Tis in the service of the Prince. The rest of us are kent (known) men and
canna gang."

Grouped behind Malcolm were now gathered the Prince, Raasay, and Miss
Flora. To me as a focus came all eyes. I got to my feet in merry humour.

"Ma foi! Ulysses as a wanderer is not to be compared with me. When do I
set out, Major?"

"At skreigh-o'-day (daybreak). And the sooner you seek your sleep the
better. Best say good-night to the lassies, for you'll need be wide awake
the morn twa-three hours ere sun-up. Don't let the redcoats wile (lure)
you into any of their traps, lad. You maunna lose your head or----"

"----Or I'll lose my head," I answered, drolling. "I take you, Major; but,
my word for it, I have not, played hide-and-go-seek six months among your
Highland lochs and bens to dance on air at the last."

The Prince drew me aside. "This will not be forgotten when our day of
power comes, Montagu. I expected no less of your father's son." Then he
added with a smile: "And when Ulysses rests safe from his wanderings at
last I trust he will find his Penelope waiting for him with a true
heart."

Without more ado I bade Miss Macdonald and Aileen good-bye, but as I left
the room I cast a last look back over my shoulder and methought that the
lissome figure of my love yearned forward toward me tenderly and
graciously.

CHAPTER XII

VOLNEY PAYS A DEBT

There are some to whom strange changes never come. They pursue the even
tenor of their way in humdrum monotony, content to tread the broad safe
path of routine. For them the fascination of the mountain peaks of giddy
chance has no allurement, the swift turbulent waters of intrigue no charm.
There are others with whom Dame Fortune plays many an exciting game, and
to these adventure becomes as the very breath of life. To such every
hazard of new fortune is a diversion to be eagerly sought.

Something of this elation seized me--for I am of this latter class--as
Murdoch and his gillies rowed me across the sound to Skye in the darkness
of the early morning. It was a drab dawn as ever I have seen, and every
tug at the oars shot me nearer to the red bloodhounds who were debouched
over the island. What then? Was I not two years and twenty, and did I not
venture for the life of a king's son? To-day I staked my head on luck and
skill; to-morrow--but let the future care for her own.

In a grove of beeches about half a mile from Portree we landed, and
Murdoch gave the call of th