell a goose that
I picked up, as it might be by accident, at the place where

Ilk A I

Malcolm and Ronald reconnoiter the convent of Our Lady.-Page 100.

-Bonnie Prince Charlie.


I i-------
-~Sir-- --


we halted last night. There are four or five of us old sol-
diers who always mess together when we are not on duty
with our troops, and if I mistake not, you will know every
one of them, and right glad they will be to see you; but
of course I shall say no word as to who the lad is, save that
he is a friend of yours."
A few minutes later four other sergeants dropped in,
and there was a joyful greeting between them and Malcolm
as soon as they recognized his identity. The meal was a
jovial one, as old jokes and old reminiscences were recalled.
After an hour's sitting Angus said: _
"Pass. round the wine, lads, till we come back again. I
am taking Anderson to the colonel, who was captain of his
troop. We are not likely to be long, and when we come
back we will make a night of it in honor of old times, or I
am mistaken."
On leaving the cottage they waited for awhile until they
saw the colonel and major rise from'beside the fire round
which, with the other officers, they had been taking their
meal, and walk to the cottage which they shared between
them. Angus went up and saluted.
"What is it, Grmme?" the colonel'asked.
"There's one here who would fain have a talk with you.
It is Malcolm Anderson, whom you may remember as puir
Colonel Leslie's servant, and as being in your own troop,
and he has brought one with him concerning whom he
will speak to you himself."
"Of course I remember Anderson," the colonel said.
"He was devoted to Leslie. Bring him in at once. What
can have brought him out here again after so many years?
been getting into some trouble at home, I suppose? He
was always in some scrape or other when he was in the
regiment, for, though he was a good soldier, he was as
wild and reckless a blade as any in the regiment. You
remember him, Macpherson?"


"Yes, I remember him well," the major said. "The
colonel was very fond of him and regarded him almost as
a brother."
A minute later Angus ushered Malcolm and Ronald
into the presence of the two officers, who had now taken
seats in the room which served as kitchen and sitting-room
to the cottage, which was much the largest in the village.
"Well, Anderson, I am glad to see you again," Colonel
Hume said, rising and holding out his hand. "We have
often spoken of you since the day you disappeared, saying
that you were going on a mission for the colonel, and have
wondered what the mission was, and how it was that we
never heard of you again."
"I came over to Paris four years later, colonel, but the
regiment was away in Flanders, and as I found out from
others what I had come to-learn, there was no use in my
following you. As to the colonel's mission, it was this;"
and he put his hand on Ronald's shoulder.
"What do you mean, Anderson?" the colonel asked in
"This is Colonel Leslie's son, sir. He bade me fetch
him straight away from the folk with whom he was living
and take him off to Scotland so as to be out of reach of his
foes, who would doubtless have made even shorter work
with him than they did with the colonel."
"Good heavens!" the colonel exclaimed; "this is news
indeed. So poor Leslie left a child and this is he! My
lad," he said, taking Ronald's hand, "believe me that any-
thing that I can do for you, whatever it be, shall be done,
for the sake of your dear father whom I loved as an elder
"And I too," the major said. "There was not one of
us but would have fought to the death for Leslie. And
now sit down, my lad, while Anderson tells us your story."
3Malcolm began at the account of the charge which


Colonel Leslie had committed to him, and the manner in
which he had fulfilled it. He told them how he had
placed the child in the care of his brother, he himself
having no fixed home of his own, and how the lad had
received a solid education, while he had seen to his learn-
ing the use of his sword so that he might be able to follow
his father's career. He then told them the episode of the
Jacobite agent, and the escape which had been effected in
the Thames.
"You have done well, Anderson," tihe colonel said when
he had concluded; "and if ever Leslie should come to see his
son he will have cause to thank you, indeed, for the way
in which you have carried out the charge he committed to
you, and he may well be pleased at seeing him grown such
a manly young fellow. As to Leslie himself, we know not
whether he be alive or dead. Every interest was made at
the time to assuage his majesty's hostility, but the influ-
ence of the Marquis of-Recambours was too strong, and
the king at last peremptorily forbade Leslie's name being
mentioned before him. You see, although the girl's father
was, of. course, at liberty to bestow her hand on whomso-
ever he pleased, he had, with the toadyism of a courtier,
asked the king's approval of the match with Chateaurouge,
which, as a matter of course, he received. His majesty,
therefore, chose to consider it as a personal offense against
himself that this Scottish soldier of fortune should-carry off
one of the richest heiresses of France, whose hand he had
himself granted to one of his peers. At the same time I
cannot but think that Leslie still lives, for had he been
dead we should assuredly have heard of the marriage of
his widow with some one else. The duke has, of course,
- long since married, and report says that the pair are ill-
matched; but another husband would speedily have .been'
found for the widow."
"Since the duke has married," Ronald said, "he should

no longer be so bitter against my father, and -perhaps after
*so long an imprisonment the king might be moved to
grant his release."
"As the duke's marriage is an unhappy one, I fear that
you cannot count upon his hostility to your father being
in any way lessened, as he would all the more regret the
interference with his former plans."
"Have you any idea where my mother is, sir?"
"None," the colonel said. "But that I might find out
for you. I will give you a letter to the Count de Noyes,
who is on intimate terms with the Archbishop of Paris,
- who would, no doubt, be able to tell him in which convent
the lady is residing. You must not be too sanguine, my
poor boy, of seeing her, for it is possible that she has
already taken the veil. Indeed, if your father has died,
and she has still refused to accept any suitor whom the
marquis may have found for her, you may be sure that
she has been compelled to take the veil, as her estates
would then revert to the nearest kinsman. This may, for
aught we know, have happened years ago, without a word
of it being bruited abroad, and the affair only known to
those most concerned. However, we must look at the
best side. We shall be able, doubtless, to learn through
the archbishop whether she is still merely detained in the
convent or has taken the veil, and you can then judge
accordingly whether your father is likely to be alive or
dead. But as to your obtaining an interview with your
mother, I regard it as impossible in the one case as the
"At any rate, it is of the highest importance that it
should not be known that you are in France. If it is
proved that your father is dead and your mother is secluded
for life, we must then introduce you to her-family, and
try and get them to bring all their influence to bear to
have you acknowledged openly as the legitimate heir of



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