Perhaps history can best remind the reader of what followed. How, after some further but slighter peril, Charles Stewart was guided, by other devoted friends, by way of Bowalder and Auchnagarry, to the Castle of Lochiel and the longed-for sea-coast--one can read this for himself. There rode at anchor--oh, sight of inexpressible comfort!--the two French vessels _L'Heureux_ and _La Princesse de Conti,_ sent by the exiled Chevalier from Morlaix Harbor, France, and waiting until the fugitive's approach, so frequently despaired of. In _L'Heureux,_ on the night of September 20, 1746, Charles Stewart embarked for France, with one hundred and thirty other exiled and beggared followers. From its deck, nine days later, did the unfortunate heir to the throne of the Stewarts step to the beach at Roscoff, near Morlaix--able, for the first time in weary months, to draw a free breath and look about him in perfect safety; his hopes of a kingdom broken at his back like egg-shells. But history, which seldom has space for such trifles, does not state that ever at the Prince's side, upon sea or land, from the hour of his departure from Glenmoriston and its outlaws, there was a Highland lad, toward whom the exile showed a quiet care and affection, never for an instant relaxed, and of a sort that won the notice of all who encountered them. Little was said of his antecedents or his story. The Prince desired no questions upon the matter; but he and his gallant looking _protégé_ seemed inseparable even in private. And when the fugitive made that almost royal entrance to Fontainebleau to meet Louis XV., in a carriage following his own, clad in deep mourning, rode Andrew Boyd, usually spoken of as "that young Scotchman--the special confidential secretary of the Prince." With Charles, Andrew led a busy and somewhat varied life for the next few years, while his noble protector flitted, now to one European city, now another; until Charles succeeded, through the agency of some Scotch acquaintances, in providing substantially for Andrew and, at the same time, in having restored to him the lands of Windlestrae. Thereupon, grown to man's estate, Andrew built again a Manor House, and even collected about him some of the old servants. Thither, too, did he bring home, not long after, a fair French bride. Never was a cheerfuller wedding, or one that prophesied more truly of the calm and happy years to follow it, for the bride and groom. But on the marriage-day, as he stood proudly admiring his young wife's rich costume, Andrew was heard to sigh; and when she demanded the reason, he replied, gently, "Alas! dear heart, thy knots of white ribbon mind me of so many White Cockades! Thou hast many fair white roses, yonder--hide thy love-knots with them!" TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE Obvious printing errors have been silently corrected throughout. Otherwise, inconsistencies and possible errors have been preserved.