needed sleep. From morn
till late at night, whether in castle or house or journeying from clan
to clan, he was always in company. There was no time for old thoughts,
memories, surmises. That was one world and he was now in another.

Upon the eleventh day of May, the year 1745, was fought in Flanders
the battle of Fontenoy. The Duke of Cumberland, Koenigsegge the
Austrian, and the Dutch Prince of Waldeck had the handling of
something under fifty thousand English. Marshal Saxe with Louis XV at
his side wielded a somewhat larger number of French. The English and
their allies were beaten. French spirits rode on high, French
intentions widened.

The Stewart interest felt the blood bound in its veins. The bulk of
the British army was on the Continent and shaken by Fontenoy; King
George himself tarried in Hanover. Now was the time--now was the time
for the heir of all the Stewarts to put his fortune to the touch--to
sail from France, to land in Scotland, to raise his banner and draw
his sword and gather Highland chief and Lowland Jacobite, the while in
England rose for him and his father English Jacobites and soon, be
sure, all English Tories! France would send gold and artillery and men
to her ancient ally, Scotland. Up at last with the white Stewart
banner! reconquer for the old line and all it meant to its adherents
the two kingdoms! In the last week of July Prince Charles Edward,
somewhat strangely and meagerly attended, landed at Loch Sunart in the
Highlands. There he was joined by Camerons, Macdonalds, and Stewarts,
and thence he moved, with an ever-increasing Highland _tail_, to
Perth. A bold stream joined him here--northern nobles of power, with
their men. He might now have an army of two thousand. Sir John Cope,
sent to oppose him with what British troops there were in Scotland,
allowed himself to be circumvented. The Prince, having proclaimed his
father, still at Rome, James III, King of Great Britain, and produced
his own commission as Regent, marched from Perth to Edinburgh. The
city capitulated and Charles Edward was presently installed in
Holyrood, titularly at home in his father's kingdom, in his ancient
palace, among his loyal subjects, but actually with far the major
moiety of that kingdom yet to gain.

The gracious act of rewarding must begin. Claim on royal gratitude is
ever a multitudinous thing! In the general manifoldness, out of the
by no means yet huge store of honey Ian Rullock, for mere first rung