followed."

Clearly the Count shared my aunt's views of history--those views
which have made such sport for us often at Carteron. Stalwart
Whig as I am, there was something in the tone of the old
gentleman which made me feel a certain majesty in the lost cause.

"I am Whig in blood and Whig in principle," I said,--"but I have
never denied that those Scots who followed the Chevalier were too
good to waste on so trumpery a leader."

I had no sooner spoken the words than I felt that somehow I had
been guilty of a betise.

"It may be so," said the Count. "I did not bid you here, sir, to
argue on politics, on which I am assured we should differ. But I
will ask you one question. The King of England is a stout
upholder of the right of kings. How does he face the defection
of his American possessions?"

"The nation takes it well enough, and as for his Majesty's
feelings, there is small inclination to inquire into them. I
conceive of the whole war as a blunder out of which we have come
as we deserved. The day is gone by for the assertion of
monarchic rights against the will of a people."

"May be. But take note that the King of England is suffering
to-day as--how do you call him?--the Chevalier suffered forty
years ago. 'The wheel has come full circle,' as your Shakespeare
says. Time has wrought his revenge."