But the _Cock of the North_ weathered
tumultuous sea and wind and came, in the northern spring, to anchor in
a great picture of firth and green shore and dark, piled mountains.
Dr. Robert Bonshaw and his man, going ashore and into Inverness, found
hospitality there in the house of a certain merchant. Thence, after a
day or so, he traveled to the castle of a Highland chief of commanding
port. Here occurred a gathering; here letters and asseverations
brought from France were read, listened to, weighed or taken without
much weighing, so did the Highland desire run one way. An old net
added to itself another mesh.
Dr. Robert Bonshaw, a very fit, invigorating agent, traveled far and
near through the Highlands this May, this June, this July. It was to
him an interesting, difficult, intensely occupied time; he was far
from Lowland Scotland and any echoes therefrom, saving always
political echoes. He had no leisure for his own affairs, saving always
that background consideration that, if the Stewarts really got back
the crown, Ian Rullock was on the road to power and wealth. This
consideration was not articulate, but diffused. It interfered not at
all with the foreground activities and hard planning--no more than did
the fine Highland air. It only spurred him as did the winy air. The
time and place were electric; he worked hard, many hours on end, and
when he sought his bed he dropped at once to needed sleep.
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