"To-morrow, then, let us breakfast on fish," said Hector. "You and I
will try our luck, while Kate gathers strawberries; and if our line
should break, we can easily cut those long locks from Catharine's head
and twist them into lines." And Hector laid his hands upon the long
fair hair that hung in shining curls about his sister's neck.

"Cut my curls! This is even worse than cousin Louis's proposal of
making tinder and fishing-nets of my apron," said Catharine, shaking
back the bright tresses which, escaping from the snood that bound
them, fell in golden waves over her shoulders.

"In truth, Hec, it were a sin and a shame to cut her pretty curls,
that become her so well," said Louis. "But we have no scissors, ma
belle, so you need fear no injury to your precious locks."

"For the matter of that, Louis, we could cut them with your _couteau
de chaise_. I could tell you a story that my father told me, not long
since, of Charles Stuart, the second king of that name in England. You
know he was the granduncle of the young chevalier, Charles Edward,
that my father talks of, and loves so much."

"I know all about him," said Catharine, nodding sagaciously; "let us
hear the story of his granduncle. But I should like to know what my
hair and Louis's knife can have to do with King Charles."

"Wait a bit, Kate, and you shall hear--that is, if you have patience,"
said her brother. "Well then, you must know, that after some great
battle, the name of which I forget, [Footnote: Battle of Worcester] in
which the king and his handful of brave soldiers were defeated by the