The morning was bright and clear, and the country looked so charming that the earl determined to extend his ride along the banks of the Tyne as soon as his business at Corbridge was finished; but he had not quitted the avenue when a horseman entered it, who was evidently proceeding to the castle. This person might be a courier, for he rode a posthorse, and was followed by a post-boy, who carried his portmanteau; and there was nothing in his grey riding-dress to indicate rank. He had pistols in his girdle, and a hanger by his side. But he rode well, though provided only with a sorry hack, and had a military bearing. In age he could not be more than three-and-twenty, if so much. He was rather above the middle height, and slightly built, and his features were handsome and expressive. On seeing the earl and his brother the stranger immediately slackened his pace, and rode slowly towards them. Lord Derwentwater gazed at him in astonishment, and as if he could scarcely believe his eyes. At length he turned to his brother and exclaimed: “By Heaven, 'tis he!” “He! who?” cried Charles Radclyffe. “The Chevalier de Saint George,” replied the earl, under his breath. “Impossible!” said the other. “He would never come here in this manner, and without giving us some notice of his design.” “'Tis the prince, I repeat,” cried Derwentwater; “I cannot be mistaken. But the greatest caution must be observed, or the postboy's suspicions may be aroused.” Next moment the stranger came up, and respectfully saluting the earl, told him he was the bearer of an important despatch, whereupon Lord Derwentwater invited him to the castle, and turning round, proceeded in that direction, keeping the supposed courier near him, while Charles Radclyffe, who had now recognised the stranger from his likeness to the portraits of the prince, rode at a little distance behind them. The meeting was so cleverly managed that the grooms saw nothing extraordinary in it, and the post-boy was completely duped. “I never had a harder task than to repress my delight at beholding your majesty,” said Lord Derwentwater. “You have indeed taken me by surprise.” “Had it been possible I would have given you some intimation of my arrival and intended visit to you,” replied the prince, “but I only landed at Sunderland yesterday, and came on betimes this morning. Do not imagine I am come to summon you to arms, though my partisans in Scotland are ready to rise, and would at once join my standard were I to display it. No, cousin, my errand is pacific.” “Pacific!” exclaimed the earl. “My purpose is to obtain an interview with my sister, Queen Anne; and if I succeed, I believe no insurrection will be necessary, for I am persuaded she will agree to appoint me her successor. You must accompany me to London, cousin.”