ANSWER.--Lady Clanronald did furnish them with some bottles of milk, and the Prince (in the passage) putting the bottle to his head, drank in common with those on board _Jock-fellow-like_. Lady Clanronald had but one half-bottle of wine (there being so many demands upon her, particularly from parties of the military) which she likewise caused to be put on board the boat. The Prince in the passage would not allow any person to share in this small allowance of wine, but kept it altogether for Miss MacDonald's use, lest she should faint with the cold and other inconveniences of a night passage. 6.--To the proceeding questions Dr. Burton was pleased to [Sidenote: _fol._ 544.] add one of his own, which is what length of time there happened to be betwixt the Prince's leaving Kingsburgh's house and Captain Ferguson's coming thither to search for him? ANSWER.--About six or seven days; so that the Prince behoved by that time to be actually upon the continent. * * * * * _N.B._--Miss Flora MacDonald was upon the 28th of November 1746 put on board the _Royal Sovereign_ lying at the Nore, and upon the 6th of December following, was removed to London and put into the custody of Mr. Dick, a messenger, in whose hands were likewise Dr. Burton, Æneas MacDonald, Malcolm MacLeod, Clanronald, senior, Boisdale, etc. But Lady Clanronald was not allowed to be in the same messenger's house with her husband. ROBERT FORBES, A.M. _TOWNLY'S[269] GHOST, Etc._[270] [269] Francis Townly, Esquire, of an honourable family in Lancashire, was Colonel of the Manchester regiment, and one of the nine English gentlemen that suffered first upon Kennington Common, July 30th, 1746. [See _Scots Magazine_ for July, pp. 326-330.] [270] The verses are printed with some variations in 'Manchester Collectanea, Chetham Society,' vol. lxviii. p. 235. When Sol in shades of night was lost, [Sidenote: _fol._ 545.] And all was fast asleep, In glided murder'd Townly's ghost And stood at William's feet. Awake, infernal wretch, he cried, And view this mangled shade, That in thy perjur'd faith relied And basely was betray'd.[271] Embrew'd in bliss, embath'd in ease, Tho' now thou seem'st to lie, My injur'd form shall gall thy peace, And make thee wish to die. Fancy no more in pleasing dreams Shall frisk before thy sight, But horrid thoughts and dismal screams Attend thee all the night. [Sidenote: _fol._ 546.] Think on the hellish acts thou 'st done, The thousands thou 'st betray'd; Nero himself would blush to own The slaughter thou hast made. Nor infants' cries, nor parents' tears Could stay thy bloody hand, Nor could the ravisht virgins' fears Appease thy dire command.