At that, getting rather red in the face, Rob uttered a thin squeal such as a wounded rabbit gives, like the squeal of a rat for shrillness. Again and again he made it, but nothing moved in the broken place under the bank. "None so bad," said the stranger, and distending his lips he sent forth such a screech that it froze Rob's blood. In it was the terror of the chase--the fear of what was following, and the drawing of blood. And before their eyes, not four feet away, at the very first note the lithe form of a weasel leapt quivering upon the heather. "It takes a deal of practice," said the stranger gentleman for fear he might seem overproud. But Rob was utterly crushed. Back dived the weasel for his lair, and lying down, the stranger told Rob of the ways of wild things until it was dusk. Presently without so much as a good-day but only a nod he buttoned his coat and crossing the burn set off up the hill, and Rob saw him no more, at least not for two full years and over, not indeed until the Jacobites came to Inverness in the year '46. It was about nine of the clock on the morning of February the 18th, 1746, that two horsemen rode into the town of Inverness. Now there might seem nothing strange in that, but rather in the manner of their coming, which was at a headlong gallop. Rob Fraser, hurrying to the Grammar School, had scarce time to leap aside as they careered up Church Street, their beasts in a lather with sweat. Rob gave them one quick glance as they thundered by, noting that one had lost his hat, and the other his stirrup-irons; that both horses were fresh, grass fed beasts new from the fields, and then, on swift, light feet he sped in pursuit. The Grammar School saw little of Rob when promise of news was going. For it must be told that in the year 1746 Inverness was in a rare tumult, and none knew just how the future lay. In August of the preceding year Prince Charles Edward Stuart had landed in Scotland, had won the clans to his banner, had defeated the Government forces at Prestonpans, and had marched into England. Receiving no support in the south, he returned to the north with his gallant little army. Then came the second victory at Falkirk, and the retreat towards Inverness with the Duke of Cumberland on their trail. It was at such a time that two horsemen galloping recklessly through the streets of Inverness were bound to create a commotion. None could say what would befall within the next few weeks. Inverness was Jacobite by instinct; but there was no pleasant flavour about the word "rebel." In truth, the good people of the town were at their wits' end to know which way to cry. But not so Rob Fraser. Despite the opinions of his father, despite the sour words of Ephraim Macaulay, the schoolmaster, and the dour face of the minister--Rob Fraser was a Jacobite beyond recall.