As may well be supposed, he cared little for the illuminations except as evidencing the goodwill of the townsfolk, but he was struck by the picturesque appearance of the old houses when thus lighted up. After several halts from one cause or other, he and Atherton at last reached the market-place. Here, in the centre of the area, was a large bonfire, with a great crowd collected round it. Moreover, a barrel of ale, provided by the magistrates, had just been broached, enabling the crowd to drink the prince's health, coupled with that of his august sire, James the Third, in flowing cups. Much amused by the scene, Charles stopped to look at it, as well as to examine the curious picture presented by the illuminated market-place. While he was thus occupied, a sudden movement in the throng separated him from his attendant, and he was endeavouring to free himself from the press when a strong grasp was laid upon his arm. The person who had thus seized him was no other than Sergeant Dickson. "Unmuffle, and show your face, if you be not ashamed of it," cried the sergeant. "I suspect you are a Hanoverian spy. I have heard there are some in the town, and you don't look like a Highland officer." "Hands off, fellow," said the prince, authoritatively. "Help me out of the crowd." "Help you to escape! not I!" cried Dickson. "Unmuffle, I say, and let us see your face." Several of the bystanders now called out, "A spy! a spy!" and Charles would have been unpleasantly circumstanced, if Helen Carnegie, who was near the sergeant, had not interposed. "You are wrong, Erick," she cried. "This is no spy. Release him." But the sergeant was not inclined to part with his prisoner, and was only prevented from plucking the covering from his face by Atherton, who by this time had forced his way up. A word breathed in the ear of the sergeant instantly changed the complexion of affairs, and he was now just as anxious to get the prince off as he had before been to detain him. "All right," he shouted. "His royal highness has not a better friend than this noble gentleman. I'll answer for him. Stand back! stand back! my masters, and let the gentleman pass." Vigorously seconding these injunctions with his strong arm, he cleared a way for the prince, who was soon out of the crowd; and this being accomplished, the sergeant humbly besought pardon for his maladroit proceeding. "You ought to have known me under any disguise, sergeant," was the prince's good-natured reply. "You are not half so sharp-witted as Helen. She knew me at once." "I canna take upon mysel to declare that, your highness," replied the Scottish lassie, who had followed in their wake; "but I ken'd fu' weel ye were na a fawse spy, but a leal gentleman." "Well, sergeant, I am willing to overlook your fault for Helen's sake," said Charles. "I shall na sae readily forgive mysel," replied the sergeant. "But in truth my thoughts were runnin' on spies. May I be permitted to attend your highness?"