eturned, in answer, that he should be proud to see them. On the
twenty-sixth of July, 1745, they went, and were entertained at dinner
with the liberal courtesy which always shone forth under that roof. One
of the Duke's footmen, meantime, having espied an armed force about the
house, called his Grace to the door of the room, and begged him to take
care of himself. This caution was even repeated more than once; but the
Duke, trusting that others were like himself, only smiled, and said he
did not think that any gentleman "could be guilty of so dirty an
action." But he found that he was mistaken. After dinner, when the
officers had drunk a little, they took courage to inform the Duke of
their errand; and, to confirm their statement, one of them drew the
warrant out of his pocket. The Duke behaved with great presence of mind;
he received their summons calmly, but begged permission to retire to a
closet in the room where they were sitting, to get himself ready. This
was assented to: the Duke went into the closet, in which, however, there
was a door; he opened it and, slipping down a flight of stairs, escaped
to a wood adjacent to his Castle. This wood was already surrounded by an
armed force, and he was obliged to crawl on his hands and feet to avoid
being observed by the sentinels. In such a situation he was hindered and
wounded by briers and thorns, and at last was obliged to hide himself in
a dry ditch from his pursuers. They were, indeed, misled by the servants
at the Castle, who, upon their inquiring for the fugitive, declared
that he had gone away on horseback. The officers however on their return
to Crieff, where they were quartered, passed so near the place where he
lay, that he heard what they were saying. When all the soldiers were out
of sight, he sprang up; and seeing a countryman with a pony, having no
bridle, but only a halter about its neck, he begged to have the use of
it, and his request was granted. After this, he first rode to the house
of Mr. Murray of Abercairney, and afterwards to that of Mr. Drummond of
Logie. Here he was saved by one of those presentiments of evil which one
can neither explain nor deny. In the dead of night he was awakened by
his host, who begged the Duke to take refuge elsewhere; for fears, which
he could not account for, haunted his mind. The fugitive arose from his
bed, and set off elsewhere. Shortly afterwards the house was invaded by
a party of armed men, who came to search for him