ver disposed to
resist Kelly in any proceeding, they were carried very nearly to
insubordination, as they saw him conducting through the long line of
salons the humbly-clad, barefooted friar, who, with his arms reverently
crossed on his breast, threw stealthy glances, as he passed, at the
unwonted splendour around him.

'I hope, sir,' said Fra Luke respectfully, 'that your kindness to a
poor countryman won't harm yourself; but if ever you were to run the
risk, 'tis an occasion like this might excuse it.'

'What do you mean?' said Kelly hastily, and staring him full in the
face.

'Why, that the petition I hold here is about one that has the best blood
of Ireland in his veins; but maybe, for all that, if you knew what was
in it, you mightn't like to give it.'

Kelly paused for a few seconds, and then, as if having formed his
resolution, said:

'If that be the case, Luke, it is better that I should not see it.
There's no knowing when my favour here may come to an end. There's not
a morning breaks, nor an evening closes, that I don't expect to hear I'm
discarded, thrown off, abandoned. Maybe it would bring me luck if I was
to do one, just _one_, good action, by way of a change, before I go.'

'I hope you've done many such afore now,' said Luke piously.

Kelly did not reply, but a sudden change in his features told how
acutely the words sank into his heart.

'Wait for me here a minute,' said he; and motioning to Luke to be
seated, he passed noiselessly into the chamber of the Prince.

CHAPTER IV. THE PRINCE'S CHAMBER

Brief as Kelly's absence had been, it was enough to have obliterated
from the Prince's mind all the reasons for his going. No sooner was he
alone than he drank away, muttering to himself, as he filled his glass,
snatches of old Jacobite songs--words of hope and encouragement; or
at times, with sad and broken utterance, phrases of the very deepest
despondency.

It was in this half-dreamy state that Kelly found him as he entered.
Scotland--Rome--the court of France--the chateau at St. Germains--the
shelling where he sought refuge in Skye--the deck of the French
privateer that landed him at Brest--were, by turns, the scenes of his
imagination; and it was easy to mark how, through all the windings of
his fancy, an overweening sense of his own adventurous character upheld
and sustained him. If he called up at times traits of generous devotion
and loyalty--glorious instances wherein his followers