Her future was in a way provided for. The Cardinal Tencin, in spite of being somewhat out of favour now and retired to his archbishopric of Lyons--for when a French prelate was in disgrace his punishment was that he should attend to his diocese instead of being in Paris!--had still entire influence over the exiled Stuarts. Therefore it was to him that Archibald Sholto applied on behalf of Kate, and through him that she was to be appointed to the small court now being formed round Charles Edward in Paris. That unhappy prince--though fortunate in some things, especially in his escape from Scotland after the rebellion--had now landed at Roscort, three leagues west of Morlaix, from the "Bellona," of St. Malo, and was safe once more in Paris. His adventures since the defeat of Culloden had been truly marvellous, and his escapes not less so; twice he was in danger of being shot, five times in danger of being drowned, nine times he was pursued by men of war and armed vessels of King George, and six times he escaped being captured by what seemed to be miracles. Also he had been almost famished for want of food and drink, and had had to lie out on the bare heaths or wild mountains and to shelter in caves. Yet now he had entered Paris again, had been graciously welcomed by the French King and Queen, and was in treaty for a fine house in the Quartier St. Germain. It was to that house that Kate, with her father, was to go, there to form two of his small court. At first when she took up her residence in it she was happy. She was among friends she had known in Paris, many of them also comrades of Bertie who had fought in the last invasion and themselves escaped. The Lords Ogilvie and Elcho were there with the ladies of their family; there, too, were old Lochiel and young Lord Lewis Gordon; the young Lochiel also, and Captain Stafford, who had lain long in Newgate in irons, yet was now escaped and free. Also she was happy because Bertie was able to come and see her, and on one occasion, with all the others, including herself, accompanied the prince when he went to pay his respects to Louis at Versailles. "Faith, Kate," he whispered to her on that evening, when, Charles Edward being at supper with the royal family, they strolled together up and down the mirrored galleries of the palace, "'tis even better than the old days, were it not that dear Douglas has left us," and he sighed. "But," he went on, "you are provided for--that, at least, is well, or as well as things are ever likely to be." She said, "Yes, it is well, so far." Then she continued: "Still, Bertie, I am unhappy." "Unhappy?" "Yes. Unhappy because I never know when that man--my husband--may cross my path again. Oh, if I could be sure I should never see him more!"