oke the silence of the night. The hackney
coach before mentioned had deposited its load of deputies at the council
chamber and was returning to its stable-yard in the Canongate. A word to
the watchmen within and the gates swung on their heavy hinges. In rushed
the body of Camerons, secured the bewildered watchmen, and in a few
minutes had seized the city guard-house and disarmed the soldiers. Then
they struck up the wild pibroch 'We'll awa' to Sheriffmuir to haud the
Whigs in order,' and startled citizens rushing to their windows saw in
the dim twilight the streets filled with plaids and bonnets. The
conquerors visited all the outposts as quietly as if they were troops
relieving guard. A citizen strolling along by the wall early next
morning found a Highland soldier astride on one of the cannons, 'Surely
you are not the same soldiers who were here yesterday?' 'Och no!' was
the answer with a grave twinkle, 'she be relieved.'

At noon Prince Charles rode to Holyrood by way of Arthur's Seat and
Salisbury Crags. He was on foot as he approached the ancient home of his
race, but the large and enthusiastic crowd which came out to meet him
pressed so closely upon him in their eagerness to kiss his hand, that he
had to mount a horse, and rode the last half mile between the Duke of
Perth and Lord Elcho. A gallant young figure he must have appeared at
that moment--tall and straight and fresh-coloured, in a tartan coat and
blue bonnet, with the cross of St. Andrew on his breast. As he was about
to enter the old palace of Holyrood, out of the crowd stepped the noble
and venerable figure of Mr. Hepburn of Keith. He drew his sword, and,
holding it aloft, with grave enthusiasm marshalled the Prince up the
stairs. It was surely a good omen; no man in Scotland bore a higher
character for learning, goodness, and patriotism than Mr. Hepburn; he
was hardly less respected by the Whigs than the Jacobites.

That same afternoon, at the old Cross in the High Street, with pomp of
heralds and men-at-arms, James VIII. was proclaimed king, and his son's
commission as regent was read aloud to the listening crowd. Loud huzzas
almost drowned the wild music of the bagpipes, the Highlanders in
triumph let off their pieces in the air, and from every window in the
high houses on each side ladies fluttered their white handkerchiefs.
Beside the Cross, beautiful Mrs. Murray of Broughton sat on horseback, a
drawn sword in one hand, while with the other she dis