Page 187 - A Jacobite Exile

Charlie had been long enough in the country to know, by the appearance of
the room, that he was in a peasant's hut. He wondered why he had been

brought there, and concluded that it must be because Allan Ramsay had set
so stringent a search on foot in the city, that they considered it necessary to

take him away.

"They will not keep me here long," he said to himself. "I am sure that I

could walk now, and, in another two or three days, I shall be strong enough
to go some distance. That soup has done me a deal of good. I believe half

my weakness is from hunger."

He no longer kept up the appearance of unconsciousness, and, in the

morning, put various questions, to the man who spoke Swedish, as to what
had happened and how he came to be there. This man was evidently, from

his dress and appearance, a Jew, while the other was as unmistakably a
peasant, a rough powerfully-built man with an evil face. The Jew gave him
but little information, but told him that in a day or two, when he was strong

enough to listen, a friend would come who would tell him all about it.

On the third day, he heard the sound of an approaching horse, and was not
surprised when, after a conversation in a low tone outside, Ben Soloman
entered. Charlie was now much stronger, but he had carefully abstained

from showing any marked improvement, speaking always in a voice a little
above a whisper, and allowing the men to feed him, after making one or

two pretended attempts to convey the spoon to his mouth.

"Well, Master Englishman," Ben Soloman said, as he came up to his

bedside, "what do you think of things?"

"I do not know what to think," Charlie said feebly. "I do not know where I
am, or why I am here. I remember that there was a fray in the street, and I
suppose I was hurt. But why was I brought here, instead of being taken to

my lodgings?"

"Because you would be no use to me in your lodging, and you may be a
great deal of use to me here," Ben Soloman said. "You know you