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I find myself in the Bonny Prince Charlie, a Coastal inn some 80 miles west of Inverness. Tomorrow we set sail for the Hebrides. The weather forecast is bad and as I look from my window across the sea, a great foreboding steals up upon me, as a real as the storm clouds themselves, that at this very moment roll in from the East blotting the Stars from the sky. | I find myself in the Bonny Prince Charlie, a Coastal inn some 80 miles west of Inverness. Tomorrow we set sail for the Hebrides. The weather forecast is bad and as I look from my window across the sea, a great foreboding steals up upon me, as a real as the storm clouds themselves, that at this very moment roll in from the East blotting the Stars from the sky. | ||
January 18th | January 18th |