“We have heard that the Pretender had abandoned the siege of Fort William, but nothing more; and how far the report is true, it is hard to say. You military men must naturally have a war one way or the other,” said my companion, in a careless manner.
“As to the fighting part of the question,” I replied, “I should feel it a matter of great indifference which side I fought for, as the claim of both parties is a matter of mere opinion.”
“Indeed,” he said; “and what may be your opinion?”
“I have none. I think the claims of both parties equal. The house of Stuart lost the throne of England on account of its religion—that of Hanover has been called to the throne for the same cause. The adherents of both are numerous at the present moment; and it does not follow, because the house of Hanover has the strongest party, that the house of Stuart should not uphold its cause while there is a chance of success.”
“That is true; but if you were to be obliged to take one side or the other, which would it be by preference?”
“Certainly I would support the Protestant religion in preference to the Catholic. I am a Protestant, and that is reason enough.”
“I agree with you,” replied my companion. “Is your brave friend of the same opinion?”
“I really never put the question to him, but I think I may safely answer that he is.”
It was fortunate, Madam, that I replied as I did, for I afterwards discovered that this precious gossiping young man, with his rings and ribbons, was no other than a government spy, on the look-out for malcontents. Certainly his disguise was good, for I never should have imagined it from his foppish exterior and mincing manners.
We passed our time much more to my satisfaction now than we did before, escorting the ladies to the theatre and to Ranelagh, and the freedom with which Captain Levee (and I may say I also) spent his money, soon gave us a passport to good society. About a fortnight afterwards, the news arrived of the battle of Culloden, and great rejoicings were made. My foppish friend remarked to me:—