Half an hour before daybreak, the men were aroused.  Tents were struck and packed in the waggon, and the men then fell in, and remained until the king, with three or four of his officers and fifty cavalry, rode up.  Fresh wood had been thrown on the fires, and some of the men told off as cooks.

“That looks cheerful for hungry men,” the king said, as he leaped from his horse.

“I did not know whether your majesty would wish to breakfast at once,” Captain Jervoise said; “but I thought it well to be prepared.”

“We will breakfast by all means.  We are all sharp set already.  Have your own men had food yet?”

“No, sir.  I thought perhaps they would carry it with them.”

“No, no.  Let them all have a hearty meal before they move, then they can hold on as long as may be necessary.”

The company fell out again, and, in a quarter of an hour, they and the troopers breakfasted.  A joint of meat was placed, for the use of the king and the officers who had come with him, and Captain Jervoise and those with him prepared to take their meal a short distance away, but Charles said: 

“Bring that joint here, Captain Jervoise, and we will all take breakfast together.  We are all hunters and comrades.”

In a short time, they were all seated round a fire, with their meat on wooden platters on their knees, and with mugs of wine beside them; Captain Jervoise, by the king’s orders, taking his seat beside him.  During the meal, he asked him many questions as to his reasons for leaving England, and taking service with him.

“So you have meddled in politics, eh?” the king laughed, when he heard a brief account of Captain Jervoise’s reason for leaving home.  “Your quarrels, in England and Scotland, have added many a thousand good soldiers to the armies of France and Sweden, and, I may say, of every country in Europe.  I believe there are some of your compatriots, or at any rate Scotchmen, in the czar’s camp.  I suppose that, at William’s death, these troubles will cease.”

“I do not know, sir.  Anne was James’ favourite daughter, and it may be she will resign in favour of her brother, the lawful king.  If she does so, there is an end of trouble; but, should she mount the throne, she would be a usurper, as Mary was up to her death in ’94.  As Anne has been on good terms with William, since her sister’s death, I fear she will act as unnatural a part as Mary did, and, in that case, assuredly we shall not recognize her as our queen.”

“You have heard the news, I suppose, of the action of the parliament last month?”

“No, sir, we have heard nothing for some weeks of what is doing in England.”

“They have been making an Act of Settlement of the succession.  Anne is to succeed William, and, as she has no children by George of Denmark, the succession is to pass from her to the Elector of Hanover, in right of his wife Sophia, as the rest of the children of the Elector of the Palatinate have abjured Protestantism, and are therefore excluded.  How will that meet the views of the English and Scotch Jacobites?”