eed, no difficult matter to discern in the person of Charles
Edward the handsome and princely youth who had presided over the Court
at Holyrood. He had discarded the old black kilt, philibeg, and
waistcoat which he had worn at Loch Arkeg, for a coarse, brown, short
coat: a new article of dress, such as a pair of shoes and a new shirt,
had lately replenished his wardrobe. He had a long red beard, and wore a
pistol and dirk by his side, carrying always a gun in his hand. Yet "the
young Italian," as the Whigs delighted to call him, had braved the
rigours of his fate, and thriven beneath the severities of the Scottish
climate. His spirits were good; his frame, originally slender, had
become robust: he had fared in the rudest manner, and had acquired the
faculty of sleeping soundly, even with the dread of a surprise ever
before him.

Lochiel, on the other hand, was lame, and had suffered long from his
close quarters, and from anxiety and sorrow. Tradition has brought down
to us the accounts of the chief's personal beauty. Though fair, he was
not effeminate; his countenance was regular and expressive. But those
attributes which completed the romance of Lochiel's character must have
been almost obliterated during these months of trial, infirm health, and
uncured wounds. His spirit was not yet subdued. Eventually that noble
heart was broken by all that it had endured, but, at that epoch of his
eventful life, it still throbbed with hope.

When Lochiel perceived that it was Charles Edward who approached, he
made the best of his way, though lame, to receive his Prince. "The joy
at this meeting," writes Clunie, "is much easier to be conceived than
described." Lochiel attempted to kneel. "Oh no, my dear Lochiel!" cried
the Prince; "we do not know who may be looking from the top of yonder
hills; and if they see any such motions, they will conclude that I am
here." Lochiel then shewed him into his habitation, and gave him the
best welcome that he could: the Prince, followed by his retinue, among
whom were the two outlaws, or "broken men," who had succoured him, and
whom he had retained in his service, entered the hut.[294] A repast,
almost amounting to a feast in the eyes of these fugitives, was prepared
for them, having been brought by young Breackachie. It consisted of a
plentiful supply of mutton; an anker of whiskey, containing twenty
Scots' pints; some good beef sausages, made the year before; with plenty
of butter and cheese, b