From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. Capes came back into her mind. “I like to think of your offer. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. One has to be so careful. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
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