The change, the sea air, and the prospect of seeing his father again greatly benefited Charlie, and, while the company was marched to a large building assigned to their use, he was able to make his way on foot to his father’s, assisted by his soldier servant, Jock Armstrong.

“Why, Charlie,” Sir Marmaduke Carstairs exclaimed as he entered, “who would have thought of seeing you?  You are looking ill, lad; ill and weak.  What has happened to you?”

Charlie briefly related the events that had brought about his return to Gottenburg, of which Sir Marmaduke was entirely ignorant.  Postal communications were rare and uncertain, and Captain Jervoise had not taken advantage of the one opportunity that offered, after Charlie had been wounded, thinking it better to delay till the lad could write and give a good account of himself.

“So Jervoise, and his son, and that good fellow Jamieson are all back again?  That is good news, Charlie; and you have been promoted?  That is capital too, after only a year in the service.  And you have been wounded, and a prisoner among the Russians?  You have had adventures, indeed!  I was terribly uneasy when the first news of that wonderful victory at Narva came, for we generally have to wait for the arrival of the despatches giving the lists of the killed and wounded.  I saw that the regiment had not been in the thick of it, as the lists contained none of your names.  I would have given a limb to have taken part in that wonderful battle.  When you get as old as I am, my boy, you will feel a pride in telling how you fought at Narva, and helped to destroy an entire Russian army with the odds ten to one against you.

“Of course, you will stay here with me.  I suppose you have leave at present?”

“Yes, father, Colonel Jamieson told me that my first duty was to get strong and well again, and that I was to think of no other until I had performed that.  And how have you been getting on, father?”

“Very well, lad.  I don’t pretend that it is not a great change from Lynnwood, but I get along very well, and thank heaven, daily, that for so many years I had set aside a portion of my rents, little thinking that the time would come when they would prove my means of existence.  My friends here have invested the money for me, and it bears good interest, which is punctually paid.  With the English and Scotch exiles, I have as much society as I care for, and as I find I am able to keep a horse—­for living here is not more than half the cost that it would be in England—­I am well enough contented with my lot.

“There is but one thing that pricks me.  That villain John Dormay has, as he schemed for, obtained possession of my estates, and has been knighted for his distinguished services to the king.  I heard of this some time since, by a letter from one of our Jacobite friends to whom I wrote, asking for news.  He says that the new knight has no great cause for enjoyment in his dignity and possessions, because,