The Flight of Georgiana: A Story of Love and Peril in England in 1746Stephens, Robert Neilson
History
The Flight of Georgiana: A Story of Love and Peril in England in 1746
Stephens, Robert Neilson
Great Britain -- History -- George II, 1727-1760 -- Fiction
“Only your fancy, Will. Why should we excite more curiosity than any
other two travellers?” said Charles. “What is so extraordinary in our
appearance? Come, I’ve asked you a hundred times, and you can’t answer.
Your constitutional prudence, your natural cautiousness, which you know
I vastly admire and try to emulate—”
Will smiled at this.
“Those excellent traits of thine, dear lad,” Charles went on, “cause you
to magnify things, or rather to transfigure them altogether, so that, if
anybody looks at us, you see suspicion where there is really nothing but
the careless curiosity of a moment. Where he says in his mind,
‘Strangers,’ you can almost hear him saying with his lips, ‘Jacobites.’”
“Hush! You may laugh as you please, Charles: prudence and caution, even
carried to excess, are likelier to serve our turn than carelessness and
boldness, till we are safe out of England.”
“Why, there again! You are more apprehensive a thousand times since we
have crossed the border than you were during all the time in Scotland,
all the hiding time, and the time of dodging enemies on the alert for us
in every direction.”
“I confess it. As one nears the end of a difficult or dangerous
business, one should be the more fearful of disaster. Think how it may
turn to naught all the toils that have brought one so far. Never relax
because the goal is in sight: if you trip at the last, and through your
own folly, too, ’tis the more to be regretted.”
“All true, my dear Roughwood; and yet, for our peace of mind, ’tis
comforting to think how much safer we really are in England than we were
across the border. Nobody expects to find Jacobites on the highroads of
England.”
“There have been far too many seen on the highroads of England lately,”
said Roughwood, with a gloomy smile.
“Ah, yes, the poor fellows now at Carlisle and York,” replied Charles;
“but Jacobites uncaught are a different matter. They are all thought to
be skulking in the Highlands, the Duke of Cumberland’s soldiers closing
nearer and nearer round them. Heaven send that the Prince may escape!
Would that his chances were as good as ours! ’Tis probable every mile of
the Scottish coast is patrolled by government vessels, as every foot of
the Highlands is hunted over by regulars and militia—or will be hunted
over, ere all is done. ’Twas high time we left our quarters among the
rocks and heather, and a miracle of good luck that we slipped through
the enemy’s lines and across the border. England is the safer land for
us, and vastly easier to escape from by sea.”
Their talk was interrupted by the entrance of the landlady, who took
their orders for dinner, after which meal they intended to resume their
journey. When they were again alone, Charles continued:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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