mysterious manner desired his wife to rise without delay, and attend to the comforts of their guests.

Though little imagining that the Prince was her guest, yet, from Kingsburgh's sententious manner, Mrs. Macdonald seems to have suspected that her husband had brought home with him some person of rank and importance who had been deeply implicated in the late troubles. Accordingly, having risen from bed, she sent down her little girl to the hall for her keys; but the latter soon came running back to the apartment more alarmed than before. She could not go in for the keys, she said, for the "muckle woman" was walking up and down the hall, and she was afraid of her; and accordingly Mrs. Macdonald was compelled to go and fetch them herself.

When she entered the apartment, Charles was seated at the end of it. He immediately rose and saluted her, and she was not a little surprised and alarmed when she felt a man's rough beard brushing her cheek. Not a word was exchanged between them; but her suspicions were now confirmed, and hastening to her husband, she expressed her conviction that the pretended female was some unfortunate gentleman who had escaped from Culloden, and inquired whether he had brought any tidings of the Prince? My dear," said Kingsburgh, taking both his wife's hands in his own, "it is the Prince himself." "The Prince!" she exclaimed in the greatest terror; "then we are all ruined; we shall all be hanged now!""Never mind,” he replied, “we can die but once; and if we are hanged for this, we shall die in a good cause, in performing an act of humanity and charity." He then desired her to get ready as soon as possible some eggs, butter, and cheese, and whatever else the house afforded. Eggs, butter, and cheese!" she ex

claimed, "what a supper is that for a Prince ?"

'—"Wife," he replied, "you little know how he has fared of late; our supper will be a feast to him; besides, if we were to make it a formal meal, it would rouse the suspicions of the servants, and you must therefore make haste with what you can get, and come to supper yourself." To this latter proposal Lady Kingsburgh made a fresh objection: "Me come to supper!" she exclaimed, "I ken naething how to behave before Majesty."-"You must come," replied her husband; "for the Prince would not eat a bit without you, and he is so obliging and easy in conversation that you will find it no difficult matter to behave before him."

At supper Charles sat with Flora Macdonald on his right hand, and Lady Kingsburgh on his left. He appeared in excellent spirits, and made a plentiful supper; "eating," we are told, "four eggs, some collips, and bread and butter, and drinking two bottles of beer." He then called for a bumper of brandy, and drank joyously to "the health and prosperity of his landlord and landlady, and better times to them all." After supper he produced a small pipe, the only one which he ever made use of, which is described as having been "as black as ink, and worn or broken to the very stump." He had suffered much, he said, from toothache during his wanderings, and tobacco usually alleviated the pain.

After Lady Kingsburgh and Flora Macdonald had retired, Kingsburgh made some punch in a small China bowl, which was several times replenished in the course of the evening. At length, it being three o'clock in the morning, Kingsburgh reminded the Prince how important it was that he should rise early on the following day, and earnestly entreated him to retire to rest. Charles, how

ever, notwithstanding his fatigues, and the length of time which had elapsed since he had enjoyed the luxury of a bed, was so delighted with the conversation of his warmhearted host and with his excellent punch, that he insisted on having another bowl. Kingsburgh now became positive in his turn, and even rose to put away the bowl. Charles, however, still good-humouredly, though pertinaciously, demanded a fresh supply, and in attempting to snatch the bowl from Kingsburgh's hands, it was broken into two pieces. The dispute was by this means settled, and the Prince no longer insisted on sitting up.

To use Charles's own words, he "had almost forgotten what a bed was," and so grateful was the luxury, that though he seldom rested more than four or five hours, yet on this occasion he slept for ten; his considerate host, notwithstanding the remonstrances of Miss Macdonald, refusing to allow him to be disturbed till one o'clock on the following day. Although it had been decided that he should resume his male attire, yet, in order that the servants at Kingsburgh should be kept in ignorance of his next disguise, it was determined that he should quit the house in the same costume in which he had entered. As soon as he had dressed himself, Lady Kingsburgh and Flora Macdonald were summoned to his apartment to put on his cap and apron, and to dress his head. The former afterwards told her friends that he laughed heartily during the process, with the same glee as if he had been putting on women's clothes merely for a frolic. "O, Miss," he said to Flora Macdonald, "you have forgotten my apron; give me an apron, for it is a principal part of my dress." Before Miss Macdonald put on his cap, Lady Kingsburgh spoke to her in Gaelic, to ask the Prince for a lock of his hair. She declined doing so, but

on Charles inquiring what they were talking of, she mentioned Lady Kingsburgh's request. He immediately laid his head on the lap of his fair preserver, and told her to cut off as much as she pleased. She severed a lock, half of which she presented to Lady Kingsburgh, and the rest she kept herself.

From Kingsburgh Charles obtained the acceptable present of a pair of new shoes. Taking up the old pair which Charles had cast off, Kingsburgh tied them together, and hung them carefully on a peg, remarking that they might yet stand him in good stead. The Prince inquiring of him the meaning of his words,-"Why," he said, "when you are fairly settled to St. James's, I shall introduce myself by shaking these shoes at you, to put you in mind of your night's entertainment and protection under my roof." These relics of the Prince's wanderings were preserved with religious care by Kingsburgh as long as he lived, and after his death were cut to pieces, and given from time to time by his family to their Jacobite friends. "It is in the recollection of one of his descendants," says Chambers, "that Jacobite ladies often took away the pieces they got in their bosoms."

Having thanked Lady Kingsburgh for all her kindness, and accepted from her a small "mull," or snuff-box, as a "keepsake," he proceeded, under the guidance of his host and Flora Macdonald, in the direction of Portree, where he hoped to find a boat in readiness to convey him to Raasay. As soon as he had quitted the house, Lady Kingsburgh ascended to his bedroom, and taking the

* This is a much more probable account than that given by Boswell, in his Tour to the Hebrides, that after Kingsburgh's death, "a zealous Jacobite gentleman gave twenty guineas for them."

sheets which he had used from the bed, declared that they should never again be used or washed during her life, and should serve as her winding-sheet when she was dead. She subsequently was induced to give one of them to Flora Macdonald, who carried it with her to America, and, agreeably with her dying wish, it was wrapped round her in the grave.

Having advanced to a safe distance from Kingsburgh, Charles entered a wood, where he changed his female attire for a Highland dress. He then took an affectionate leave of Kingsburgh, who, as well as himself, shed tears at parting. While they were bidding each other adieu, a few drops of blood fell from the Prince's nose, which alarmed Kingsburgh for a moment, but Charles assured him that such was always the case when he parted from those who were dear to him. Having parted from Kingsburgh, the wanderer, attended by Niel Mackechan, and with a boy for their guide, again set out on his journey, leaving Flora Macdonald to proceed to Portree by a different route. The clothes which he had taken off were hidden by Kingsburgh in a bush. He subsequently removed them to his own house, but from fear of their being 'discovered by the militia, he was induced to burn the whole except the gown. "The preservation of the gown," says Chambers," was owing to his daughter, who insisted on keeping it as a relic of their Prince, and because it was a pretty pattern. A Jacobite manufacturer, of the name of Carmichael, at Leith, afterwards got a pattern made from it, and sold an immense quantity of cloth, precisely similar in appearance, to the loyal ladies of Scotland."

For the protection which Kingsburgh afforded the unfortunate Prince, he was made to suffer severely. A few