“It is very good of you to see me, General.” He nodded at Summers. “I am sure that the colonel has told you of the need for secrecy.”

“He has — though not the reason for it.”

The Earl looked uncomfortable, and hesitated before he spoke. “This is — how shall I say it? — a most difficult matter. I would really like to postpone any discussion until after you have met my associates at my home. Mr. MacLaren is the one who will make a complete explanation. I am here as their host — and to explain their bona fides. Nevertheless, I can tell you that this is a matter of national importance.”

“Am I to assume,” Sherman asked, looking closely at the Earl, “that Scotland is somehow involved in this?”

“You have my word, sir, that it is. I have a carriage with a reliable driver who will be arriving soon. Will you be able to accompany me when I leave?”

“Perhaps. If I do go, my aide, Colonel Summers, will accompany me.”

“Yes, of course.”

Summers had been looking closely at the Scottish nobleman. “I have a single concern,” he said. “That is for General Sherman’s safety. He is, after all, commander in chief of our occupying forces.”

The Earl of Eglinton’s face grew pale. “You have my word that there is no danger or threat of danger, none whatsoever.”

“I’ll take the gentleman’s word, Andy,” Sherman said quietly. “I think we had better go with him and see what this is about.”

Their wait was not a long one. Just after dark a guard brought the news that the gentleman’s carriage was waiting. Sherman and Summers both wore their swords, as they had since the war began. The colonel now had a cavalry revolver in a holster on his belt. The carriage had stopped away from the courtyard lights so they could enter it unseen. As soon as the door was closed, they were on their way. It took only a few minutes to drive to Mayfair. As soon as they stopped, the door was opened and a man looked in and nodded to the Earl.

“You were no’ followed,” he said with a thick Scottish accent. “Angus there said the street is empty.”

They emerged into a mews of carriage houses. The Earl of Eglinton led the way through a gate and into the house beyond. The door opened at their approach and they felt their way inside in the darkness. Only when the door was safely closed behind them did the servant uncover the lantern he was carrying. They followed him up the staircase and into a brightly lit room. Three men stood as they entered. Only when the door had closed did the Earl make the introductions.

“Gentlemen, this is General Sherman and his aide, Colonel Summers. General McGregor commands all of Her Majesty’s armed forces in Scotland. The gentleman next to him is Mr. MacLaren of the Highland Council. And this is Mr. Robert Dalglish, who is chairman of…” The Earl of Eglinton hesitated before he finished the sentence, looking distraught. Then he pulled himself up and spoke in a firm voice. “Chairman of the National Party of Scotland.”

Sherman could tell from the way the three men reacted that this revelation was of great importance. “I am sorry, Mr. Dalglish, but I am not familiar with this organization.”

Dalglish smiled wryly and nodded. “I did not think that you would be, General. It is what might be called by some an illegal organization, one that believes in Scottish nationalism. Our precursor was the Association for the Vindication of Scottish Rights. This was a worthy organization that worked for a reformed administration in Scotland. Their cause was a good one — but in the end accomplished little that mattered. We of the National Party have set our sights higher since the conflict with the Americans began. There is much agreement that it is time for a change across the breadth of Scotland. We, and our sympathizers in high places, work for the cause of Scotland’s freedom.”

Sherman nodded; the reason for this clandestine meeting was becoming clear.

“Gentlemen, please be seated,” the Earl of Eglinton said. “That is a carafe of Highland malt whiskey on the table — may I serve you?”

Sherman had a moment to think while the drinks were being poured. He raised his glass then and spoke quietly.

“Gentlemen, shall we drink to the freedom of the Scottish nation?” he asked.

With these words the tension seemed to drain from the air. They were of a common mind, a common purpose. But some matters needed clarification. Sherman turned to McGregor.

“You said, General, that you were commander in chief of Her Majesty’s forces in Scotland.”

“That was indeed my title. I now prefer to simply call myself commander of the army in Scotland. My troops are all in their barracks — where they will remain until there are further instructions. You of course know that the Scottish soldiers who fought in Liverpool have been disarmed and have returned north.”

“What do your officers think of this turn of events?”

“I will be completely frank with you, sir. There are some English officers attached to our regiments. They are temporarily under detention. All of the other officers are with us in this.”

Sherman thought about this, then turned to Robert Dalglish. “With the military of a single mind — I think I know how members of your National Party must feel. But what of the rest of the population of Scotland?”

“I of course cannot speak for them,” Dalglish said. “But if a poll were taken tomorrow I have no doubt of the outcome. Our people will speak as one. A Scotland free of English influence. The restitution of our sovereign right to self-government taken away from us one hundred and sixty years ago when our own parliament was abolished by that blackmailing Act of Union. I am sure that it can be done without violence.”

“I am of a like mind, Mr. Dalglish. The United States encourages democracy in other countries, an objective that has succeeded in Mexico, Canada, and very recently in Ireland. What are your thoughts on that?”

Dalglish smiled. “We have representatives now in the Irish republic studying how democracy works there. We want nothing better than free elections in a free Scotland.”

“Rest assured, then,” Sherman said. “My country will stand by you in this endeavor.”

“Let it be swiftly done,” Dalglish said with great feeling. “I raise my glass and thank you, General. This is a most memorable moment in the history of my land.”

The rains of the previous night had blown themselves out. The dawn of the day of the first meeting of Parliament since the war began bright and clear. The wet streets glinted in the sunlight as Benjamin Disraeli’s richly ornamented coach came down Whitehall to Parliament Square. Big Ben struck the hour of eleven as it drew up at the entrance. The footman ran to let down the step, then stood aside as Mill and Disraeli descended. They passed, heads down, before the blue-clad soldiers guarding the entrance.

Parliament was again in session.

The opening was brief, even curt, and the MPs murmured loudly in protest. Lord Russell, in the front row, rose slowly, nodded at the opposition on the opposite benches, ignoring John Stuart Mill completely, although he was just a few feet away.

“Gentlemen, this is a most tragic day.” His voice was hollow and laden with portents of gloom. “I know not how to advise you, for too much horror has passed since last we sat. Our arms are broken, our country occupied. Our queen a prisoner in Osborne House.” Voices were raised in anger at his words; there were even violent shouts. The speaker banged his gavel repeatedly, calling for order. Russell raised his hand and the protests slowly died away.

“I have been told that the House of Lords has been abolished — hundreds of years of our history wiped out with a stroke of the pen.”

The shouting grew in angry volume, feet stamped in rage upon the floor, and they did not stop, no matter how Lord Russell called out to them, the speaker shouting hoarsely for them to cease, banging over and over again with his gavel. Only a few of the MPs were aware that the doors had opened and that American soldiers, rifles at the ready, stood in the opening. They opened ranks to let a general officer through; he marched straight ahead and stopped before Lord Russell and spoke to him. Russell nodded slowly and raised his hands for silence. Slowly and reluctantly the noise abated. When his voice could be heard again, Russell spoke.