s astonished when I saw the change which came over my
Uncle Drummond. I never supposed he could get so excited about anything
which had to do with earth. And yet his first thought was to connect it
with Heaven. [Note 1.]

I shall never forget the ring of his prayer that night. An exile within
sight of home, a prisoner to whom the gates had just been opened, might
have spoken in the words and tones that he did.

"Lord, Thou hast been gracious unto Thy land!" "Let them give thanks
whom the Lord hath redeemed, and delivered from the hand of the enemy!"
That was the key-note of every sentence.

I found, before long, that I had caught the complaint myself. I went
about singing, "The King shall ha'e his ain again," and got as hot and
eager for fresh news as anybody.

"Oh dear, I hope the Prince will conquer the Elector before I go to
London," I said to Flora: "for I do not know whatever Grandmamma will
say if I go to her in this mood. She always says there is nothing so
vulgar as to get enthusiastic over anything. You ought to be calm,
composed, collected, and everything else which is cold and begins with
C."

Flora laughed, but was grave again directly.

"I expect, Cary, your journey to London is a long way off," said she.
"How are you to travel, if all the country be up, and troops going to
and fro everywhere?"

"I am sure I don't care if it be," said I. "I would rather stay here, a
great deal."

I thought we were tolerably warm about the Prince's landing, at
Abbotscliff; but when I got to Monksburn, I found the weather still
hotter. The Laird is almost beside himself; Mr Keith as I never saw
him before. Annas has the air of an inspired prophetess, and even Lady
Monksburn is moved out of her usual quietude, though she makes the least
ado of any. News came while we were there, that Sir John Cope had been
so hard pressed by the King's army that he was forced to fall back on
Inverness; and nothing would suit the Laird but to go out and make a
bonfire on the first hill he came to, so as to let people see that
something had happened. The Elector, we hear, has come back from
Hanover, and his followers are in a panic, I hope they will stay there.

Everybody agrees that the army will march southwards at once after this
victory, and that unless my journey could take place directly, I shall
have to stay where I am, at least over the winter. The Laird wishes he
could get Annas out of the way. If I were going,