ora, and therefore her
natural protector. Over and over he urged us to be careful and to do
nothing rash. The Prince smilingly answered him with a shred of the
Gaelic.

"Bithidh gach ni mar is aill Dhiu." (All things must be as God will have
them.)

The blackness of the night was a thing to be felt. Not the faithful
Achates followed AEneas more closely than did we the Macleod. No sound came
to us but the sloshing of the rain out of a sodden sky and the noise of
falling waters from mountain burns in spate (flood). Hour after hour while
we played blindly follow-my-leader the clouds were a sieve over our
devoted heads. Braes we breasted and precipitous heathery heights we
sliddered down, but there was always rain and ever more rain, turning at
last into a sharp thin sleet that chilled the blood.

Then in the gray breaking of the day Malcolm turned to confess what I had
already suspected, that he had lost the way in the darkness. We were at
present shut in a sea of fog, a smirr of mist and rain, but when that
lifted he could not promise that we would not be close on the campfires of
the dragoons. His fine face was a picture of misery, and bitterly he
reproached himself for the danger into which he had led the Prince. The
Young Chevalier told him gently that no blame was attaching to him; rather
to us all for having made the attempt in such a night.

For another hour we sat on the dripping heather opposite the corp-white
face of the Macleod waiting for the mist to lift. The wanderer exerted
himself to keep us in spirits, now whistling a spring of Clanranald's
march, now retailing to us the story of how he had walked through the
redcoats as Miss Macdonald's Betty Burke. It may be conceived with what
anxiety we waited while the cloud of moisture settled from the mountain
tops into the valleys.

"By Heaven, sir, we have a chance," cried Malcolm suddenly, and began to
lead the way at a great pace up the steep slope. For a half hour we
scudded along, higher and higher, always bearing to the right and at such
a burst of speed that I judged we must be in desperate danger. The Prince
hung close to the heels of Malcolm, but I was a sorry laggard ready to die
of exhaustion. When the mist sank we began to go more cautiously, for the
valley whence we had just emerged was dotted at intervals with the
campfires of the soldiers. Cautiously we now edged our way along the
slippery incline, keeping in the shadow of great rocks and broom