A grave had been opened to receive the remains of a respected inhabitant of the town, and the last rites were then being performed by Mr. Lewthwaite, who proceeded as calmly as circumstances would permit.
But other mourners than those expected gathered round the grave as the coffin was lowered into it—Highland officers bare-headed, and noticeable for their respectful demeanour.
The Highland regiments did not remain long in St. Ann's Square. Having received their billets, the men were taken to their lodgings by the quarter-masters. The artillery and baggage-waggons proceeded to Castle Field, where a park was formed, and strongly guarded.
CHAPTER XI.
ARRIVAL OF THE SECOND DIVISION.
Multitudes of people still remained in Salford, patiently awaiting the arrival of the prince with the second division of the Highland army.
All the inmates of Mrs. Butler's dwelling, which, it will be remembered, was situated at the upper end of the main street, had witnessed the march past of the first division. Even the invalid lady herself, who had not quitted the house for a lengthened period, and could not do so now without considerable risk, came forth to see the young prince.
Not being able to walk so far, she was carried out into the garden, and placed near the gate, which was thrown open. From this position she commanded the road, and could see all that was to be seen.
Near her stood Monica and Constance, both of whom were attired in white dresses, with blue scarves, while in close attendance upon her were her brother, Sir Richard Rawcliffe, Father Jerome, and Jemmy Dawson.
Notwithstanding the excitement of the occasion, Constance looked pensive and absent—her thoughts being occupied with Atherton Legh. Very little conversation had taken place between her and her father, since Sir Richard's return from Preston, and then only in the presence of Father Jerome. All allusion to the young man had been studiously avoided.
By this time Monica had quite shaken off her fears, and when the stirring spectacle commenced, and the clan regiments marched past the gate, her breast glowed with enthusiasm, and all her former ardour returned. She thought no more of her lover's danger, but of the glory he would win; and if he had held back, she would now have urged him on.