. The true story book . lds of Badenoch thespring comes but slowly, and through April on to May the mountainsare as black and the moors as sombre and lifeless as in the dead ofwinter. In a, remote corner of this wild track stood, in 1746, a grey,stone house with marsh-lands in front, severe and meagre as thehouses were at that time in the Highlands. Upstairs in a room byherself a little girl of ten was looking out of the window. She hadbeen sent up there to be out of the way, for this was a very busyday in the household of Gortuleg. The Master, Mr. Fraser, wasentertaining the chief of his clan
. The true story book . lds of Badenoch thespring comes but slowly, and through April on to May the mountainsare as black and the moors as sombre and lifeless as in the dead ofwinter. In a, remote corner of this wild track stood, in 1746, a grey,stone house with marsh-lands in front, severe and meagre as thehouses were at that time in the Highlands. Upstairs in a room byherself a little girl of ten was looking out of the window. She hadbeen sent up there to be out of the way, for this was a very busyday in the household of Gortuleg. The Master, Mr. Fraser, wasentertaining the chief of his clan, old Lord Lovat, who, in theseanxious days, when the Prince was at Inverness and the Duke of CHARLIES WANDEBINGS Cumberland at Aberdeen, had thought fit to retire into the wildsof Badenoch, to the house of his faithful clansman. Downstairs, the astute old man of eighty was sitting in his arm-rluiir by the fire, plotting how he could keep in with both partiesand secure his own advantage whichever side might win. By some. strange infatuation the household at Gortuleg were cheerful andelate. A battle was imminent, nay, might have been fought evennow, and they were counting securely on another success to thePrinces army. So the ladies of the family—staunch Jacobitesevery one of them (as, indeed, most ladies were even in distinctly 70 PRINCE CHARLIES WANDERINGS Whig households)—were busy preparing a feast in honour of theexpected victory. The little girl sat alone upstairs, hearing the dinand commotion and looking out on the vacant marsh-land and completely the noise ceased below, and the childseized her opportunity and crept downstairs. All was still in thebig living-room, only in the dim recess of the fireplace the old lordwas sitting, a silent, brooding figure, in his deep armchair. Therest of the household, men and women, gentle and simple, wereall crowded in the doorway, breathlessly intent on something out-side. Threading her way through them the child cr
Size: 1372px × 1821px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdec, bookpublisherlondon, booksubjecthistory
