rose to the height
of heroes--by some artful self-complacency he was ever sure to ascribe
these to the great cause they fought for; or, oftener still, to his own
commanding influence and the fascination of his presence. In the midst
of all, however, would break forth some traits that bespoke a nobler
nature. In one of these was it that he alluded to the proposition of
Cardinal Tencin, to make the cession of Ireland the price of the French
adhesion to his cause. 'No, no, Monsieur le Cardinal,' cried he several
times energetically; '_tout ou rien!_ _tout ou rien!_... Must not my
cause have been a poor one, when he dared to make me such an offer? Ay,
Kelly, and I swear to you he did so!'

These last words were the first that showed a consciousness of the
other's presence.

'The Dutchman was better than that, George, eh?--a partition of the
kingdom!--never, never. Ireland, too! The very men who stood truest to
me--the very men who never counselled retreat. Think of Lovatt, George.
If you had but seen him that day! He could not bide the time I took to
eat a morsel of breakfast, so eager was he to be rid of me. I laughed
outright at his impatience, and said that he remembered but the worst
half of the old Highland adage which tells you "to speed the parting
guest." He never offered me a change of linen, George, and I had worn
the same clothes from the day before Culloden. "Wae's me for Prince
Charlie!"'

'It's a proud thing for me to hear how you speak of my countrymen,
sire,' said Kelly.

'Glorious fellows they were, every man of them!' cried the Prince with
enthusiasm. 'Light-hearted and buoyant, when all others looked sad and
downcast; always counselling the bold course, and readier to do than say
it! I never met--if I ever heard of--but one Irishman who was not a man
of honour. _He_ was enough, perhaps, to leaven a whole nation--a low,
mean sycophant, cowardly, false, and foul-tongued; a fellow to belie you
and betray you--to track you into evil that others might stare at you
there. I never thought ill of mankind till I knew him. Do you know whom
I mean--eh, George?'

'Faith, if the portrait be not intended for myself, I am at a loss to
guess,' said Kelly good-humouredly.

'So it is, you arch-scoundrel; and, shameless though you be, does it
never occur to you how you will go down to posterity? The corrupter of a
Prince; the fellow who debauched and degraded him!'

'Isn't it something that posterity will ever hear