shelter fixed for to-night. It will not do to tarry here till it grows
dark."

They rose and proceeded, following Malcolm, who acted as guide. The
place was deserted, and Betty stepped out with a stride of most
unmaidenly length, as if to gain relief from her late restraint. Her
manner now would have revealed the secret to any shrewd observer. The
ungainly maid-servant was evidently a man in disguise.

We cannot follow their journey closely. It will suffice to say that the
awkwardness of the assumed Betty gave rise to suspicion on more than one
occasion in the next day or two. It became evident that, if the secret
of the disguised personage was not to be discovered, they must cease
their wanderings; some shelter must be provided, and a safer means of
progress be devised.

A shelter was obtained,--one that promised security. In the base of the
basaltic cliffs of which we have spoken many caverns had been excavated
by the winter surges of the sea. In one of these, near the village of
Portree, and concealed from too easy observation, the travellers found
refuge. Food was obtained by Malcolm from the neighboring settlement,
and some degree of comfort provided for. Leaving her disguised companion
in this shelter, with Malcolm for company, Flora went on. She had
devised a plan of procedure not without risk, but which seemed
necessary. It was too perilous to continue as they had done during the
few past days.

Leaving our travellers thus situated, we will go back in time to
consider the events which led to this journey in disguise. It was now
July, the year being 1746. On the 16th of April of the same year a
fierce battle had been fought on Culloden moor between the English army
under the Duke of Cumberland and the host of Highlanders led by Charles
Edward Stuart, the "Young Pretender." Fierce had been the fray, terrible
the bloodshed, fatal the defeat of the Highland clans. Beaten and
broken, they had fled in all directions for safety, hotly pursued by
their victorious foes.

Prince Charles had fought bravely on the field; and, after the fatal
disaster, had fled--having with him only a few Irish officers whose good
faith he trusted--to Gortuleg, the residence of Lord Lovat. If he hoped
for shelter there, he found it not. He was overcome with distress; Lord
Lovat, with fear and embarrassment. No aid was to be had from Lovat,
and, obtaining some slight refreshment, the prince rode on.

He obtained his next rest and repa