“Nothing would rejoice me more than to see ten thousand men assembled at the castle,” said Anna with increased enthusiasm, “and eager for their king to lead them on to victory. That is how I should like to see your majesty march to London—and Lord Derwentwater with you.”
“Ay, I will never be left behind,” cried the earl.
Fire lighted up the prince's eyes as they spoke, but it faded away.
“It cannot be,” he said. “It cannot be.”
“What cannot be, my liege?” cried Anna, regarding him fixedly. “Not the insurrection? Not the march to London?”
“No,” he replied. “The Earl of Mar, in his letter counsels me to make no immediate movement.”
“For what reason?” demanded Lord Derwentwater in surprise.
“He gives no reason,” rejoined the prince. “But Lord Mar knows the feeling of the clans, and evidently deems the present juncture unpropitious to a rising.”
“I cannot tell what may be the state of the clans,” said Lord Derwentwater, scarcely able to repress his impatience; “but I am certain the opportunity is favourable in the North of England—as can soon be shown, if your majesty will give the signal.”
“I will not commit myself to any decisive step now, my lord,” said the prince, who when thus urged, seemed to shrink from the enterprise. “Nor do I think it will be prudent for me to remain here long.”