THE scene shifts to the shores of a remote loch in the Western Highlands of Scotland. Great, gloomy hills rise from the water’s edge; the whole aspect of the place is wild and solitary. At the head of the loch is a little plain, from which a narrow, rocky glen runs far inland. Not a soul is in sight; not a sound breaks the stillness. Now you see a small company of men appear on the plain. In the centre of them is a gallant young soldier, tall and slim, with a high, broad forehead, a shapely nose, rich, dark-brown eyes, and chestnut hair. He carries himself right nobly, and you feel as you gaze upon him that here at last is a real hero of romance. Full of hope and eager anticipation he comes upon the scene; but as he waits, and the minutes lengthen into hours, his light-hearted gaiety gives place to dejection. The glen remains silent and deserted. Those who have sworn to meet here have not kept tryst. The young prince—for such he is—retires with a sinking heart to the shelter of a barn. Suddenly he hears the faint sound of distant bagpipes. His eyes light up, he springs to his feet, and hastily quits his shelter. His heart beats fast as he listens. Louder and louder grows the sound of the pibroch, and now on the skyline of yonder hill you see Lochiel with seven or eight hundred Camerons. As soon as they sight the prince they raise loud huzzas, which echo and re-echo from the hills. The clansmen form up, and the feeble old Marquis of Tullibardine, supported by a man on each side, proudly unfurls a royal standard. As its white, blue, and red folds lift upon the wind, cheer after cheer is raised, and the greatest enthusiasm prevails. A commission of regency is read, and the prince, baring his head, makes a brief but gallant speech. “I knew,” he says, “that I should find in Scotland brave gentlemen, fired with the noble example of their predecessors, and jealous of their own and their country’s honour, to join me in so glorious an enterprise. For my own part I do not doubt of bringing the affair to a happy issue.” The cheers which greet the prince’s speech have scarcely died away before the Macdonalds, to the number of three hundred, arrive. Others follow, and before the camp fires are lighted fifteen hundred men have sworn to follow the prince to the death.