p would not be ready to sail for another eight days--by
which time, of course, Montrose's life would be forfeit--he found his
bird flown; for the exile and a friend had disguised themselves and put
off one morning in a small boat to the larger vessel that was waiting
for them, and in a week were safe across the North Sea at Bergen.

* * * * *

But Norway was merely a stepping-stone to Paris, where the queen of
England was living under the protection of her sister-in-law, Anne of
Austria, and of the young king Louis XIV. The handsome pension allowed
her in the beginning gradually ceased when the civil war of the Fronde
broke out in 1648, and, as we know, she was found one day by a visitor
sitting with her little girl, whom she had kept in bed because she could
not afford a fire. And even at this time, in 1647, she always spent
whatever she had, so from one cause or another no money was forthcoming
to help Montrose, who perhaps did not understand the situation, and
thought that she was unkind and careless of her husband's welfare. As
often before, he spoke out his feelings when he would have done better
to be silent, and pressed on the queen advice that was not asked for,
and may not have been possible to follow. Yet, if he felt that there was
no place for him in the little English court, ample evidence was given
him of the high respect in which he was held elsewhere. The all-powerful
minister, cardinal Mazarin, desired to enlist him in the French service,
and the greatest nobles paid court to him. Montrose, however, was not
the sort of man to find healing for his sorrows in honours such as
these. He gave a grateful and courteous refusal to all proposals, and
bidding farewell to his hosts, made his way to the Prague to offer his
sword to the emperor Ferdinand. Like the rest, the emperor received him
warmly, and created him a field-marshal, but there was no post for
Montrose in the Austrian army, and in the end he joined some friends in
Brussels, whence he kept up an intimate correspondence with Elizabeth of
Bohemia, Charles I.'s sister, who was staying at the Hague with her
niece, Mary of Orange, and the young prince of Wales.

There in February arrived the news of the king's execution, and when he
heard it Montrose vowed that the rest of his life should be spent in the
service of his son, and in avenging his master. Charles II. did not like
him; he was too grave and too little of a courtie