Bonnie Prince Charlie; A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden

CHAPTER XII: The End of the Quarrel.

“This is a serious business, Leslie,” the colonel said in a low voice.

“If it had been anyone but you I should have ordered him to the barracks at once under pain of arrest, and have laid the matter before the king, for it would have been nothing short of murder. But I can trust you to hold your own even against the Duke of Chateaurouge. And, in truth, after what has been said, I do not see that you can do other but meet him.”

“I would not avoid it if I could,” Ronald said. “His insults to me do not disturb me; but I have my father’s wrongs to avenge.”

“Forbes,” the colonel said to one of the other officers, “do you go straight to the barracks, bid Leslie’s man saddle his own horse and his master’s instantly, and bring them round outside the wall of the park. If Leslie wounds or kills his man he will have to ride for it.”

The officer at once hurried away.

“Ronald, I will tell you a piece of news I heard this morning. The young Chevalier left Paris secretly five days ago, and I have received certain private information this morning that he has gone to Nantes, and that he is on the point of sailing for Scotland on his own account. I am told that this plan of his is known to but five or six persons. If you get safely through this business mount and ride thither at all speed. They are more likely to pursue you towards the frontier or the northern ports, and will not think you have made for Nantes. If you get there before the prince has sailed, present yourself to him and join his expedition. The king will be furious at first, both at the loss of his favourite and the breaking of the edicts; but he must come round. The gentlemen here with the duke are all honourable men, and were, I could see, shocked at the insult which the duke passed on you. Therefore I can rely upon them to join me in representing the matter in its true light to the king. Before you return, the matter will have blown over, and it may be that the removal of your father’s most powerful enemy may facilitate an arrangement. In any case, my dear boy, you can rely upon the marshal and myself to look after your interests.”

They had now reached a wicket gate in the wall of the park. The duke was standing a few paces distant, having already removed his coat and turned up the shirt sleeve of the sword arm.

“You will act as second, marquis?” he said to one of the gentlemen.

The latter bowed coldly.

“I act as second to my friend Leslie,” Colonel Hume said. “And I call upon you all, gentlemen, to bear witness in the future, that this encounter has been wantonly forced upon him by the Duc de Chateaurouge, and that Cornet Leslie, as a man of honour, has no alternative whatever but to accept the challenge forced upon him.”

Ronald had by this time stripped to his shirt sleeves. The seconds took the two swords and compared their length. They were found to be as nearly as possible the same. They were then returned to their owners. A piece of even turf was selected, and a position chosen in which the light was equally favourable to both parties. Then both fell into position on guard, and as the rapiers crossed Colonel Hume said solemnly:

“May God defend the right!”

An instant later they were engaged in deadly conflict. It lasted but a few seconds. The duke, conscious of his own skill, and believing that he had but a lad to deal with, at once attacked eagerly, desirous of bringing the contest to a termination before there was any chance of interruption. He attacked, then, carelessly and eagerly, and made a furious lunge which he thought would terminate the encounter at once; but Ronald did not give way an inch, but parrying in carte, slipped his blade round that of the duke, feinted in tierce, and then rapidly disengaging, lunged in carte as before. The blade passed through the body of his adversary, and the lunge was given with such force that the pommel of his sword struck against the ribs. The duke fell an inert mass upon the ground as Ronald withdrew the rapier.

An exclamation of surprise and alarm broke from the three gentlemen who had accompanied the duke, while Colonel Hume said gravely:

“God has protected the right. Ah! here come the horses! Mount and ride, Leslie, and do not spare the spurs. I should advise you,” he said, drawing him aside, “to take the northern route for a few miles, so as to throw them off the scent. When you get to Nantes search the inns till you find the Duke of Athole, he is an intimate friend of mine, and it was from him I learned in strict secrecy of the prince’s intentions. Show him this ring, he knows it well, and tell him I sent you to join him; say nothing at first as to this business here. Your own name and my name will be enough. He will introduce you to Prince Charlie, who will be with him under a disguised name. May God bless you, my lad! We will do our best for you here.”

At this moment Malcolm arrived with the two horses.

“Thank God you are safe, Ronald!” he exclaimed as Ronald leapt into his saddle, and with a word of thanks and adieu to the colonel dashed off at full speed.

Colonel Hume then rejoined the group gathered round the duke. The Scottish officers were looking very grave, the courtiers even more so.

They had from the first recognized fully that the duel had been provoked by the duke, and had accompanied him reluctantly, for they regarded the approaching conflict as so unfair that it would excite a strong amount of feeling against all who had a hand in the matter. As to the edict against duelling, it had not concerned them greatly, as they felt sure that with the duke’s influence the breach of the law would be passed over with only a show of displeasure on the part of the king, and an order to absent themselves for a short time from court. The contingency that this young Scottish officer, who had scarcely yet attained the age of manhood, should kill one of the best swordsmen in France had not occurred to them; but this had happened, and there could be no doubt that the king’s anger, alike at the loss of his favourite and at the breach of the law, would fall heavily on all concerned, and that a prolonged exile from court was the least evil they could expect. Not a word had been spoken after they had, on stooping over the duke, found that death had been instantaneous, until Colonel Hume joined them.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said; “this is a bad business, and means trouble for us all. His majesty will be vastly angry. However, the duke brought it upon himself, and is the only person to blame. His character is pretty well known, and it will be manifest that if he had made up his mind to fight no remonstrance on your part would have availed to induce him to abstain from doing so. At the same time the king will not, in the first burst of his anger, take that into consideration, and for awhile we shall no doubt all of us suffer from his displeasure; but I do not think that it will be lasting. The duke forced on the duel, and would have fought within the royal park had we not interfered, and we were in a way forced to be present. I propose that we return to the palace and give notice of what has occurred. Captain Forbes, as you were not present at the affair, and will not therefore be called upon to give any account of it, will you remain here until they send down to fetch the body?

“We will, if you please, gentlemen, walk slowly, for every mile that Leslie can put between him and Versailles is very important. The news will reach the king’s ears very shortly after we have made it public. You and I, marquis, as the seconds in the affair, are sure to be sent for first. As, fortunately, we were both present at the quarrel we are both in a position to testify that the duke brought his fate upon himself, that there was no preventing the duel, and that had we refused to act he was in a frame of mind which would have driven him to fight without seconds if none had been forthcoming; lastly, we can testify that the combat was a fair one, and that the duke fell in consequence of the rashness of his attack and his contempt for his adversary, although in point of fact I can tell you that young Leslie is so good a swordsman that I am confident the result would in any case have been the same.”

“I suppose there’s nothing else for it,” the marquis grumbled. “I must prepare myself for a prolonged visit to my country estates.”

“And I shall no doubt be placed under arrest for some time,” Colonel Hume said; “and the regiment will probably be packed off to the frontier again. However, these things don’t make much difference in the long run.

What I am most anxious about, marquis, is that his majesty should thoroughly comprehend that Leslie was not to blame, and that this affair was so forced upon him that it was impossible for him to avoid it. There is much more than the lad’s own safety dependent on this.”

“You may be sure, colonel, that I will do him justice.”

At a slow pace the party proceeded until they neared the palace, when they quickened their steps. The marquis proceeded immediately to the apartments occupied by the duke, and told his domestics that their master had been killed in a duel, and directed them to obtain assistance and proceed at once to the spot where his body would be found. The colonel went to the king’s surgeon, and told him of what had taken place.

“His death was instantaneous,” he said; “the sword passed right through him, and I believe touched the heart. However, it will be as well that you should go and see the body, as the king will be sure to ask particulars as to the wound.”

The rest of the party joined their acquaintances, and told them what had happened, and the news spread quickiy through the palace. It created a great sensation. Breaches of the edict were not unfrequent; but the death of so powerful a noble, a chief favourite, too, of the king, took it altogether out of the ordinary category of such events. The more so since the duke’s reputation as a swordsman and a duellist was so great that men could scarce believe that he had been killed by a young officer who had but just joined the regiment. It seemed like the story of David and Goliath over again. A quarter of an hour later a court official approached Colonel Hume and the Marquis de Vallecourt, who were standing together surrounded by a number of courtiers and officers.

“Monsieur le Marquis and Colonel Hume,” he said, saluting them; “I regret to say that I am the bearer of the orders of his majesty that you shall deliver me your swords, and that you will then accompany me to the king’s presence.”

The two gentlemen handed over their swords to the official, and followed him to the king’s presence. Louis was pacing angrily up and down his apartment.

“What is this I hear, gentlemen?” he exclaimed as they entered. “A breach of the edicts here at Versailles, almost in the boundaries of the park; and that the Duc de Chateaurouge, one of my most valued officers and friends has been killed; they tell me that you acted as seconds in the affair.”

“They have told your majesty the truth,” the marquis said; “but I think that, much as we regret what has happened, we could scarcely have acted otherwise than we did. The duke drew in the first place within the limits of the park, and would have fought out his quarrel there had we not, I may almost say forcibly, intervened. Then he strode away towards the boundary of the park, calling upon his antagonist to follow him; and had we not gone the encounter would have taken place without seconds or witnesses, and might then have been called a murder instead of a duel.”

“You should have arrested him, sir,” the king exclaimed, “for drawing in the park.”

“Perhaps we should have done so, sire; but you must please to remember that the Duke of Chateaurouge was of a temper not to be crossed, and I believe that bloodshed would have taken place had we endeavoured to thwart him. He enjoyed your majesty’s favour, and a forcible arrest, with perhaps the shedding of blood, in the royal demesne would have been a scandal as grave as that of this duel.”

“How did it come about?” the king asked abruptly.

“The duke was walking with De Lisle, St. Aignan, and myself, when we suddenly came upon Colonel Hume with three of the officers of his regiment. The duke at once walked up to them and addressed Colonel Hume, and finding which of his companions was Monsieur Leslie, addressed him in terms of so insulting a nature that they showed that he had been waiting for the meeting to provoke a quarrel. The young officer replied perfectly calmly, but with what I must call admirable spirit and courage, which so infuriated the duke, that, as I have already had the honour of telling your majesty, he drew at once, and when we interfered he called upon him to proceed forthwith outside the park, and there settle the quarrel. We most reluctantly accompanied him, and determined to interfere at the first blood drawn; but the affair scarcely lasted for a second. The duke threw himself furiously and rashly upon the lad, for as your majesty is aware, he is but little more. The latter, standing firm, parried with admirable coolness, and in an instant ran the duke right through the body.”

“But I have always heard,” the king said, “that the duke was one of the best swordsmen in the army.”

“Your majesty has heard correctly,” Colonel Hume replied; “but young Leslie is one of the best swordsmen in France. The duke’s passion and rashness led to the speedy termination of the duel; but had he fought with his accustomed coolness I believe that Leslie would have turned out his conqueror.”

“But what was the cause of the quarrel? Why should the Duc de Chateaurouge fix a dispute, as you tell me he did, upon this officer of yours?”

“I believe, sire, that it was a long standing quarrel. The duke’s words showed that he bore an enmity against the lad’s father, and that it was on this account that he insulted the son.”

“Leslie!” the king exclaimed, with a sudden recollection. “Is that the youth whom Marshal Saxe presented to me?”

“The same, sire; the lad who distinguished himself at Fontenoy, and whom the Marshal afterwards appointed to a commission in my regiment, in which he had served as a gentleman volunteer for nearly a year.”

“These Leslies are always causing trouble,” the king said angrily. “I have already given orders that he shall be arrested wherever he is found, and he shall be punished as he deserves.”

“In punishing him,” Colonel Hume said with grave deference, “I am sure that your majesty will not forget that this quarrel was forced upon him, and that, had he accepted the insults of the Duke of Chateaurouge, he would have been unworthy to remain an officer of your majesty.”

“Silence, sir!” the king said angrily. “You will return immediately to Paris, under arrest, until my pleasure in your case is notified to you. I shall at once give orders that your troops here are replaced by those of a regiment whose officers will abstain from brawling and breaking the edicts in our very palace. Marquis, you will retire at once to your estates.” The two gentlemen bowed and left the royal presence.

“Not worse than I expected,” the marquis said, after the door had closed behind them. “Now he will send for St. Aignan and De Lisle, and will hear their account, and as it cannot but tally with ours the king must see that the duke brought his fate upon himself. Louis is not unjust when his temper cools down, and in a few weeks we shall meet again here.”

“I expect to be on the frontier with my regiment before that,” Colonel Hume replied; “but as I would rather be there than in Paris that will be no hardship.”

Colonel Hume at once mounted and rode back to Paris and proceeded straight to the hotel of Marshal Saxe, to whom he communicated what had occurred.

“If Leslie gets safely away it will, perhaps, all turn out for the best,”

the marshal said. “As soon as the king’s anger dies out I will begin to plead the cause of the boy’s parents; and now that the influence of Chateaurouge the other way is withdrawn, I may hope for a more favourable hearing. As to the lad himself, we will make his peace in a few months.

The king is brave himself, as he showed when under fire at Fontenoy, and he admires bravery in others, and when he has once got over the loss of Chateaurouge he will appreciate the skill and courage which the lad showed in an encounter with one of the most noted duellists in France.

Now, too, that the duke has gone, some of the stories to his disadvantage, of which there are so many current, are likely to meet the king’s ears. Hitherto no one has ventured to speak a word against so powerful a favourite; but the king’s eyes will soon be open now, and he will become ashamed of so long having given his countenance to a man who is generally regarded as having not only killed half-a-dozen men in duels, but as having procured the removal, by unfair means, of a score of others. When he knows the truth the king is likely to do justice, not only to young Leslie, but to his parents. I only hope that they will not manage to overtake the lad before he reaches the frontier, for although I can rely on the king’s justice when he is cool I would not answer for it just at present.”

As Ronald rode off at full speed with Malcolm he related to him the whole circumstances of the quarrel and subsequent duel.

“It was well done, Ronald. I made sure that sooner or later you and the duke would get to blows, that is if he did not adopt other means to get you removed from his path; anyhow I am heartily glad it’s over, and that the most dangerous enemy of your father and yourself is out of the way.

And now we must hope that we sha’nt be overtaken before we get to the frontier. The danger is that orders for your arrest will be passed by signal.”

“We are not going to the frontier, Malcolm; I am only riding this way to throw them off the scent. We are going to Nantes.”

“Well, that’s not a bad plan,” Malcolm said. “They are not so likely to send orders there as to the northern ports. But it will not be easy to get a vessel to cross, for you see, now that we are at war with England, there is little communication. However, we shall no doubt be able to arrange with a smuggler to take us across.”

“We are not going to England, Malcolm; we are going direct to Scotland.

Colonel Hume has told me a secret: Prince Charles has gone down to Nantes and is going to cross at once to Scotland.”

“What! Alone and without an army!” Malcolm exclaimed in astonishment.

“I suppose he despairs of getting assistance from Louis. Now that Fontenoy has put an end to danger on the frontier the King of France is no longer interested in raising trouble for George at home.”

“But it is a mad scheme of the prince’s,” Malcolm said gravely. “If his father did not succeed in ’15 how can he expect to succeed now?”

“The country has had all the longer time to get sick of the Hanoverians, and the gallantry of the enterprise will appeal to the people. Besides, Malcolm, I am not so sure that he will not do better coming alone than if he brought the fifteen thousand men he had at Dunkirk last year with him.

Fifteen thousand men would not win him a kingdom, and many who would join him if he came alone would not do so if he came backed by an army of foreigners. It was the French, you will remember, who ruined his grandfather’s cause in Ireland. Their arrogance and interference disgusted the Irish, and their troops never did any fighting to speak of.

For myself, I would a thousand times rather follow Prince Charles fighting with an army of Scotsmen for the crown of Scotland than fight for him with a French army against Englishmen.”

“Well, perhaps you are right, Ronald; it went against the grain at Fontenoy; for after all, as you said, we are closely akin in blood and language to the English, and although Scotland and France have always been allies it is very little good France has ever done us. She has always been glad enough to get our kings to make war on England whenever she wanted a diversion made, but she has never put herself out of the way to return the favour. It has been a one sided alliance all along.

Scotland has for centuries been sending some of her best blood to fight as soldiers in France, but with a few exceptions no Frenchman has ever drawn his sword for Scotland.

“No, I am inclined to think you are right, Ronald, and especially after what we saw at Fontenoy I have no wish ever to draw sword again against the English, and am willing to be the best friends in the world with them if they will but let us Scots have our own king and go away peacefully. I don’t want to force Prince Charles upon them if they will but let us have him for ourselves. If they won’t, you know, it is they who are responsible for the quarrel, not us.”

“That is one way of putting it, certainly,” Ronald laughed. “I am afraid after having been one kingdom since King James went to London, they won’t let us go our own way without making an effort to keep us; but here is a crossroad, we will strike off here and make for the west.”

They avoided the towns on their routes, for although they felt certain that they were ahead of any messengers who might be sent out with orders for their arrest, they knew that they might be detained for some little time at Nantes, and were therefore anxious to leave no clue of their passage in that direction. On the evening of the third day after starting they approached their destination.

On the first morning after leaving Versailles they had halted in wood a short distance from Chartres, and Malcolm had ridden in alone and had purchased a suit of citizen’s clothes for Ronald, as the latter’s uniform as an officer of the Scotch Dragoons would at once have attracted notice.

Henceforward, whenever they stopped, Malcolm had taken an opportunity to mention to the stable boy that he was accompanying his master, the son of an advocate of Paris, on a visit to some relatives in La Vendee. This story he repeated at the inn where they put up at Nantes.

The next morning Malcolm went round to all the inns in the town, but could hear nothing of the Duke of Athole, so he returned at noon with the news of his want of success.

“They may have hired a private lodging to avoid observation,” Ronald said, “or, not improbably, may have taken another name. The best thing we can do is to go down to the river side, inquire what vessels are likely to leave port soon, and then, if we see anyone going off to them, to accost them. We may hear of them in that way.”

Accordingly they made their way down to the river. There were several vessels lying in the stream, in readiness to sail when the wind served, and the mouth of the river was reported to be clear of any English cruisers. They made inquiries as to the destination of the vessels. All the large ones were sailing for Bordeaux or the Mediterranean ports of France.

“What is that little vessel lying apart from the rest?” Malcolm asked.

“She looks a saucy little craft.”

“That is the privateer La Doutelle, one of the fastest little vessels on the coast. She has brought in more than one English merchantman as a prize.”

As they were speaking a boat was seen to leave her side and make for the shore. With a glance at Malcolm to break off his conversation with the sailor and follow him, Ronald strode along the bank towards the spot where the boat would land. Two gentlemen got out and advanced along the quay. As they passed Ronald said to Malcolm:

“I know one of those men’s faces.”

“Do you, Ronald? I cannot recall having seen them.”

Ronald stood for a moment in thought.

“I know now!” he exclaimed. “And he is one of our men, sure enough.”

“I think, sir,” he said as he came up to them, “that I have had the honour of meeting you before.”

A look of displeasure came across the gentleman’s face.

“I think you are mistaken, sir,” he said coldly. “You must take me for some one else. My name is Verbois — Monsieur Verbois of Le Mans.”

“I have not the pleasure of knowing Monsieur Verbois,” Ronald said with a slight smile; “but I hardly think, sir, that that is the name that you went by when I had the honour of meeting you in Glasgow more than two years ago?”

“In Glasgow!” the gentleman said, looking earnestly at Ronald. “In Glasgow! I do not remember you.”

“I had the pleasure of doing you some slight service, nevertheless,”

Ronald said quietly, “when I brought you news that your enemies were upon you, and managed to detain them while you made your escape through the attic window.”

“A thousand pardons!” the gentleman exclaimed, speaking in English. “How could I have forgotten you? But I saw you for such a short time, and two years have changed you greatly. This is the young gentleman, marquis, to whom I am indebted for my escape when I was so nearly captured at Glasgow, as you have heard me say. It was to his kindly warning in the first place, and to his courage in the second, that I owed my liberty. It is wonderful that you should remember me.”

“Two years have not changed you as much as they have changed me,” Ronald said; “besides, you were busy in destroying papers, while I had nothing to do but to watch you.”

“That is so,” the gentleman agreed. “At any rate I am heartily glad of the happy chance which has thrown us together, and has given me an opportunity of expressing to you the deep gratitude which I have felt for your warning and assistance. Had it not been for that, not only should I myself have been taken, but they would have got possession of those papers, which might have brought the heads of a score of the best blood of Scotland to the scaffold. I took a boat that was lying in readiness, and making down the river got on board a ship which was cruising there awaiting me, and got off. It has always been a matter of bitter regret to me that I never learned so much as the name of the brave young gentleman to whom I owed so much, or what had happened to him for his share in that night’s work.”

“My name is Ronald Leslie, sir. I am the son of Leslie of Glenlyon, who fought with the Chevalier in ’15, and afterwards entered the service of the King of France, and was colonel of the 2nd Scorch Dragoons.”

“Of course I knew him well,” the gentleman said, “and with others endeavoured to obtain his pardon when he fell under the king’s displeasure some fifteen years ago, although I regret to say without success. Believe me, if Prince Charles –” He stopped suddenly as his companion touched him.

“You would say, sir,” Ronald said with a smile, “If Prince Charles succeeds in his present enterprise, and regains his throne, you will get him to exert his influence to obtain my father’s release.”

The two gentlemen gave an exclamation of astonishment.

“How do you know of any enterprise that is meditated?”

“I was told of it as a secret by a Scotch officer in Paris, and am the bearer of a message from him to the Duke of Athole, to ask him to allow me to join the prince.”

“I am the duke,” the other gentleman said.

“Since it is you, sir, I may tell you that the officer I spoke of is Colonel Hume, and that he bade me show you this ring, which he said you would know, as a token that my story was a correct one.”

“Hume is my greatest friend,” the duke exclaimed, “and his introduction would be sufficient, even if you had not already proved your devotion to the cause of the Stuarts. I will take you at once to the prince. But,” he said, “before I do so, I must tell you that the enterprise upon which we are about to embark is a desperate one. The prince has but five companions with him, and we embark on board that little privateer lying in the stream. It is true that we shall be escorted by a man of war, which will convey the arms which Prince Charles has purchased for the enterprise; but not a man goes with us, and the prince is about to trust wholly to the loyalty of Scotland.”

“I shall be ready to accompany him in any case, sir,” Ronald said, “and I beg to introduce to you a faithful friend of my father and myself. His name is Malcolm Anderson. He fought for the Chevalier in ’15, and accompanied my father in his flight to France, and served under him in the French service. Upon the occasion of my father’s arrest he carried me to Scotland, and has been my faithful friend ever since.”

So saying he called Malcolm up and presented him to the duke, and the party then proceeded to the lodging where Prince Charles was staying.

“I have the misfortune to be still ignorant of your name, sir,” Ronald said to his acquaintance of Glasgow.

“What!” the gentleman said in surprise. “You do not know my name, after doing so much for me! I thought, as a matter of course, that when you were captured for aiding my escape you would have heard it, hence my remissness in not introducing myself. I am Colonel Macdonald. When you met me I was engaged in a tour through the Highland clans, sounding the chiefs and obtaining additions to the seven who had signed a declaration in favour of the prince three years before. The English government had obtained, through one of their spies about the person of the Chevalier, news of my mission, and had set a vigilant watch for me.”

“But is it possible that there can be spies among those near the Chevalier!” Ronald exclaimed in astonishment.

“Aye, there are spies everywhere,” Macdonald said bitterly. “All sorts of people come and go round the Chevalier and round Prince Charles. Every Scotch or Irish vagabond who has made his native country too hot to hold him, come to them and pretend that they are martyrs to their loyalty to the Stuarts; and the worst of it is their story is believed. They flatter and fawn, they say just what they are wanted to say, and have no opinion of their own, and the consequence is that the Chevalier looks upon these fellows as his friends, and often turns his back upon Scottish gentlemen who have risked and lost all in his service, but who are too honest to flatter him or to descend to the arts of courtiers. Look at the men who are here with the prince now.”

“Macdonald! Macdonald!” the duke said warmly.

“Well, well,” the other broke off impatiently; “no doubt it is better to hold one’s tongue. But it is monstrous, that when there are a score, ay, a hundred of Scottish gentlemen of family, many of them officers with a high knowledge of war, who would gladly have accompanied him at the first whisper of his intentions, the prince should be starting on such a venture as this with yourself only, duke, as a representative of the Scottish nobles and chiefs, and six or eight mongrels — Irish, English, and Scotch — the sort of men who haunt the pot houses of Flanders, and spend their time in telling what they have suffered in the Stuart cause to any who will pay for their liquor.”

“Not quite so bad as that, Macdonald,” the duke said. “Still I admit that I could have wished that Prince Charles should have landed in Scotland surrounded by men with names known and honoured there, rather than by those he has selected to accompany him.”

“But you are going, are you not, sir?” Ronald asked Colonel Macdonald.

“No, I do not accompany the prince; but I hope to follow shortly. As soon as the prince has sailed it is my mission to see all his friends and followers in France, and urge them to join him in Scotland; while we bring all the influence we have to bear upon Louis, to induce him to furnish arms and assistance for the expedition.”

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