ar into Badenoch, where Lochiel and Macpherson of
Cluny were hiding.

A curious incident is supposed to have helped the Prince at this time.
There had been among his Life Guards a handsome youth named Roderick
Mackenzie, son of a jeweller in Edinburgh, who in face and figure was
startlingly like the Prince. This lad was actually 'skulking' among the
Braes of Glenmoriston at the time when the Prince was surrounded in
Knoydart. A party of soldiers tracked him to a hut, which they
surrounded. Flight was impossible, and the poor boy stood at bay. As he
fell beneath their sword-thrusts he cried out, 'Villains, ye have slain
your King.' Whether these words were a curious last flash of vanity, or
whether he intended to serve the Prince by a generous act of imposture,
can never be known. The soldiers at any rate believed that they had
secured the prize. They carried off Mackenzie's head with them to Fort
Augustus, and the authorities seem for some time to have been under the
impression that it was indeed that of the Prince. Possibly it was owing
to this that in the middle of August the Government rather relaxed their
vigilance along the Great Glen. Charles was eager to press at once into
Badenoch, but the wary outlaws would only consent to taking him to the
Lochiel country, between Loch Arkaig, Loch Lochy, and Loch Garry. They
travelled chiefly by night; the season was very wet, and the rivers were
in flood, and they had to cross the River Garry Highland fashion in a
line, with each man's arm on his neighbour's shoulder, for the water was
running breast-high.

At this time the Prince's condition was as bad as at any period of his
wanderings. His clothes were of the coarsest, and _they_ were in rags.
Lady Clanranald's six good shirts had long since disappeared; it was as
much as he could do to have a clean shirt once a fortnight. The
provisions they carried were reduced to one peck of meal. In this state
did the Prince arrive in the familiar country round Loch Arkaig. It was
a year almost to the day since he had passed through that very country
elate and hopeful at the head of his brave Macdonalds and Camerons. He
was now a fugitive, ill-fed, ill-clad, with a price on his head; the
only thing that was unchanged was the faithful devotion of his
Highlanders.

Cameron of Clunes and Macdonald of Lochgarry, or Lochgarie, though they
were themselves 'skulking,' received the Prince with the utmost kindness
and found a hiding-place f