Intensely surprised and amused at this sudden outbreak of enthusiasm on
the part of the usually cautious lawyer, the consul could not refrain
from accenting it by a marked return to practical business.

"I shall be delighted to learn more about Prince Charlie," he said,
smiling, "but just now his prototype--if you'll allow me to call him
so--is a nearer topic, and for the present, at least until he assume his
new titles and dignities, has a right to claim my protection, and I
am responsible for him as an American citizen. Now, my dear friend, is
there really any property, land, or title of any importance involved in
his claim, and what and where, in Heaven's name, is it? For I assure you
I know nothing practical about it, and cannot make head or tail of it."

Sir James resumed his slow serenity, and gathered up his gloves. "Ay,
there's a great deer-forest in Ballochbrinkie, and there's part of
Loch Phillibeg in Cairngormshire, and there's Kelpie Island off
Moreovershire. Ay, there's enough land when the crofters are cleared
off, and the small sheep-tenants evicted. It will be a grand property
then."

The consul stared. "The crofters and tenants evicted!" he repeated. "Are
they not part of the clan, and loyal to the McHulish?"

"The McHulish," said Sir James with great deliberation, "hasn't set foot
there for years. They'd be burning him in effigy."

"But," said the astonished consul, "that's rather bad for the expectant
heir--and the magic of the McHulish presence."