ed, but there was no movement on the
part of the English forces. On the 17th the Prince's horse reconnoitred
and reported perfect inactivity in Hawley's camp. The infatuated general
thought so lightly of the enemy that he was giving himself up to
amusement.

The fair and witty Lady Kilmarnock lived in the neighbourhood at
Callender House. Her husband was with the Prince, and she secretly
favoured the same cause. By skilful flattery and hospitality, she so
fascinated the English general that he recklessly spent his days in her
company, forgetful of the enemy and entirely neglectful of his soldiers.

Charles knew that the strength of his army lay in its power of attack,
and so resolved to take the offensive. The high road between Bannockburn
and Falkirk runs in a straight line in front of an old and decaying
forest called Torwood. Along this road, in the face of the English camp,
marched Lord John Drummond, displaying all the colours in the army, and
making a brave show with the cavalry and two regiments. Their advance
was only a feint. The main body of the army skirted round to the south
of the wood, then marched across broken country--hidden at first by the
trees and later by the inequalities of the ground--till they got to the
back of a ridge called Falkirk Muir, which overlooked the English camp.
Their object was to gain the top of this ridge before the enemy, and
then to repeat the manoeuvres of Prestonpans.

Meanwhile, the English soldiers were all unconscious, and their general
was enjoying himself at Callender House. At eleven o'clock General
Huske, the second in command, saw Lord John Drummond's advance, and sent
an urgent message to his superior officer. He, however, refused to take
alarm, sent a message that the men might put on their accoutrements, and
sat down to dinner with his fascinating hostess. At two o'clock, General
Huske, looking anxiously through his spy-glass, saw the bulk of the
Highland army sweeping round to the back of the ridge.

A messenger was instantly despatched to Callender House. At last Hawley
was aroused to the imminence of the danger. Leaving the dinner table, he
leaped on his horse and arrived in the camp at a gallop, breathless and
bare-headed. He trusted to the rapidity of his cavalry to redeem the
day. He placed himself at the head of the dragoons, and up the ridge
they rode at a smart trot. It was a race for the top. The dragoons on
their horses were the first to arrive, and st