"I seem to remember your face, sir," he said. "If this is your country, may I claim the rights of Highland hospitality?"
"Your Highness..." broke out Cameron. But he shook his head at him.
"No Prince to-day," he said, "but only a hunted man, with more thought for his next meal than the Crown of England itself."
With a start Muckle John came forward and knelt at his feet.
"Your Highness," said he, "I hold this country by right of my claymore, and the guns of these men of mine; what my name is, is neither here nor there, and what my manner of life is ye can maybe guess, and why these two gentlemen are here ye will learn from their ain lips. But it will never be said I took advantage of any man's distress, least of all the sad plight of your Royal Highness."
Cameron, who had been fidgeting during these remarks, broke in hurriedly with a very red face.
"I cannot imagine to what you refer, sir," he said, eyeing Muckle John. "No one has anything to learn from Rob and me regarding one who is as true to the Prince as you, sir."
"Sir," returned Muckle John bowing to him gravely, "you will not find me forgetful of such words."
Before any one could say further the Prince interrupted them, and thanked Muckle John in a broken voice. Then, taking Cameron aside, he asked him how soon they could win their way to Badenoch, where he was to meet Cluny Macpherson, and to hear news of the French ships.
Cameron was about to reply, when a shout from somewhere down the glen made them both halt and look towards the watchful figure of Muckle John.