And now they prepared to lift the unhappy descendant of a family of kings, the last descendant who ever made a bid or struck a blow for all that his ancestors had lost--since his brother the cardinal, Henry, Duke of York, was a mere shadow of a Stuart--and to carry him to the hired coach that waited without. But Bertie, who had been a furious witness of this insult to him whom, rightly or wrongly, he deemed--in agreement with three fourths of his country people and perhaps one half of the English--to be the rightful heir to the English throne, could not part thus from him. As he saw him tied and bound, there arose before him once more the memory of the bright young chieftain with whom he had embarked at Port St. Lazare, with whom he had landed in Lochaber, and before whom the old Marquis of Tullibardine had unfurled at Glenfinnan his white, blue, and red silk standard, with, on it, the proud and happy motto, "Tandem Triumphans."
Also before his eyes there rose the progress through Scotland, the joyous welcome at Edinburgh, the victory at Prestonpans, the surrender at Carlisle, the glorious march to and arrival at Derby, with the news which succeeded that arrival, to the effect that the German King was trembling for fear at St. James's, and all London mad with terror. And then Culloden!--that bitter day, when, as Cumberland's butchers hacked and shot the wounded and the dying, Charles urged on the living to avenge their comrades, and was at last forced off the field against his will, his face bespattered with the dirt thrown up by the cannon balls that fell around him.
And now to see him thus!
"Oh, sir," he cried, flinging himself at the Prince's feet, "let me go with you wherever the King of France may see fit to send you. Give me but leave to see her I love, to tell her that once more I have returned to her, and then let me follow you, as is my duty and desire, wherever you go!"
It was not only Charles Edward who was affected by this manly speech; even De Biron, who understood English well, and De Vaudreville, who did not, but evidently guessed accurately what he had said, were touched by it.
"No, Elphinston, no," the Prince replied. "As I said but now, the day is past for services to be rendered to me or my cause. That cause is lost; this is the last blow. When France joins hands with England, how can a Stuart hope? Farewell, Captain Elphinston; she whom you love--I know all!--will recover yet, ill as she is, I hope. I pray to God that He may bless you both. Farewell! we shall never meet again--never again! Yet, remember, I beseech you, when you hear my name mentioned, that we fought side by side once--that we were comrades--and--and--so, try to think well of me."
They bore him away after this, scarce giving Bertie time to kiss his hand, and from that night they never did meet again. To the Prince there were still to be forty years of life accorded; what that life became, with every hope shattered and every desire unaccomplished, the world well knows.
Between them the grenadiers and De Vaudreville carried him to the hired coach--for owing to his silken fetters he was unable to walk--and put him into it at the spot where it waited, behind the kitchens. And Bertie, following like a faithful dog who perceives its master departing, thus saw the last of him and received his last look. De Vaudreville, he observed, sat by him; two captains of the musketeers entered the coach and sat opposite to him; two other officers rode on each side of the vehicle, with a hand upon the door; six grenadiers with fixed bayonets mounted behind like footmen, and the rest of the soldiers accompanied them on foot.[[Note E]]
Thus the last but one of the Stuarts left Paris; thus the last hospitality and favour of France were withdrawn from the representative of the unhappy family whose cause France had so long espoused.
"And now," said Bertie to himself, as with a final courteous bow the Duc de Biron entered his own gorgeous carriage and departed to give an account of the proceedings to Louis--"and now for her whom I have pined for so long! God grant that the report of her ill-health may be exaggerated! If I lose her, I have nothing more to live for!"