, and his face looked like death.

"The Prince-- Did he escape?" I asked. "I saw him last trying to stem the
tide, with Sheridan and O'Sullivan tugging at his reins to induce a
flight."

The Macleod nodded. "They passed through the town not five minutes ago."

I asked him whether he had seen anything of Captain Roy Macdonald, and he
told me that he had last seen him lying wounded on the field. I had him
describe to me accurately the position, and rode back by a wide circuit
toward Drummossie Moor. I had of course torn off the white cockade and put
it in my breast so as to minimize the danger of being recognized as a
follower of the Prince. My heart goes to my throat whenever I think of
that ride, for behind every clump of whins one might look to find a
wounded clansman hiding from the riders of Cumberland. By good providence
I came on Captain Macdonald just as three hussars were about to make an
end of him. He had his back to a great stone, and was waiting grimly for
them to shoot him down. Supposing me to be an officer of their party the
troopers desisted at my remonstrance and left him to me. Donald Roy was
wounded in the foot, but he managed to mount behind me. We got as far as
the wall of the park when I saw a party of officers approaching. Hastily
dismounting, we led the horse behind a nest of birches till they should
pass. A few yards from us a sorely wounded Highland officer was lying.
Macdonald recognized him as Charles Fraser, younger of Inverallachie, the
Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fraser regiment and in the absence of the Master
of Lovat commander. We found no time to drag him to safety before the
English officers were upon us.

The approaching party turned out to be the Duke of Cumberland himself,
Major Wolfe, Lord Boyd, Sir Robert Volney, and a boy officer of Wolfe's
regiment. Young Fraser raised himself on his elbow to look at the Duke.
The Butcher reined in his horse, frowning blackly down at him.

"To which side do you belong?" he asked.

"To the Prince," was the undaunted answer.

Cumberland, turning to Major Wolfe, said,

"Major, are your pistols loaded?"

Wolfe said that they were.

"Then shoot me that Highland scoundrel who dares look on me so
insolently."

Major Wolfe looked at his commander very steadily and said quietly: "Sir,
my commission is at the disposal of your Royal Highness, but my honour is
my own. I can never consent to become a common executioner."

The Duke purpled, and bu