is new friend.

The wild and desolate island of Rasay offered the Prince a comparatively
secure hiding-place, and the three MacLeods had both the will and the
power to protect him, and to provide a reasonable amount of comfort for
him. But a kind of restlessness seems to have come over the Prince at
this time. It was only by being constantly on the move that he could
escape from anxious and painful thoughts. Possibly he may have felt a
little insecure in the midst of the Clan MacLeod (though he had met
nowhere with more devotion than that of the three cousins); he certainly
seems to have bestowed far more affection and confidence on Malcolm than
on the other two.

On Thursday he insisted on starting for Skye, in spite of the entreaties
of the young MacLeods, nor would he turn back when a storm broke and
threatened to overwhelm them. It was night before they landed at
Trotternish, a night such as had become familiar to the Prince, dark and
chill and pouring with rain. They made for a byre on the property of Mr.
Nicholson of Scorobeck. Young Rasay went on in front to see that no one
was there. 'If there had been anyone in it, what would you have done?'
he asked the Prince rather reproachfully; for Charles's self-will and
foolhardiness must at times have been very trying to those who were
risking life and estate for him. In the byre they lighted a fire, dried
their clothes, and slept for some hours. The next day, Rona being away,
the Prince asked Murdoch if he would accompany him into the country of
the Mackinnons in the south of Skye (the old chief of that clan had been
in the Prince's army, and Charles felt that he would be safe amongst
them). Murdoch's wound prevented his undertaking such a journey--it was
thirty miles over the wildest part of Skye--but Malcolm could go, and
his cousin assured the Prince that he could nowhere find a more faithful
and devoted servant. So the pair set out in the morning for their wild
tramp. To prevent discovery the Prince affected to be Malcolm's
servant, walked behind him, and, further to disguise himself, put his
periwig in his pocket and bound a dirty cloth round his head--a disguise
specially calculated, one would think, to excite attention. The two
young men talked frankly and confidentially, making great strides in
friendship as they went along. Once a covey of partridges rose, and,
with a true British instinct for sport at all hazards,[7] the Prince
raised his gun and would have