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Waverley by Walter Scott

Part 7 out of 11

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native country. It cannot therefore be wondered if Waverley, who
had hitherto judged of the Highlanders generally from the samples
which the policy of Fergus had from time to time exhibited,
should have felt damped and astonished at the daring attempt of a
body not then exceeding four thousand men, and of whom not above
half the number, at the utmost, were armed, to change the fate,
and alter the dynasty, of the British kingdoms.

As he moved along the column, which still remained stationary, an
iron gun, the only piece of artillery possessed by the army which
meditated so important a revolution, was fired as the signal of
march. The Chevalier had expressed a wish to leave this useless
piece of ordnance behind him; but, to his surprise, the Highland
chiefs interposed to solicit that it might accompany their march,
pleading the prejudices of their followers, who, little
accustomed to artillery, attached a degree of absurd importance
to this field-piece, and expected it would contribute essentially
to a victory which they could only owe to their own muskets and
broadswords. Two or three French artillerymen were therefore
appointed to the management of this military engine, which was
drawn along by a string of Highland ponies, and was, after all,
only used for the purpose of firing signals. [See Note 25.]

No sooner was its voice heard upon the present occasion, than the
whole line was in motion. A wild cry of joy from the advancing
battalions rent the air, and was then lost in the shrill clangour
of the bagpipes, as the sound of these, in their turn, was
partially drowned by the heavy tread of so many men put at once
into motion. The banners glittered and shook as they moved
forward, and the horse hastened to occupy their station as the
advanced guard, and to push on reconnoitring parties to ascertain
and report the motions of the enemy. They vanished from
Waverley's eye as they wheeled round the base of Arthur's seat,
under the remarkable ridge of basaltic rocks which fronts the
little lake of Duddingston.

The infantry followed in the same direction, regulating their
pace by another body which occupied a road more to the southward.
It cost Edward some exertion of activity to attain the place
which Fergus's followers occupied in the line of march.

CHAPTER XLV

AN INCIDENT GIVES RISE TO UNAVAILING REFLECTIONS

When Waverley reached that part of the column which was filled by
the clan of Mac-Ivor, they halted, formed, and received him with
a triumphant flourish upon the bagpipes, and a loud shout of the
men, most of whom knew him personally, and were delighted to see
him in the dress of their country and of their sept. 'You
shout,' said a Highlander of a neighbouring clan to Evan Dhu, 'as
if the Chieftain were just come to your head.'

MAR E BRAN IS E BRATHAIR, If it be not Bran, it is Bran's
brother,' was the proverbial reply of Maccombich. [Bran, the
well-known dog of Fingal, is often the theme of Highland proverb
as well as song.]

'Oh, then, it is the handsome Sassenach Duinhe-wassel, that is to
be married to Lady Flora?'

'That may be, or it may not be; and it is neither your matter nor
mine, Gregor.'

Fergus advanced to embrace the volunteer, and afford him a warm
and hearty welcome; but he thought it necessary to apologize for
the diminished numbers of his battalion (which did not exceed
three hundred men), by observing, he had sent a good many out
upon parties.

The real fact, however, was, that the defection of Donald Bean
Lean had deprived him of at least thirty hardy fellows, whose
services he had fully reckoned upon, and that many of his
occasional adherents had been recalled by their several chiefs to
the standards to which they most properly owed their allegiance.
The rival chief of the great northern branch also of his own
clan, had mustered his people, although he had not yet declared
either for the Government or for the Chevalier, and by his
intrigues had in some degree diminished the force with which
Fergus took the field. To make amends for these disappointments,
it was universally admitted that the followers of Vich Ian Vohr,
in point of appearance, equipment, arms, and dexterity in using
them, equalled the most choice troops which followed the standard
of Charles Edward. Old Ballenkeiroch acted as his major; and,
with the other officers who had known Waverley when at
Glennaquoich, gave our hero a cordial reception, as the sharer of
their future dangers and expected honours.

The route pursued by the Highland army, after leaving the village
of Duddingston, was for some time the common post-road betwixt
Edinburgh and Haddington, until they crossed the Esk at
Musselburgh, when, instead of keeping the low grounds towards the
sea, they turned more inland, and occupied the brow of the
eminence called Carberry hill, a place already distinguished in
Scottish history as the spot where the lovely Mary surrendered
herself to her insurgent subjects. This direction was chosen,
because the Chevalier had received notice that the army of the
Government, arriving by sea from Aberdeen, had landed at Dunbar,
and quartered the night before to the west of Haddington, with
the intention of falling down towards the sea-side, and
approaching Edinburgh by the lower coast-road. By keeping the
height, which overhung that road in many places, it was hoped the
Highlanders might find an opportunity of attacking them to
advantage. The army therefore halted upon the ridge of Carberry
hill, both to refresh the soldiers, and as a central situation,
from which their march could be directed to any point that the
motions of the enemy might render most advisable. While they
remained in this position, a messenger arrived in haste to desire
Mac-Ivor to come to the Prince, adding, that their advanced post
had had a skirmish with some of the enemy's cavalry, and that the
Baron of Bradwardine had sent in a few prisoners.

Waverley walked forward out of the line to satisfy his curiosity,
and soon observed five or six of the troopers, who, covered with
dust, had galloped in to announce that the enemy were in full
march westward along the coast. Passing still a little further
on, he was struck with a groan which issued from a hovel. He
approached the spot, and heard a voice, in the provincial English
of his native county, which endeavoured, though frequently
interrupted by pain, to repeat the Lord's Prayer. The voice of
distress always found a ready answer in our hero's bosom. He
entered the hovel, which seemed to be intended for what is
called, in the pastoral counties of Scotland, a smearing-house;
and in its obscurity Edward could only at first discern a sort of
red bundle; for those who had stripped the wounded man of his
arms, and part of his clothes, had left him the dragoon-cloak in
which he was enveloped.

'For the love of God,' said the wounded man, as he heard
Waverley's step, 'give me a single drop of water!'

'You shall have it,' answered Waverley, at the same time raising
him in his arms, bearing him to the door of the hut, and giving
him some drink from his flask.

'I should know that voice,' said the man; but, looking on
Waverley's dress with a bewildered look,--'no, this is not the
young squire!'

This was the common phrase by which Edward was distinguished on
the estate of Waverley-Honour, and the sound now thrilled to his
heart with the thousand recollections which the well-known
accents of his native country had already contributed to awaken.
'Houghton!' he said, gazing on the ghastly features which death
was fast disfiguring, 'can this be you?'

'I never thought to hear an English voice again,' said the
wounded man; 'they left me to live or die here as I could, when
they found I would say nothing about the strength of the
regiment. But, oh, squire! how could you stay from us so long,
and let us be tempted by that fiend of the pit, Ruffin?--we
should have followed you through flood and fire, to be sure.'

'Ruffin! I assure you, Houghton, you have been vilely imposed
upon.'

'I often thought so,' said Houghton, 'though they showed us your
very seal; and so Timms was shot, and I was reduced to the
ranks.'

'Do not exhaust your strength in speaking,' said Edward; 'I will
get you a surgeon presently.'

He saw Mac-Ivor approaching, who was now returning from head-
quarters, where he had attended a council of war, and hastened to
meet him. 'Brave news!' shouted the Chief; 'we shall be at it
in less than two hours. The Prince has put himself at the head
of the advance, and as he drew his sword, called out, "My
friends, I have thrown away the scabbard." Come, Waverley, we
move instantly.'

'A moment,--a moment; this poor prisoner is dying where shall I
find a surgeon?'

'Why, where should you? We have none, you know, but two or three
French fellows, who, I believe, are little better than GARCONS
APOTHICAIRES.'

'But the man will bleed to death.'

'Poor fellow!' said Fergus, in a momentary fit of compassion;
then instantly added, 'But it will be a thousand men's fate
before night; so come along.'

'I cannot; I tell you he is a son of a tenant of my uncle's.'

'Oh, if he's a follower of yours, he must be looked to;

'I'll send Callum to you. But DIAOUL!-CAEDE MILLIA MOLLIGHEART!'
continued the impatient Chieftain,--'what made an old soldier,
like Bradwardine, send dying men here to cumber us?'

Callum came with his usual alertness; and, indeed, Waverley
rather gained than lost in the opinion of the Highlanders, by his
anxiety about the wounded man. They would not have understood
the general philanthropy which rendered it almost impossible for
Waverley to have passed any person in such distress; but, as
apprehending that the sufferer was one of his following,
[SCOTTICE for followers.] they unanimously allowed that
Waverley's conduct was that of a kind and considerate chieftain,
who merited the attachment of his people. In about a quarter of
an hour poor Humphry breathed his last, praying his young master,
when he returned to Waverley-Honour, to be kind to old Job
Houghton and his dame, and conjuring him not to fight with these
wild petticoat-men against old England.

When his last breath was drawn, Waverley, who had beheld with
sincere sorrow, and no slight tinge of remorse, the final agonies
of mortality, now witnessed for the first time, commanded Callum
to remove the body into the hut. This the young Highlander
performed, not without examining the pockets of the defunct,
which, however, he remarked, had been pretty well spung'd. He
took the cloak, however, and proceeding with the provident
caution of a spaniel hiding a bone, concealed it among some
furze, and carefully marked the spot, observing that, if he
chanced to return that way, it would be an excellent rokelay for
his auld mother Elspat.

It was by a considerable exertion that they regained their place
in the marching column, which was now moving rapidly forward to
occupy the high grounds above the village of Tranent, between
which and the sea, lay the purposed march of the opposite army.

This melancholy interview with his late sergeant forced many
unavailing and painful reflections upon Waverley's mind. It was
clear, from the confession of the man, that Colonel Gardiner's
proceedings had been strictly warranted, and even rendered
indispensable, by the steps taken in Edward's name to induce the
soldiers of his troop to mutiny. The circumstance of the seal,
he now, for the first time, recollected, and that he had lost it
in the cavern of the robber, Bean Lean. That the artful villain
had secured it, and used it as the means of carrying on an
intrigue in the regiment, for his own purposes, was sufficiently
evident, and Edward had now little doubt that in the packet
placed in his portmanteau by his daughter, he should find further
light upon his proceedings. In the meanwhile, the repeated
expostulation of Houghton,--'Ah, squire, why did you leave us?'
rang like a knell in his ears.

'Yes,' he said, 'I have indeed acted towards you with thoughtless
cruelty. I brought you from your paternal fields, and the
protection of a generous and kind landlord, and when I had
subjected you to all the rigour of military discipline, I shunned
to bear my own share of the burden, and wandered from the duties
I had undertaken, leaving alike those whom it was my business to
protect, and my own reputation, to suffer under the artifices of
villany. O indolence and indecision of mind! if not in
yourselves vices, to how much exquisite misery and mischief do
you frequently prepare the way!'

CHAPTER XLVI

THE EVE OF BATTLE

Although the Highlanders marched on very fast, the sun was
declining when they arrived upon the brow of those high grounds
which command an open and extensive plain stretching northward to
the sea, on which are situated, but at a considerable distance
from each other, the small villages of Seaton and Cockenzie, and
the larger one of Preston. One of the low coast-roads to
Edinburgh passed through this plain, issuing upon it from the
enclosures of Seaton-house, and at the town or village of Preston
again entering the defiles of an enclosed country. By this way
the English general had chosen to approach the metropolis, both
as most commodious for his cavalry, and being probably of opinion
that, by doing so, he would meet in front with the Highlanders
advancing from Edinburgh in the opposite direction. In this he
was mistaken; for the sound judgement of the Chevalier, or of
those to whose advice he listened, left the direct passage free,
but occupied the strong ground by which it was overlooked and
commanded.

When the Highlanders reached the heights above the plain
described, they were immediately formed in army of battle along
the brow of the hill. Almost at the same instant the van of the
English appeared issuing from among the trees and enclosures of
Seaton, with the purpose of occupying the level plain between the
high ground and the sea; the space which divided the armies being
only about half a mile in breadth. Waverley could plainly see
the squadrons of dragoons issue, one after another, from the
defiles, with their videttes in front, and form upon the plain,
with their front opposed to that of the Prince's army. They were
followed by a train of field-pieces, which, when they reached the
flank of the dragoons, were also brought into line, and pointed
against the heights. The march was continued by three or four
regiments of infantry marching in open column, their fixed
bayonets showing like successive hedges of steel, and their arms
glancing like lightning, as, at a signal given, they also at once
wheeled up, and were placed in direct opposition to the
Highlanders. A second train of artillery, with another regiment
of horse, closed the long march, and formed on the left flank of
the infantry, the whole line facing southward.

While the English army went through these evolutions, the
Highlanders showed equal promptitude and zeal for battle. As
fast as the clans came upon the ridge which fronted their enemy,
they were formed into line, so that both armies got into complete
order of battle at the same moment. When this was accomplished,
the Highlanders set up a tremendous yell, which was re-echoed by
the heights behind them. The regulars, who were in high spirits,
returned a loud shout of defiance, and fired one or two of their
cannon upon an advanced post of the Highlanders. The latter
displayed great earnestness to proceed instantly to the attack,
Evan Dhu urging to Fergus, by way of argument, that 'the SIDIER
ROY was tottering like an egg upon a staff, and that they had a'
the vantage of the onset, for even a haggis (God bless her!)
could charge down hill.'

But the ground through which the mountaineers must have
descended, although not of great extent, was impracticable in its
character, being not only marshy, but intersected with walls of
dry-stone, and traversed in its whole length by a very broad and
deep ditch, circumstances which must have given the musketry of
the regulars dreadful advantages, before the mountaineers could
have used their swords, on which they were taught to rely. The
authority of the commanders was therefore interposed to curb the
impetuosity of the Highlanders, and only a few marksmen were sent
down the descent to skirmish with the enemy's advanced posts, and
to reconnoitre the ground.

Here, then, was a military spectacle of no ordinary interest, or
usual occurrence. The two armies, so different in aspect and
discipline, yet each admirably trained in its own peculiar mode
of war, upon whose conflict the temporary fate at least of
Scotland appeared to depend, now faced each other like two
gladiators in the arena, each meditating upon the mode of
attacking their enemy. The leading officers, and the general's
staff of each army, could be distinguished in front of their
lines, busied with spy-glasses to watch each other's motions, and
occupied in dispatching the orders and receiving the intelligence
conveyed, by the aides-de-camp and orderly men, who gave life to
the scene by galloping along in different directions as if the
fate of the day depended upon the speed of their horses. The
space between the armies was at times occupied by the partial and
irregular contests of individual sharpshooters, and a hat or
bonnet was occasionally seen to fall, as a wounded man was borne
off by his comrades. These, however, were but trifling
skirmishes, for it suited the views of neither party to advance
in that direction. From the neighbouring hamlets, the peasantry
cautiously showed themselves, as if watching the issue of the
expected engagement; and at no great distance in the bay were two
square-rigged vessels, bearing the English flag, whose tops and
yards were crowded with less timid spectators.

When this awful pause had lasted for a short time, Fergus, with
another chieftain, received orders to detach their clans towards
the village of Preston, in order to threaten the right flank of
Cope's army, and compel him to a change of position. To enable
him to execute these orders, the Chief of Glennaquoich occupied
the churchyard of Tranent, a commanding situation, and a
convenient place, as Evan Dhu remarked, 'for any gentleman who
might have the misfortune to be killed, and chanced to be curious
about Christian burial.' To check or dislodge this party, the
English general detached two guns escorted by a strong party of
cavalry. They approached so near, that Waverley could plainly
recognize the standard of the troop he had formerly commanded,
and hear the trumpets and kettledrums sound the signal of
advance, which he had so often obeyed. He could hear, too, the
well-known word given in the English dialect, by the equally
well-distinguished voice of the commanding-officer, for whom he
had once felt so much respect. It was at that instant, that,
looking around him, he saw the wild dress and appearance of his
Highland associates, heard their whispers in an uncouth and
unknown language, looked upon his own dress, so unlike that which
he had worn from his infancy, and wished to awake from what
seemed at the moment a dream, strange, horrible, and unnatural.
'Good God!' he muttered, 'am I then a traitor to my country, a
renegade to my standard, and a foe, as that poor dying wretch
expressed himself, to my native England?'

Ere he could digest or smother the recollection, the tall
military form of his late commander came full in view, for the
purpose of reconnoitring. 'I can hit him now,' said Callum,
cautiously raising his fusee over the wall under which he lay
couched, at scarce sixty yards' distance.

Edward felt as if he was about to see a parricide committed in
his presence; for the venerable grey hair and striking
countenance of the veteran recalled the almost paternal respect
with which his officers universally regarded him. But ere he
could say 'Hold!' an aged Highlander, who lay beside Callum Beg,
stopped his arm. 'Spare your shot,' said the seer, 'his hour is
not yet come. But let him beware of to-morrow.--I see his
winding-sheet high upon his breast.'

Callum, flint to other considerations, was penetrable to
superstition. He turned pale at the words of the TAISHATR, and
recovered his piece. Colonel Gardiner, unconscious of the danger
he had escaped, turned his horse round, and rode slowly back to
the front of his regiment.

By this time the regular army had assumed a new line, with one
flank inclined towards the sea, and the other resting upon the
village of Preston; and as similar difficulties occurred in
attacking their new position, Fergus and the rest of the
detachment were recalled to their former post. This alteration
created the necessity of a corresponding change in General Cope's
army, which was again brought into a line parallel with that of
the Highlanders. In these manoeuvres on both sides the daylight
was nearly consumed, and both armies prepared to rest upon their
arms for the night in the lines which they respectively occupied.

'There will be nothing done to-night,' said Fergus to his friend
Waverley. 'Ere we wrap ourselves in our plaids, let us go see
what the Baron is doing in the rear of the line.'

When they approached his post, they found the good old careful
officer, after having sent out his night patrols, and posted his
sentinels, engaged in reading the Evening Service of the
Episcopal Church to the remainder of his troop. His voice was
loud and sonorous, and though his spectacles upon his nose, and
the appearance of Saunders Saunderson, in military array,
performing the functions of clerk, had something ludicrous, yet
the circumstances of danger in which they stood, the military
costume of the audience, and the appearance of their horses,
saddled and picketed behind them, gave an impressive and solemn
effect to the office of devotion.

'I have confessed to-day, ere you were awake,' whispered Fergus
to Waverley; 'yet I am not so strict a Catholic as to refuse to
join in this good man's prayers.'

Edward assented, and they remained till the Baron had concluded
the service.

As he shut the book, 'Now, lads,' said he, 'have at them in the
morning, with heavy hands and light consciences.' He then kindly
greeted Mac-Ivor and Waverley, who requested to know his opinion
of their situation. 'Why, you know, Tacitus saith, "IN REBUS
BELLICIS MAXIME DOMINATUR FORTUNA," which is equiponderate with
our vernacular adage, "Luck can maist in the mellee." But credit
me, gentlemen, yon man is not a deacon o' his craft. He damps
the spirits of the poor lads he commands, by keeping them on the
defensive, whilk of itself implies inferiority or fear. Now will
they lie on their arms yonder, as anxious and as ill at ease as a
toad under a harrow, while our men will be quite fresh and blithe
for action in the morning. Well, goodnight.--One thing troubles
me, but if to-morrow goes well off, I will consult you about it,
Glennaquoich.'--

'I could almost apply to Mr. Bradwardine the character which
Henry gives of Fluellen,' said Waverley, as his friend and he
walked towards their BIVOUAC:

Though it appears a little out of fashion,
There is much care and valour in this 'Scotchman.'

'He has seen much service,' answered Fergus, 'and one is
sometimes astonished to find how much nonsense and reason are
mingled in his composition, I wonder what can be troubling his
mind--probably something about Rose.--Hark! the English are
setting their watch.'

The roll of the drum and shrill accompaniment of the fifes
swelled up the hill-died away--resumed its thunder--and was at
length hushed. The trumpets and kettledrums of the cavalry were
next heard to perform the beautiful and wild point of war
appropriated as a signal for that piece of nocturnal duty, and
then finally sank upon the wind with a shrill and mournful
cadence.

The friends, who had now reached their post, stood and looked
round them ere they lay down to rest. The western sky twinkled
with stars, but a frost-mist, rising from the ocean, covered the
eastern horizon, and rolled in white wreaths along the plain
where the adverse army lay couched upon their arms. Their
advanced posts were pushed as far as the side of the great ditch
at the bottom of the descent, and had kindled large fires at
different intervals, gleaming with obscure and hazy lustre
through the heavy fog which encircled them with a doubtful halo.

The Highlanders, 'thick as leaves in Vallombrosa,' lay stretched
upon the ridge of the hill, buried (excepting their sentinels) in
the most profound repose. 'How many of these brave fellows will
sleep more soundly before to-morrow night, Fergus!' said
Waverley, with an involuntary sigh.

'You must not think of that,' answered Fergus, whose ideas were
entirely military. 'You must only think of your sword, and by
whom it was given. All other reflections are now TOO LATE.'

With the opiate contained in this undeniable remark, Edward
endeavoured to lull the tumult of his conflicting feelings. The
Chieftain and he, combining their plaids, made a comfortable and
warm couch. Callum, sitting down at their head (for it was his
duty to watch upon the immediate person of the Chief), began a
long mournful song in Gaelic, to a low and uniform tune, which,
like the sound of the wind at a distance, soon lulled them to
sleep.

CHAPTER XLVII

THE CONFLICT

When Fergus Mac-Ivor and his friend had slept for a few hours,
they were awakened, and summoned to attend the Prince. The
distant village-clock was heard to toll three as they hastened to
the place where he lay. He was already surrounded by his
principal officers and the chiefs of clans. A bundle of peas-
straw, which had been lately his couch, now served for his seat.
Just as Fergus reached the circle, the consultation had broken
up. 'Courage, my brave friends!' said the Chevalier, 'and each
one put himself instantly at the head of his command; a faithful
friend [See Note 26.] has offered to guide us by a practicable,
though narrow and circuitous route, which, sweeping to our right,
traverses the broken ground and morass, and enables us to gain
the firm and open plain, upon which the enemy are lying. This
difficulty surmounted, Heaven and your good swords must do the
rest.'

The proposal spread unanimous joy, and each leader hastened to
get his men into order with as little noise as possible. The
army, moving by its right from off the ground on which they had
rested, soon entered the path through the morass, conducting
their march with astonishing silence and great rapidity. The
mist had not risen to the higher grounds, so that for some time
they had the advantage of starlight. But this was lost as the
stars faded before approaching day, and the head of the marching
column, continuing its descent, plunged as it were into the heavy
ocean of fog, which rolled its white waves over the whole plain,
and over the sea by which it was bounded. Some difficulties were
now to be encountered, inseparable from darkness,--a narrow,
broken, and marshy path, and the necessity of preserving union in
the march. These, however, were less inconvenient to
Highlanders, from their habits of life, than they would have been
to any other troops, and they continued a steady and swift
movement.

As the clan of Ivor approached the firm ground, following the
track of those who preceded them, the challenge of a patrol was
heard through the mist, though they could not see the dragoon by
whom it was made--'Who goes there?'

'Hush!' cried Fergus, 'hush!--Let none answer, as he values his
life.--Press forward!' and they continued their march with
silence and rapidity.

The patrol fired his carabine upon the body, and the report was
instantly followed by the clang of his horse's feet as he
galloped off. 'HYLAX IN LIMINE LATRAT,' said the Baron of
Bradwardine, who heard the shot; 'that loon will give the alarm.'

The clan of Fergus had now gained the firm plain, which had
lately borne a large crop of corn. But the harvest was gathered
in, and the expense was unbroken by tree, bush, or interruption
of any kind. The rest of the army were following fast, when they
heard the drums of the enemy beat the general. Surprise,
however, had made no part of their plan, so they were not
disconcerted by this intimation that the foe was upon his guard
and prepared to receive them. It only hastened their
dispositions for the combat, which were very simple.

The Highland army, which now occupied the eastern end of the wide
plain, or stubble field, so often referred to, was drawn up in
two lines, extending from the morass towards the sea. The first
was destined to charge the enemy, the second to act as a reserve.
The few horse, whom the Prince headed in person, remained between
the two lines. The Adventurer had intimated a resolution to
charge in person at the head of his first line; but his purpose
was deprecated by all around him, and he was with difficulty
induced to abandon it.

Both lines were now moving forward, the first prepared for
instant combat. The clans of which it was composed, formed each
a sort of separate phalanx, narrow in front, and in depth ten,
twelve, or fifteen files, according to the strength of the
following. The best armed and best born, for the words were
synonymous, were placed in front of each of these irregular
subdivisions. The others in the rear shouldered forward the
front, and by their pressure added both physical impulse, and
additional ardour and confidence, to those who were first to
encounter the danger.

'Down with your plaid, Waverley,' cried Fergus, throwing off his
own; 'we'll win silks for our tartans before the sun is above the
sea.'

The clansmen on every side stripped their plaids, prepared their
arms, and there was an awful pause of about three minutes, during
which the men, pulling off their bonnets, raised their faces to
heaven, and uttered a short prayer; then pulled their bonnets
over their brows, and began to move forward at first slowly.
Waverley felt his heart at that moment throb as it would have
burst from his bosom. It was not fear, it was not ardour,--it
was a compound of both, a new and deeply energetic impulse, that
with its first emotion chilled and astounded, then fevered and
maddened his mind, The sounds around him combined to exalt his
enthusiasm; the pipes played, and the clans rushed forward, each
in its own dark column. As they advanced they mended their pace,
and the muttering sounds of the men to each other began to swell
into a wild cry.

At this moment, the sun, which was now risen above the horizon,
dispelled the mist. The vapours rose like a curtain, and showed
the two armies in the act of closing. The line of the regulars
was formed directly fronting the attack of the Highlanders; it
glittered with the appointments of a complete army, and was
flanked by cavalry and artillery. But the sight impressed no
terror on the assailants.

'Forward, sons of Ivor,' cried their Chief, 'or the Camerons will
draw the first blood!'--They rushed on with a tremendous yell.

The rest is well known. The horse, who were commanded to charge
the advancing Highlanders in the flank, received an irregular
fire from their fusees as they ran on, and, seized with a
disgraceful panic, wavered, halted, disbanded, and galloped from
the field. The artillerymen, deserted by the cavalry, fled after
discharging their pieces, and the Highlanders, who dropped their
guns when fired, and drew their broadswords, rushed with headlong
fury against the infantry.

It was at this moment of confusion and terror, that Waverley
remarked an English officer, apparently of high rank, standing
alone and unsupported by a field-piece, which, after the flight
of the men by whom it was wrought, he had himself levelled and
discharged against the clan of Mac-Ivor, the nearest group of
Highlanders within his aim. Struck with his tall, martial
figure, and eager to save him from inevitable destruction,
Waverley outstripped for an instant even the speediest of the
warriors, and, reaching the spot first, called to him to
surrender. The officer replied by a thrust with his sword, which
Waverley received in his target, and in turning it aside the
Englishman's weapon broke. At the same time the battle-axe of
Dugald Mahony was in the act of descending upon the officer's
head. Waverley intercepted and prevented the blow, and the
officer, perceiving further resistance unavailing, and struck
with Edward's generous anxiety for his safety, resigned the
fragment of his sword, and was committed by Waverley to Dugald,
with strict charge to use him well, and not to pillage his
person, promising him, at the same time, full indemnification for
the spoil.

On Edward's right, the battle for a few minutes raged fierce and
thick. The English infantry, trained in the wars in Flanders,
stood their ground with great courage. But their extended files
were pierced and broken in many places by the close masses of the
clans; and in the personal struggle which ensued, the nature of
the Highlanders' weapons, and their extraordinary fierceness and
activity, gave them a decided superiority over those who had been
accustomed to trust much to their array and discipline, and felt
that the one was broken and the other useless. Waverley, as he
cast his eyes towards this scene of smoke and slaughter, observed
Colonel Gardiner, deserted by his own soldiers in spite of all
his attempts to rally them, yet spurring his horse through the
field to take the command of a small body of infantry, who, with
their backs arranged against the wall of his own park (for his
house was close by the field of battle), continued a desperate
and unavailing resistance. Waverley could perceive that he had
already received many wounds, his clothes and saddle being marked
with blood. To save this good and brave man, became the instant
object of his most anxious exertions. But he could only witness
his fall. Ere Edward could make his way among the Highlanders,
who, furious and eager for spoil, now thronged upon each other,
he saw his former commander brought from his horse by the blow of
a scythe, and beheld him receive, while on the ground, more
wounds than would have let out twenty lives. When Waverley came
up, however, perception had not entirely fled. The dying warrior
seemed to recognize Edward, for he fixed his eye upon him with an
upbraiding, yet sorrowful look, and appeared to struggle for
utterance. But he felt that death was dealing closely with him,
and resigning his purpose, and folding his hands as if in
devotion, he gave up his soul to his Creator. The look with
which he regarded Waverley in his dying moments did not strike
him so deeply at that crisis of hurry and confusion, as when it
recurred to his imagination at the distance of some time. [See
Note 27.]

Loud shouts of triumph now echoed over the whole field. The
battle was fought and won, and the whole baggage, artillery, and
military stores of the regular army remained in possession of the
victors. Never was a victory more complete. Scarce any escaped
from the battle, excepting the cavalry, who had left it at the
very onset, and even these were broken into different parties and
scattered all over the country. So far as our tale is concerned,
we have only to relate the fate of Balmawhapple, who, mounted on
a horse as headstrong and stiff-necked as his rider, pursued the
flight of the dragoons above four miles from the field of battle,
when some dozen of the fugitives took heart of grace, turned
round, and, cleaving his skull with their broadswords, satisfied
the world that the unfortunate gentleman had actually brains, the
end of his life thus giving proof of a fact greatly doubted
during its progress. His death was lamented by few. Most of
those who knew him agreed in the pithy observation of Ensign
Maccombich, that there 'was mair TINT (lost) at Sheriff-Muir.'
His friend, Lieutenant Jinker, bent his eloquence only to
exculpate his favourite mare from any share in contributing to
the catastrophe. 'He had tauld the laird a thousand times,' he
said, 'that it was a burning shame to put a martingale upon the
puir thing, when he would needs ride her wi' a curb of half a
yard lang; and that he could na but bring himsell (not to say
her) to some mischief, by flinging her down, or otherwise;
whereas, if he had had a wee bit rinnin ring on the snaffle, she
wad ha' rein'd as cannily as a cadger's pownie.'

Such was the elegy of the Laird of Balmawhapple. [See Note 28.]

CHAPTER XLVIII

AN UNEXPECTED EMBARRASSMENT

When the battle was over, and all things coming into order, the
Baron of Bradwardine, returning from the duty of the day, and
having disposed those under his command in their proper stations,
sought the Chieftain of Glennaquoich and his friend Edward
Waverley. He found the former busied in determining disputes
among his clansmen about points of precedence and deeds of
valour, besides sundry high and doubtful questions concerning
plunder. The most important of the last respected the property
of a gold watch, which had once belonged to some unfortunate
English officer. The party against whom judgement was awarded
consoled himself by observing, 'She (i.e. the watch, which he
took for a living animal) died the very night Vich Ian Vohr gave
her to Murdock;' the machine having, in fact, stopped for want of
winding up.

It was just when this important question was decided, that the
Baron of Bradwardine, with a careful and yet important expression
of countenance, joined the two young men. He descended from his
reeking charger, the care of which he recommended to one of his
grooms. 'I seldom ban, sir,' said he to the man; 'but if you
play any of your hound's-foot tricks, and leave puir Berwick
before he's sorted, to rin after spuilzie, deil be wi' me if I do
not; give your craig a thraw. He then stroked with great
complacency the animal which had borne him through the fatigues
of the day, and having taken a tender leave of him,--'Weel, my
good young friends, a glorious and decisive victory,' said he;
'but these loons of troopers fled ower soon. I should have liked
to have shown you the true points of the PRAELIUM EQUESTRE, or
equestrian combat, whilk their cowardice has postponed, and which
I hold to be the pride and terror of warfare. Weel, I have
fought once more in this old quarrel, though I admit I could not
be so far BEN as you lads, being that it was my point of duty to
keep together our handful of horse. And no cavalier ought in any
wise to begrudge honour that befalls his companions, even though
they are ordered upon thrice his danger, whilk, another time, by
the blessing of God, may be his own case.--But, Glennaquoich, and
you, Mr. Waverley, I pray ye to give me your best advice on a
matter of mickle weight, and which deeply affects the honour of
the house of Bradwardine.--I crave your pardon, Ensign
Maccombich, and yours, Inveraughlin, and yours, Edderalshendrach,
and yours, sir.'

The last person he addressed was Ballenkeiroch, who, remembering
the death of his son, loured on him with a look of savage
defiance. The Baron, quick as lightning at taking umbrage, had
already bent his brow, when Glennaquoich dragged his major from
the spot, and remonstrated with him, in the authoritative tone of
a chieftain, on the madness of reviving a quarrel in such a
moment.

'The ground is cumbered with carcases,' said the old mountaineer,
turning sullenly away; 'ONE MORE would hardly have been kenn'd
upon it; and if it wasna for yoursell, Vich Ian Vohr, that one
should be Bradwardine's or mine.'

The chief soothed while he hurried him away; and then returned to
the Baron. 'It is Ballenkeiroch,' he said, in an under and
confidential voice, 'father of the young man who fell eight years
since in the unlucky affair at the Mains.'

'Ah!' said the Baron, instantly relaxing the doubtful sternness
of his features, 'I can take mickle frae a man to whom I have
unhappily rendered sie a displeasure as that. Ye were right to
apprize me, Glennaquoich; he may look as black as midnight at
Martinmas ere Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine shall say he does him
wrang. Ah! I have nae male lineage, and I should bear with one
I have made childless, though you are aware the blood-wit was
made up to your ain satisfaction by assythment, and that I have
since expedited letters of slains.--Weel, as I have said, I have
no male issue, and yet it is needful that I maintain the honour
of my house; and it is on that score I prayed ye for your
peculiar and private attention,'

The two young men awaited to hear him in anxious curiosity.

'I doubt na, lads,' he proceeded, 'but your education has been
sae seen to, that ye understand the true nature of the feudal
tenures?'

Fergus, afraid of an endless dissertation, answered, 'Intimately,
Baron,' and touched Waverley, as a signal to express no
ignorance.

'And ye are aware, I doubt not, that the holding of the Barony of
Bradwardine is of a nature alike honourable and peculiar, being
blanch (which Craig opines ought to be Latinated BLANCUM, or
rather FRANCUM, a free holding) PRO SERVITIO DETRAHENDI, SEU
EXUENDI, CALIGAS REGIS POST BATTALIAM.' Here Fergus turned his
falcon eye upon Edward, with an almost imperceptible rise of his
eyebrow, to which his shoulders corresponded in the same degree
of elevation. 'Now, twa points of dubitation occur to me upon
this topic. First, whether this service, or feudal homage, be at
any event due to the person of the Prince, the words being, PER
EXPRESSUM, CALIGAS REGIS, the boots of the king himself; and I
pray your opinion anent that particular before we proceed
further.'

'Why, he is Prince Regent,' answered Mac-Ivor, with laudable
composure of countenance; 'and in the court of France all the
honours are rendered to the person of the Regent which are due to
that of the King. Besides, were I to pull off either of their
boots, I would render that service to the young Chevalier ten
times more willingly than to his father.'

'Aye, but I talk not of personal predilections. However, your
authority is of great weight as to the usages of the court of
France: and doubtless the Prince, as ALTER EGO, may have a right
to claim the HOMAGIUM of the great tenants of the crown, since
all faithful subjects are commanded, in the commission of
regency, to respect him as the king's own person. Far,
therefore, be it from me to diminish the lustre of his authority,
by withholding this act of homage, so peculiarly calculated to
give it splendour; for I question if the Emperor of Germany hath
his boots taken off by a free baron of the empire. But here
lieth the second difficulty--The Prince wears no boots, but
simply brogues and trews.'

This last dilemma had almost disturbed Fergus's gravity.

'Why,' said he, 'you know, Baron, the proverb tells us, "It's ill
taking the breeks off a Highlandman,"--and the boots are here in
the same predicament.'

'The word CALIGAE, however,' continued the Baron, 'though I
admit, that, by family tradition, and even in our ancient
evidents, it is explained LIE BOOTS, means, in its primitive
sense, rather sandals; and Caius Caesar, the nephew and successor
of Caius Tiberius, received the agnomen of Caigula, A CALIGULIS,
SIVE CALIGIS LEVIORIBUS, QUIBUS ADOLESCENTIOR USUS FUERAT IN
EXERCITU GERMANICI PATRIS SUI. And the CALIGAE were also proper
to the monastic bodies; for we read in an ancient Glossarium,
upon the rule of St. Benedict, in the Abbey of St. Amand, that
CALIGAE were tied with latchets.'

'That will apply to the brogues,' said Fergus.

'It will so, my dear Glennaquoich;--and the words are express:
CALIGAE DICTAE SUNT QUIA LIGANTUR; NAM SOCCI NON LIGANTUR, SED
TANTUM INTROMITTUNTUR; that is, CALIGAE are denominated from the
ligatures wherewith they are bound; whereas SOCCI, which may be
analogous to our mules, whilk the English denominate slippers,
are only slipped upon the feet, The words of the charter are also
alternative,--EXUERE, SEU DETRAHERE; that is, to UNDO, as in the
case of sandals or brogues; and to PULL OF, as we say
vernacularly, concerning boots. Yet I would we had more light;
but I fear there is little chance of finding hereabout any
erudite author DE RE VESTIARIA.'

'I should doubt it very much,' said the Chieftain, looking around
on the straggling Highlanders, who were returning loaded with
spoils of the slain, 'though the RES VESTIARIA itself seems to be
in some request at present.'

This remark coming within the Baron's idea of jocularity, he
honoured it with a smile, but immediately resumed what to him
appeared very serious business. 'Bailie Macwheeble indeed holds
an opinion, that this honorary service is due, from its very
nature, SI PETATUR TANTUM; only if his Royal Highness shall
require of the great tenant of the crown to perform that personal
duty; and indeed he pointed out the case in Dirleton's DOUBTS AND
QUERIES, Grippit VERSUS Spicer, anent the eviction of an estate
OB NON SOLUTUM CANONEM, that is, for non-payment of a feu-duty of
three peppercorns a year, whilk were taxt to be worth seven-
eighths of a penny Scots, in whilk the defender was assoilzied.
But I deem it safest, wi' your good favour, to place myself in
the way of rendering the Prince this service, and to proffer
performance thereof; and I shall cause the Bailie to attend with
a schedule of a protest, whilk he has here prepared (taking out a
paper), intimating, that if it shall be his Royal Highness's
pleasure to accept of other assistance at pulling off his CALIGAE
(whether the same shall be rendered boots or brogues) save that
of the said Baron of Bradwardine, who is in presence ready and
willing to perform the same, it shall in no wise impinge upon or
prejudice the right of the said Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine to
perform the said service in future; nor shall it give any
esquire, valet of the chamber, squire, or page, whose assistance
it may please his Royal Highness to employ, any right, title, or
ground, for evicting from the said Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine the
estate and barony of Bradwardine, and others held as aforesaid,
by the due and faithful performance thereof.'

Fergus highly applauded this arrangement; and the Baron took a
friendly leave of them, with a smile of contented importance upon
his visage.

'Long live our dear friend the Baron,' exclaimed the Chief, as
soon as he was out of hearing, 'for the most absurd original that
exists north of the Tweed! I wish to heaven I had recommended
him to attend the circle this evening with a boot-ketch under his
arm. I think he might have adopted the suggestion, if it had
been made with suitable gravity.'

'And how can you take pleasure in making a man of his worth so
ridiculous?'

'Begging pardon, my dear Waverley, you are as ridiculous as he.
Why, do you not see that the man's whole mind is wrapped up in
this ceremony? He has heard and thought of it since infancy, as
the most august privilege and ceremony in the world; and I doubt
not but the expected pleasure of performing it was a principal
motive with him for taking up arms. Depend upon it, had I
endeavoured to divert him from exposing himself, he would have
treated me as an ignorant conceited coxcomb, or perhaps might
have taken a fancy to cut my throat; a pleasure which he once
proposed to himself upon some point of etiquette, not half so
important, in his eyes, as this matter of boots or brogues, or
whatever the CALIGAE shall finally be pronounced by the learned.
But I must go to head-quarters to prepare the Prince for this
extraordinary scene. My information will be well taken, for it
will give him a hearty laugh at present, and put him on his guard
against laughing, when it might be very MAL-A-PROPOS. So, AU
REVOIR, my dear Waverley.'

CHAPTER XLIX

THE ENGLISH PRISONER

The first occupation of Waverley, after he departed from the
Chieftain, was to go in quest of the officer whose life he had
saved. He was guarded, along with his companions in misfortune,
who were very numerous, in a gentleman's house near the field of
battle.

On entering the room where they stood crowded together, Waverley
easily recognized the object of his visit, not only by the
peculiar dignity of his appearance, but by the appendage of
Dugald Mahony, with his battle-axe, who had stuck to him from the
moment of his captivity, as if he had been skewered to his side.
This close attendance was, perhaps, for the purpose of securing
his promised reward from Edward, but it also operated to save the
English gentleman from being plundered in the scene of general
confusion; for Dugald sagaciously argued, that the amount of the
salvage which he might be allowed, would be regulated by the
state of the prisoner, when he should deliver him over to
Waverley, He hastened to assure Waverley, therefore, with more
words than he usually employed, that he had 'keepit ta SIDIER ROY
haill, and that he wasna a plack the waur since the fery moment
when his honour forbad her to gie him a bit clamhewit wi' her
Lochaber-axe.'

Waverley assured Dugald of a liberal recompense, and, approaching
the English officer, expressed his anxiety to do anything which
might contribute to his convenience under his present unpleasant
circumstances.

'I am not so inexperienced a soldier, sir,' answered the
Englishman, 'as to complain of the fortune of war. I am only
grieved to see those scenes acted in our own island, which I have
often witnessed elsewhere with comparative indifference.'

'Another such day as this,' said Waverley, 'and I trust the cause
of your regrets will be removed, and all will again return to
peace and order.'

The officer smiled and shook his head. 'I must not forget my
situation so far as to attempt a formal confutation of that
opinion; but, notwithstanding your success, and the valour which
achieved it, you have undertaken a task to which your strength
appears wholly inadequate.'

At this moment Fergus pushed into the press.

'Come, Edward, come along; the Prince has gone to Pinkie-house
for the night; and we must follow, or lose the whole ceremony of
the CALIGAE. Your friend, the Baron, has been guilty of a great
piece of cruelty; he has insisted upon dragging Bailie Macwheeble
out to the field of battle. Now you must know the Bailie's
greatest horror is an armed Highlander, or a loaded gun; and
there he stands, listening to the Baron's instructions concerning
the protest; ducking his head like a sea-gull at the report of
every gun and pistol that our idle boys are firing upon the
fields; and undergoing, by way of penance, at every symptom of
flinching, a severe rebuke from his patron, who would not admit
the discharge of a whole battery of cannon, within point-blank
distance, as an apology for neglecting a discourse, in which the
honour of his family is interested.

'But how has Mr. Bradwardine got him to venture so far?' said
Edward.

'Why, he had come as far as Musselburgh, I fancy, in hopes of
making some of our wills; and the peremptory commands of the
Baron dragged him forward to Preston after the battle was over.
He complains of one or two of our ragamuffins having put him in
peril of his life, by presenting their pieces at him; but as they
limited his ransom to an English penny, I don't think we need
trouble the provost-marshal upon that subject. So, come along,
Waverley.'

'Waverley!' said the English officer, with great emotion; 'the
nephew of Sir Everard Waverley, of --shire?'

'The same, sir,' replied our hero, somewhat surprised at the tone
in which he was addressed.

'I am at once happy and grieved,' said the prisoner, 'to have met
with you.'

'I am ignorant, sir,' answered Waverley, 'how I have deserved so
much interest.'

'Did your uncle never mention a friend called Talbot?'

'I have heard him talk with great regard of such a person,'
replied Edward; 'a colonel, I believe, in the army, and the
husband of Lady Emily Blandeville; but I thought Colonel Talbot
had been abroad.'

'I am just returned,' answered the officer; 'and being in
Scotland, thought it my duty to act where my services promised to
be useful. Yes, Mr. Waverley, I am that Colonel Talbot, the
husband of the lady you have named; and I am proud to
acknowledge, that I owe alike my professional rank and my
domestic happiness to your generous and noble-minded relative.
Good God! that I should find his nephew in such a dress, and
engaged in such a cause!'

'Sir,' said Fergus, haughtily, 'the dress and cause are those of
men of birth and honour.'

'My situation forbids me to dispute your assertion,' said Colonel
Talbot; 'otherwise it were no difficult matter to show, that
neither courage nor pride of lineage can gild a bad cause. But,
with Mr. Waverley's permission, and yours, sir, if yours also
must be asked, I would willingly speak a few words with him on
affairs connected with his own family.'

'Mr. Waverley, sir, regulates his own motions. You will follow
me, I suppose, to Pinkie,' said Fergus, turning to Edward, 'when
you have finished your discourse with this new acquaintance?' So
saying, the Chief of Glennaquoich adjusted his plaid with rather
more than his usual air of haughty assumption, and left the
apartment.

The interest of Waverley readily procured for Colonel Talbot the
freedom of adjourning to a large garden belonging to his place of
confinement. They walked a few paces in silence, Colonel Talbot
apparently studying how to open what he had to say; at length he
addressed Edward.

'Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life; and yet I would
to God that I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing the
uniform and cockade of these men.'

'I forgive your reproach, Colonel Talbot; it is well meant, and
your education and prejudices render it natural. But there is
nothing extraordinary in finding a man, whose honour has been
publicly and unjustly assailed, in the situation which promised
most fair to afford him satisfaction on his calumniators.'

'I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm the
reports which they have circulated,' said Colonel Talbot, 'by
following the very line of conduct ascribed to you. Are you
aware, Mr. Waverley, of the infinite distress, and even danger,
which your present conduct has occasioned to your nearest
relatives?'

'Danger!'

'Yes, sir, danger. When I left England, your uncle and father
had been obliged to find bail to answer a charge of treason, to
which they were only admitted by the exertion of the most
powerful interest. I came down to Scotland, with the sole
purpose of rescuing you from the gulf into which you have
precipitated yourself; nor can I estimate the consequences to
your family, of your having openly joined the rebellion, since
the very suspicion of your intention was so perilous to them.
Most deeply do I regret that I did not meet you before this last
and fatal error.'

'I am really ignorant,' said Waverley, in a tone of reserve, 'why
Colonel Talbot should have taken so much trouble on my account.'

'Mr. Waverley,' answered Talbot, 'I am dull at apprehending
irony; and therefore I shall answer your words according to their
plain meaning. I am indebted to your uncle for benefits greater
than those which a son owes to a father. I acknowledge to him
the duty of a son; and as I know there is no manner in which I
can requite his kindness so well as by serving you, I will serve
you, if possible, whether you will permit me or no. The personal
obligation which you have this day laid me under (although in
common estimation as great as one human being can bestow on
another) adds nothing to my zeal on your behalf; nor can that
zeal be abated by any coolness with which you may please to
receive it.'

'Your intentions may be kind, sir,' said Waverley, drily; 'but
your language is harsh, or at least peremptory.'

'On my return to England,' continued Colonel Talbot, 'after long
absence, I found your uncle, Sir Everard Waverley, in the custody
of a king's messenger, in consequence of the suspicion brought
upon him by your conduct. He is my oldest friend--how often
shall I repeat it?--my best benefactor; he sacrificed his own
views of happiness to mine--he never uttered a word, he never
harboured a thought, that benevolence itself might not have
thought or spoken. I found this man in confinement, rendered
harsher to him by his habits of life, his natural dignity of
feeling, and--forgive me, Mr. Waverley--by the cause through
which this calamity had come upon him. I cannot disguise from
you my feelings upon this occasion; they were most painfully
unfavourable to you. Having, by my family interest, which you
probably know is not inconsiderable, succeeded in obtaining Sir
Everard's release, I set out for Scotland. I saw Colonel
Gardiner, a man whose fate alone is sufficient to render this
insurrection for ever execrable. In the course of conversation
with him, I found, that, from late circumstances, from a re-
examination of the persons engaged in the mutiny, and from his
original good opinion of your character, he was much softened
towards you; and I doubted not, that if I could be so fortunate
as to discover you, all might yet be well. But this unnatural
rebellion has ruined all. I have, for the first time in a long
and active military life, seen Britons disgrace themselves by a
panic flight, and that before a foe without either arms or
discipline: and now I find the heir of my dearest friend--the
son, I may say, of his affections--sharing a triumph, for which
he ought the first to have blushed. Why should I lament
Gardiner? his lot was happy, compared to mine!'

There was so much dignity in Colonel Talbot's manner, such a
mixture of military pride and manly sorrow, and the news of Sir
Everard's imprisonment was told in so deep a tone of feeling,
that Edward stood mortified, abashed, and distressed in presence
of the prisoner, who owed to him his life not many hours before.
He was not sorry when Fergus interrupted their conference a
second time.

'His Royal Highness commands Mr. Waverley's attendance.' Colonel
Talbot threw upon Edward a reproachful glance, which did not
escape the quick eye of the Highland Chief. 'His immediate
attendance,' he repeated, with considerable emphasis. Waverley
turned again towards the Colonel.

'We shall meet again,' he said; 'in the meanwhile, every possible
accommodation'--

'I desire none,' said the Colonel; 'let me fare like the meanest
of those brave men, who, on this day of calamity, have preferred
wounds and captivity to flight; I would, almost exchange places
with one of those who have fallen, to know that my words have
made a suitable impression on your mind.'

'Let Colonel Talbot be carefully secured,' said Fergus to the
Highland officer, who commanded the guard over the prisoners; 'it
is the Prince's particular command; he is a prisoner of the
utmost importance.'

'But let him want no accommodation suitable to his rank,' said
Waverley.

'Consistent always with secure custody,' reiterated Fergus. The
officer signified his acquiescence in both commands, and Edward
followed Fergus to the garden-gate, where Callum Beg, with three
saddle-horses, awaited them. Turning his head, he saw Colonel
Talbot reconducted to his place of confinement by a file of
Highlanders; he lingered on the threshold of the door, and made a
signal with his hand towards Waverley, as if enforcing the
language he had held towards him.

'Horses,' said Fergus, as he mounted, 'are now as plenty as
blackberries; every man may have them for the catching. Come,
let Callum adjust your stirrups, and let us to Pinkie-house
[Charles Edward took up his quarters after the battle at Pinkie-
house, adjoining to Musselburgh.] as fast as these CI-DEVANT
dragoon-horses choose to carry us.'

CHAPTER L

RATHER UNIMPORTANT

'I was turned back,' said Fergus to Edward, as they galloped from
Preston to Pinkie-house, 'by a message from the Prince. But, I
suppose, you know the value of this most noble Colonel Talbot as
a prisoner. He is held one of the best officers among the red-
coats; a special friend and favourite of the Elector himself, and
of that dreadful hero, the Duke of Cumberland, who has been
summoned from his triumphs at Fontenoy, to come over and devour
us poor Highlanders alive. Has he been telling you how the bells
of St. James's ring? Not "turn again, Whittington," like those
of Bow, in the days of yore?'

'Fergus!' said Waverley, with a reproachful look.

'Nay, I cannot tell what to make of you,' answered the Chief of
Mac-Ivor, 'you are blown about with every wind of doctrine. Here
have we gained a victory, unparalleled in history--and your
behaviour is praised by every living mortal to the skies--and the
Prince is eager to thank you in person--and all our beauties of
the White Rose are pulling caps for you,--and you, the PREUX
CHEVALIER of the day, are stooping on your horse's neck like a
butter-woman riding to market, and looking as black as a
funeral!'

'I am sorry for poor Colonel Gardiner's death: he was once very
kind to me.'

'Why, then, be sorry for five minutes, and then be glad again;
his chance to-day may be ours to-morrow. And what does it
signify?--the next best thing to victory is honourable death; but
it is a PIS-ALLER, and one would rather a foe had it than one's
self.'

'But Colonel Talbot has informed me that my father and uncle are
both imprisoned by government on my account.'

'We'll put in bail, my boy; old Andrew Ferrara [See Note 29.]
shall lodge his security; and I should like to see him put to
justify it in Westminster Hall!'

'Nay, they are already at liberty, upon bail of a more civic
disposition.'

'Then why is thy noble spirit cast down, Edward? Dost think that
the Elector's Ministers are such doves as to set their enemies at
liberty at this critical moment, if they could or durst confine
and punish them? Assure thyself that either they have no charge
against your relations on which they can continue their
imprisonment, or else they are afraid of our friends, the jolly
cavaliers of old England. At any rate, you need not be
apprehensive upon their account; and we will find some means of
conveying to them assurances of your safety.'

Edward was silenced, but not satisfied, with these reasons. He
had now been more than once shocked at the small degree of
sympathy which Fergus exhibited for the feelings even of those
whom he loved, if they did not correspond with his own mood at
the time, and more especially if they thwarted him while earnest
in a favourite pursuit. Fergus sometimes indeed observed that he
had offended Waverley, but, always intent upon some favourite
plan or project of his own, he was never sufficiently aware of
the extent or duration of his displeasure, so that the
reiteration of these petty offences somewhat cooled the
volunteer's extreme attachment to his officer.

The Chevalier received Waverley with his usual favour, and paid
him many compliments on his distinguished bravery. He then took
him apart, made many inquiries concerning Colonel Talbot, and
when he had received all the information which Edward was able to
give concerning him and his connexions, he proceeded,--'I cannot
but think, Mr. Waverley, that since this gentleman is so
particularly connected with our worthy and excellent friend, Sir
Everard Waverley, and since his lady is of the house of
Blandeville, whose devotion to the true and loyal principles of
the Church of England is so generally known, the Colonel's own
private sentiments cannot be unfavourable to us, whatever mask he
may have assumed to accommodate himself to the times.'

'If I am to judge from the language he this day held to me, I am
under the necessity of differing widely from your Royal
Highness.'

'Well, it is worth making a trial at least. I therefore entrust
you with the charge of Colonel Talbot, with power to act
concerning him as you think most advisable;--and I hope you will
find means of ascertaining what are his real dispositions towards
our Royal Father's restoration.'

'I am convinced,' said Waverley, bowing, 'that if Colonel Talbot
chooses to grant his parole, it may be securely depended upon;
but if he refuses it, I trust your Royal Highness will devolve on
some other person than the nephew of his friend, the task of
laying him under the necessary restraint.'

'I will trust him with no person but you,' said the Prince,
smiling, but peremptorily repeating his mandate: 'it is of
importance to my service that there should appear to be a good
intelligence between you, even if you are unable to gain his
confidence in earnest. You will therefore receive him into your
quarters, and in case he declines giving his parole, you must
apply for a proper guard. I beg you will go about this directly.
We return to Edinburgh to-morrow.'

Being thus remanded to the vicinity of Preston, Waverley lost the
Baron of Bradwardine's solemn act of homage. So little, however,
was he at this time in love with vanity, that he had quite
forgotten the ceremony in which Fergus had laboured to engage his
curiosity. But next day a formal GAZETTE was circulated,
containing a detailed account of the battle of Gladsmuir, as the
Highlanders chose to denominate their victory. It concluded with
an account of the Court afterwards held by the Chevalier at
Pinkie-house, which contained this among other high-flown
descriptive paragraphs:

'Since that fatal treaty which annihilates Scotland as an
independent nation, it has not been our happiness to see her
princes receive, and her nobles discharge, those acts of feudal
homage, which, founded upon the splendid actions of Scottish
valour, recall the memory of her early history, with the manly
and chivalrous simplicity of the ties which united to the Crown
the homage of the warriors by whom it was repeatedly upheld and
defended. But on the evening of the 20th, our memories were
refreshed with one of those ceremonies which belong to the
ancient days of Scotland's glory. After the circle was formed,
Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, of that ilk, colonel in the service,
&c. &c. &c., came before the Prince, attended by Mr. D.
Macwheeble, the Bailie of his ancient barony of Bradwardine (who,
we understand, has been-lately named a commissary), and, under
form of instrument, claimed permission to perform, to the person
of his Royal Highness, as representing his father, the service
used and wont, for which, under a charter of Robert Bruce (of
which the original was produced and inspected by the Masters of
his Royal Highness's Chancery, for the time being), the claimant
held the barony of Bradwardine, and lands of Tully-Veolan. His
claim being admitted and registered, his Royal Highness having
placed his foot upon a cushion, the Baron of Bradwardine,
kneeling upon his right knee, proceeded to undo the latchet of
the brogue, or low-heeled Highland shoe, which our gallant young
hero wears in compliment to his brave followers. When this was
performed, his Royal Highness declared the ceremony completed;
and embracing the gallant veteran, protested that nothing but
compliance with an ordinance of Robert Bruce could have induced
him to receive even the symbolical performance of a menial office
from hands which had fought so bravely to put the crown upon the
head of his father. The Baron of Bradwardine then took
instruments in the hands of Mr. Commissary Macwheeble, bearing,
that all points and circumstances of the act of homage had been
RITE ET SOLENNITER ACTA ET PERACTA; and a corresponding entry was
made in the protocol of the Lord High Chamberlain, and in the
record of Chancery. We understand that it is in contemplation of
his Royal Highness, when his Majesty's pleasure can be known, to
raise Colonel Bradwardine to the peerage, by the title of
Viscount Bradwardine, of Bradwardine and Tully-Veolan, and that,
in the meanwhile, his Royal Highness, in his father's name and
authority, has been pleased to grant him an honourable
augmentation to his paternal coat of arms, being a budget or
boot-jack, disposed saltier-wise with a naked broadsword, to be
borne in the dexter cantle of the shield; and, as an additional
motto, on a scroll beneath, the words, "DRAW AND DRAW OFF"'

'Were it not for the recollection of Fergus's raillery,' thought
Waverley to himself, when he had perused this long and grave
document, 'how very tolerable would all this sound, and how
little should I have thought of connecting it with any ludicrous
idea! Well, after all, everything has its fair, as well as its
seamy side; and truly I do not see why the Baron's boot-jack may
not stand as fair in heraldry as the water-Buckets, waggons,
cart-wheels, plough-socks, shuttles, candlesticks, and other
ordinaries, conveying ideas of anything save chivalry, which
appear in the arms of some of our most ancient gentry.'--This,
however, is an episode in respect to the principal story.

When Waverley returned to Preston, and rejoined Colonel Talbot,
he found him recovered from the strong and obvious emotions with
which a concurrence of unpleasing events had affected him. He
had regained his natural manner, which was that of an English
gentleman and soldier, manly, open, and generous, but not
unsusceptible of prejudice against those of a different country,
or who opposed him in political tenets. When Waverley acquainted
Colonel Talbot with the Chevalier's purpose to commit him to his
charge, 'I did not think to have owed so much obligation to that
young gentleman,' he said, 'as is implied in this destination. I
can at least cheerfully join in the prayer of the honest
Presbyterian clergyman, that, as he has come among us seeking an
earthly crown, his labours may be speedily rewarded with a
heavenly one. [The clergyman's name was Mac-Vicar. Protected by
the cannon of the Castle, he preached every Sunday in the West
Kirk, while the Highlanders were in possession of Edinburgh; and
it was in presence of some of the Jacobites that he prayed for
Prince Charles Edward in the terms quoted in the text.] I shall
willingly give my parole not to attempt an escape without your
knowledge, since, in fact, it was to meet you that I came to
Scotland; and I am glad it has happened even under this
predicament. But I suppose we shall be 'but a short time
together. Your Chevalier (that is a name we may both give to
him), with his plaids and blue-caps, will, I presume, be
continuing his crusade southward?'

'Not as I hear; I believe the army makes some stay, in Edinburgh,
to collect reinforcements.'

'And to besiege the Castle?' said Talbot, smiling sarcastically.
'Well, unless my old commander, General Preston, turn false
metal, or the Castle sink into the North Loch, events which I
deem equally probable, I think we shall have some time to make up
our acquaintance. I have a guess that this gallant Chevalier has
a design that I should be your proselyte; and, as I wish you to
be mine, there cannot be a more fair proposal than to afford us
fair conference together. But as I spoke to-day under the
influence of feelings I rarely give way to, I hope you will
excuse my entering again upon controversy till we are somewhat
better acquainted.'

CHAPTER LI

INTRIGUES OF LOVE AND POLITICS

It is not necessary to record in these pages the triumphant
entrance of the Chevalier into Edinburgh after the decisive
affair of Preston. One circumstance, however, may be noticed,
because it illustrates the high spirit of Flora Mac-Ivor. The
Highlanders, by whom the Prince was surrounded, in the licence
and extravagance of this joyful moment, fired their pieces
repeatedly, and one of these having been accidentally loaded with
ball, the bullet grazed the young lady's temple as she waved her
handkerchief from a balcony. [See Note 30.] Fergus, who beheld
the accident, was at her side in an instant; and, on seeing that
the wound was trifling, he drew his broadsword, with the purpose
of rushing down upon the man by whose carelessness she had
incurred so much danger, when, holding him by the plaid, 'Do not
harm the poor fellow,' she cried; 'for Heaven's sake, do not harm
him! but thank God with me that the accident happened to Flora
Mac-Ivor; for had it befallen a Whig, they would have pretended
that the shot was fired on purpose.'

Waverley escaped the alarm which this accident would have
occasioned to him, as he was unavoidably delayed by the necessity
of accompanying Colonel Talbot to Edinburgh.

They performed the journey together on horseback, and for some
time, as if to sound each other's feelings and sentiments, they
conversed upon general and ordinary topics.

When Waverley again entered upon the subject which he had most at
heart, the situation, namely, of his father and his uncle,
Colonel Talbot seemed now rather desirous to alleviate than to
aggravate his anxiety. This appeared particularly to be the case
when he heard Waverley's history, which he did not scruple to
confide to him.

'And so,' said the Colonel, 'there has been no malice prepense,
as lawyers, I think, term it, in this rash step of yours; and you
have been trepanned into the service of this Italian knight-
errant by a few civil speeches from him, and one or two of his
Highland recruiting sergeants? It is sadly foolish, to be sure,
but not nearly so bad as I was led to expect. However, you
cannot desert, even from the Pretender, at the present moment,--
that seems impossible. But I have little doubt that, in the
dissensions incident to this heterogeneous mass of wild and
desperate men, some opportunity may arise, by availing yourself
of which, you may extricate yourself honourably from your rash
engagement before the bubble burst. If this can be managed, I
would have you go to a place of safety in Flanders, which I shall
point out. And I think I can secure your pardon from Government
after a few months' residence abroad.'

'I cannot; permit you, Colonel Talbot,' answered Waverley, 'to
speak of any plan which turns on my deserting an enterprise in
which I may have engaged hastily, but certainly voluntarily, and
with the purpose of abiding the issue.'

'Well,' said Colonel Talbot, smiling, 'leave me my thoughts and
hopes at least at liberty, if not my speech. But have you never
examined your mysterious packet?'

'It is in my baggage,' replied Edward; 'we shall find it in
Edinburgh.'

In Edinburgh they soon arrived. Waverley's quarters had been
assigned to him, by the Prince's express orders, in a handsome
lodging, where there was accommodation, for Colonel Talbot. His
first business was to examine his portmanteau, and, after a very
short search, out tumbled the expected packet. Waverley opened
it eagerly. Under a blank cover, simply addressed to E.
Waverley, Esq., he found a number of open letters. The uppermost
were two from Colonel Gardiner, addressed to himself. The
earliest in date was a kind and gentle remonstrance for neglect
of the writer's advice respecting the disposal of his time during
his leave of absence, the renewal of which, he reminded Captain
Waverley, would speedily expire. 'Indeed,' the letter proceeded,
'had it been otherwise, the news from abroad, and my instructions
from the War-office, must have compelled me to recall it, as
there is great danger, since the disaster in Flanders, both of
foreign invasion and insurrection among the disaffected at home.
I therefore entreat you will repair, as soon as possible, to the
head-quarters of the regiment; and I am concerned to add, that
this is still the more necessary, as there is some discontent in
your troop, and I postpone inquiry into particulars until I can
have the advantage of your assistance.'

The second letter, dated eight days later, was in such a style as
might have been expected from the Colonel's receiving no answer
to the first. It reminded Waverley of his duty as a man of
honour, an officer, and a Briton; took notice of the increasing
dissatisfaction of his men, and that some of them had been heard
to hint that their Captain encouraged and approved of their
mutinous behaviour; and, finally, the writer expressed the utmost
regret and surprise that he had not obeyed his commands by
repairing to head-quarters, reminded him that his leave of
absence had been recalled, and conjured him, in a style in which
paternal remonstrance was mingled with military authority, to
redeem his error by immediately joining his regiment. 'That I
may be certain,' concluded the letter, 'that this actually
reaches you, I dispatch it by Corporal Timms, of your troop, with
orders to deliver it into your own hand.'

Upon reading these letters, Waverley, with great bitterness of
feeling, was compelled to make the AMENDE HONORABLE to the memory
of the brave and excellent writer; for surely, as Colonel
Gardiner must have had every reason to conclude they had come
safely to hand, less could not follow, on their being neglected,
than that third and final summons, which Waverley actually
received at Glennaquoich, though too late to obey it. And his
being superseded, in consequence of his apparent neglect of this
last command, was so far from being a harsh or severe proceeding,
that it was plainly inevitable. The next letter he unfolded was
from the Major of the regiment, acquainting him that a report, to
the disadvantage of his reputation, was public in the country,
stating, that one Mr. Falconer of Ballihopple, or some such name,
had proposed, in his presence, a treasonable toast, which he
permitted to pass in silence, although it was so gross an affront
to the royal family, that a gentleman in company, not remarkable
for his zeal for government, had nevertheless taken the matter
up; and that, supposing the account true, Captain Waverley had
thus suffered another, comparatively unconcerned, to resent an
affront directed against him personally as an officer,and to go
out with the person by whom it was offered. The Major concluded,
that no one of Captain Waverley's brother officers could believe
this scandalous story, but it was necessarily their joint opinion
that his own honour, equally with that of the regiment, depended
upon its being instantly contradicted by his authority, &c. &c.
&c.

'What do you think of all this?' said Colonel Talbot, to whom
Waverley handed the letters after he had perused them.

'Think! it renders thought impossible. It is enough to drive me
mad.'

'Be calm, my young friend; let us see what are these dirty
scrawls that follow.'

The first was addressed, 'For Master W. Ruffin These,'--'Dear
sur, sum of our yong gulpins will not bite, thof I tuold them you
shoed me the squoire's own seel. But Timms will deliver you the
lettrs as desired, and tell ould Addem he gave them to squoir's
hond, as to be sure yours is the same, and shall be ready for
signal, and hoy for Hoy Church and Sachefrel, as fadur sings at
harvest-whome. Yours, deer Sur, H.H.

'Poscriff. Do' e tell squoire we longs to heer from him, and has
dootings about his not writing himself, and Lieftenant Bottler is
smoky.'

'This Ruffin, I suppose, then, is your Donald of the Cavern, who
has intercepted your letters, and carried on a correspondence
with the poor devil Houghton, as if under your authority?

'It seems too true. But who can Addem be?'

'Possibly Adam, for poor Gardiner, a sort of pun on his name.'

The other letters were to the same purpose, and they soon
received yet more complete light upon Donald Bean's machinations.

John Hedges, one of Waverley's servants, who had remained with
the regiment, and had been taken at Preston, now made his
appearance. He had sought out his master, with the purpose of
again entering his service. From this fellow they learned, that,
some time after Waverley had gone from the head-quarters of the
regiment, a pedlar, called Ruthven, Ruffin, or Rivane, known
among the soldiers by the name of Wily Will, had made frequent
visits to the town of Dundee. He appeared to possess plenty of
money, sold his commodities very cheap, seemed always willing to
treat his friends at the ale-house, and easily ingratiated
himself with many of Waverley's troop, particularly Sergeant
Houghton, and one Timms, also a non-commissioned officer. To
these he unfolded, in Waverley's name, a plan for leaving the
regiment, and joining him in the Highlands, where report said the
clans had already taken arms in great numbers. The men, who had
been educated as Jacobites, so far as they had any opinion at
all, and who knew their landlord, Sir Everard, had always been
supposed to hold such tenets, easily fell into the snare. That
Waverley was at a distance in the Highlands, was received as a
sufficient excuse for transmitting his letters through the medium
of the pedlar; and the sight of his well-known seal seemed to
authenticate the negotiations in his name, where writing might
have been dangerous. The cabal, however, began to take air, from
the premature mutinous language of those concerned. Wily Will
justified his appellative; for, after suspicion arose, he was
seen no more. When the Gazette appeared, in which Waverley was
superseded, great part of his troop broke out into actual mutiny,
but were surrounded and disarmed by the rest of the regiment. In
consequence of the sentence of a court-martial, Houghton and
Timms were condemned to be shot, but afterwards permitted to cast
lots for life. Houghton, the survivor, showed much penitence,
being convinced from the rebukes and explanations of Colonel
Gardiner, that he had really engaged in a very heinous crime. It
is remarkable, that, as soon as the poor fellow was satisfied of
this, he became also convinced that the instigator had acted
without authority from Edward, saying, 'If it was dishonourable
and against Old England, the squire could know naught about it;
he never did, or thought to do, anything dishonourable,--no more
didn't Sir Everard, nor none of them afore him, and in that
belief he would live and die that Ruffin had done it all of his
own head.'

The strength of conviction with which he expressed himself upon
this subject, as well as his assurances that the letters intended
for Waverley had been delivered to Ruthven, made that revolution
in Colonel Gardiner's opinion which he expressed to Talbot.

The reader has long since understood that Donald Bean Lean played
the part of tempter on this occasion. His motives were shortly
these. Of an active and intriguing spirit, he had been long
employed as a subaltern agent and spy by those in the confidence
of the Chevalier, to an extent beyond what was suspected even by
Fergus Mac-Ivor, whom, though obliged to him for protection, he
regarded with fear and dislike. To success in this political
department, he naturally looked for raising himself by some bold
stroke above his present hazardous and precarious state of
rapine. He was particularly employed in learning the strength of
the regiments in Scotland, the character of the officers, &c.,
and had long had his eye upon Waverley's troop, as open to
temptation. Donald even believed that Waverley himself was at
bottom in the Stuart interest, which seemed confirmed by his long
visit to the Jacobite Baron of Bradwardine. When, therefore, he
came to his cave with one of Glennaquoich's attendants, the
robber, who could never appreciate his real motive, which was
mere curiosity, was so sanguine as to hope that his own talents
were to be employed in some intrigue of consequence, under the
auspices of this wealthy young Englishman. Nor was he undeceived
by Waverley's neglecting all hints and openings for an
explanation. His conduct passed for prudent reserve, and
somewhat piqued Donald Bean, who, supposing himself left out of a
secret where confidence promised to be advantageous, determined
to have his share in the drama, whether a regular part were
assigned him or not. For this purpose, during Waverley's sleep,
he possessed, himself of his seal, as a token to be used to any
of the troopers whom he might discover to be possessed of the
captain's confidence. His first journey to Dundee, the town
where the regiment was quartered, undeceived him in his original
supposition, but opened to him a new field of action. He knew
there would be no service so well rewarded by the friends of the
Chevalier, as seducing a part of the regular army to his
standard. For this purpose, he opened the machinations with
which the reader is already acquainted, and which form a clue to
all the intricacies and obscurities of the narrative previous to
Waverley's leaving Glennaquoich.

By Colonel Talbot's advice, Waverley declined detaining in his
service the lad whose evidence had thrown additional light on
these intrigues. He represented to him that it would be doing
the man an injury to engage him in a desperate undertaking, and
that, whatever should happen, his evidence would go some length,
at least, in explaining the circumstances under which Waverley
himself had embarked in it. Waverley therefore wrote a short
statement of what had happened, to his uncle and his father,
cautioning them, however, in the present circumstances, not to
attempt to answer his letter. Talbot then gave the young man a
letter to the commander of one of the English vessels of war
cruising in the frith, requesting him to put the bearer ashore at
Berwick, with a pass to proceed to --shire. He was then
furnished with money to make an expeditious journey and directed
to get on board the ship by means of bribing a fishing-boat,
which, as they afterwards learned, he easily effected.

Tired of the attendance of Callum Beg, who, he thought, had some
disposition to act as a spy on his motions, Waverley hired as a
servant a simple Edinburgh swain, who had mounted the white
cockade in a fit of spleen and jealousy, because Jenny Jop had
danced a whole night with Corporal Bullock of the Fusileers.

CHAPTER LII

INTRIGUES OF SOCIETY AND LOVE

Colonel Talbot became more kindly in his demeanour towards
Waverley after the confidence he had reposed in him; and as they
were necessarily much together, the character of the Colonel rose
in Waverley's estimation. There seemed at first something harsh
in his strong expressions of dislike and censure, although no one
was in the general case more open to conviction. The habit of
authority had also given his manners some peremptory hardness,
notwithstanding the polish which they had received from his
intimate acquaintance with the higher circles. As a specimen of
the military character, he differed from all whom Waverley had as
yet seen. The soldiership of the Baron of Bradwardine was marked
by pedantry; that of Major Melville by a sort of martinet
attention to the minutiae and technicalities of discipline,
rather suitable to one who was to manoeuvre a battalion, than to
him who was to command an army; the military spirit of Fergus was
so much warped and blended with his plans and political views,
that it was less that of a soldier than of a petty sovereign.
But Colonel Talbot was in every point the English soldier. His
whole soul was devoted to the service of his king and country,
without feeling any pride in knowing the theory of his art with
the Baron, or its practical minutiae with the Major, or in
applying his science to his own particular plans of ambition,
like the Chieftain of Glennaquoich. Added to this, he was a man
of extended knowledge and cultivated taste, although strongly
tinged, as we have already observed, with those prejudices which
are peculiarly English.

The character of Colonel Talbot dawned upon Edward by degrees;
for the delay of the Highlanders in the fruitless siege of
Edinburgh Castle occupied several weeks, during which Waverley
had little to do, excepting to seek such amusement as society
afforded. He would willingly have persuaded his new friend to
become acquainted with some of his former intimates. But the
Colonel, after one or two visits, shook his head, and declined
further experiment. Indeed he went further, and characterized
the Baron as the most intolerable formal pedant he had ever had
the misfortune to meet with, and the Chief of Glennaquoich as a
Frenchified Scotchman, possessing all the cunning and
plausibility of the nation where he was educated, with the proud,
vindictive, and turbulent humour of that of his birth. 'If the
devil,' he said, 'had sought out an agent expressly for the
purpose of embroiling this miserable country, I do not think he
could find a better than such a fellow as this, whose temper
seems equally active, supple, and mischievous, and who is
followed, and implicitly obeyed, by a gang of such cut-throats as
those whom you are pleased to admire so much.'

The ladies of the party did not escape his censure. He allowed
that Flora Mac-Ivor was a fine woman, and Rose Bradwardine a
pretty girl. But he alleged that the former destroyed the effect
of her beauty by an affectation of the grand airs which she had
probably seen practised at the mock court of St. Germains. As
for Rose Bradwardine, he said it was impossible for any mortal to
admire such a little uninformed thing, whose small portion of
education was as ill adapted to her sex or youth, as if she had
appeared with one of her father's old campaign-coats upon her
person for her sole garment. Now much of this was mere spleen
and prejudice in the excellent Colonel, with whom the white
cockade on the breast, the white rose in the hair, and the Mac at
the beginning of a name, would have made a devil out of an angel;
and indeed he himself jocularly allowed, that he could not have
endured Venus herself, if she had been announced in a drawing-
room by the name of Miss Mac-Jupiter.

Waverley, it may easily be believed, looked upon these young
ladies with very different eyes. During the period of the siege,
he paid them almost daily visits, although he observed with
regret that his suit made as little progress in the affections of
the former as the arms of the Chevalier in subduing the fortress.
She maintained with rigour the rule she had laid down of treating
him with indifference, without either affecting to avoid him, or
to shun intercourse with him. Every word, every look, was
strictly regulated to accord with her system, and neither the
dejection of Waverley, nor the anger which Fergus scarcely
suppressed, could extend Flora's attention to Edward beyond that
which the most ordinary politeness demanded. On the other hand,
Rose Bradwardine gradually rose in Waverley's opinion. He had
several opportunities of remarking, that, as her extreme timidity
wore off, her manners received a higher character; that the
agitating circumstances of the stormy time seemed to call forth a
certain dignity of feeling and expression, which he had not
formerly observed; and that she omitted no opportunity within her
reach to extend her knowledge and refine her taste.

Flora Mac-Ivor called Rose her pupil, and was attentive to assist
her in her studies, and to fashion both her taste and
understanding. It might have been remarked by a very close
observer, that in the presence of Waverley she was much more
desirous to exhibit her friend's excellences than her own. But I
must request of the reader to suppose, that this kind and
disinterested purpose was concealed by the most cautious
delicacy, studiously shunning the most distant approach to
affectation. So that it was as unlike the usual exhibition of
one pretty woman affecting to PRONER another, as the friendship
of David and Jonathan might be to the intimacy of two Bond-street
loungers.

The fact is, that, though the effect was felt, the cause could
hardly be observed. Each of the ladies, like two excellent
actresses, were perfect in their parts, and performed them to the
delight of the audience; and such being the case, it was almost
impossible to discover that the elder constantly ceded to her
friend that which was most suitable to her talents.

But to Waverley, Rose Bradwardine possessed an attraction which
few men can resist, from the marked interest which she took in
everything that effected him. She was too young and too
inexperienced to estimate the full force of the constant
attention which she paid to him. Her father was too abstractedly
immersed in learned and military discussions to observe her
partiality, and Flora Mac-Ivor did not alarm her by remonstrance,
because she saw in this line of conduct the most probable chance
of her friend securing at length a return of affection.

The truth is, that, in her first conversation after their
meeting, Rose had discovered the state of her mind to that acute
and intelligent friend, although she was not herself aware of it.
From that time, Flora was not only determined upon the final
rejection of Waverley's addresses, but became anxious that they
should, if possible, be transferred to her friend. Nor was she
less interested in this plan, though her brother had from time to
time talked, as between jest and earnest, of paying his suit to
Miss Bradwardine. She knew that Fergus had the true continental
latitude of opinion respecting the institution of marriage, and
would not have given his hand to an angel, unless for the purpose
of strengthening his alliances, and increasing his influence and
wealth. The Baron's whim of transferring his estate to the
distant heir-male instead of his own daughter, was therefore
likely to be an insurmountable obstacle to his entertaining any
serious thoughts of Rose Bradwardine. Indeed, Fergus's brain was
a perpetual workshop of scheme and intrigue of every possible
kind and description; while, like many a mechanic of more
ingenuity than steadiness, he would often unexpectedly and
without any apparent motive, abandon one plan, and go earnestly
to work upon another, which was either fresh from the forge of
his imagination, or had at some former period been flung aside
half finished. It was therefore often difficult to guess what
line of conduct he might finally adopt upon any given occasion.

Although Flora was sincerely attached to her brother, whose high
energies might indeed have commanded her admiration even without
the ties which bound them together, she was by no means blind to
his faults, which she considered as dangerous to the hopes of any
woman who should found her ideas of a happy marriage in the
peaceful enjoyment of domestic society, and the exchange of
mutual and engrossing affection. The real disposition of
Waverley, on the other hand, notwithstanding his dreams of tented
fields and military honour, seemed exclusively domestic. He
asked and received no share in the busy scenes which were
constantly going on around him, and was rather annoyed than
interested by the discussion of contending claims, rights, and
interests, which often passed in his presence. All this pointed
him out as the person formed to make happy a spirit like that of
Rose, which corresponded with his own.

She remarked this point in Waverley's character one day while she
sat with Miss Bradwardine. 'His genius and elegant taste,'
answered Rose, 'cannot be interested in such trifling
discussions. What is it to him, for example, whether the Chief
of the Macindallaghers, who has brought out only fifty men,
should be a colonel or a captain? and how could Mr. Waverley be
supposed to interest himself in the violent altercation between
your brother and young Corrinaschian, whether the post of honour
is due to the eldest cadet of a clan or the youngest?'
'My dear Rose, if he were the hero you suppose him, he would
interest himself in these matters, not indeed as important in
themselves, but for the purpose of mediating between the ardent
spirits who actually do make them the subject of discord. You
saw when Corrinaschian raised his voice in great passion, and
laid his hand upon his sword, Waverley lifted his head as if he
had just awaked from a dream, and asked, with great composure,
what the matter was.'

'Well, and did not the laughter they fell into at his absence of
mind, serve better to break off the dispute than anything he
could have said to them?'

'True, my dear,' answered Flora; 'but not quite so creditably for
Waverley as if he had brought them to their senses by force of
reason.'

'Would you have him peacemaker general between all the gunpowder
Highlanders in the army? I beg your pardon, Flora--your brother,
you know, is out of the question; he has more sense than half of
them. But can you think the fierce, hot, furious spirits, of
whose brawls we see much, and hear more, and who terrify me out
of my life every day in the world, are at all to be compared to
Waverley?'

'I do not compare him with those uneducated men, my dear Rose. I
only lament, that, with his talents and genius, he does not
assume that place in society for which they eminently fit him,
and that he does not lend their full impulse to the noble cause
in which he has enlisted. Are there not Lochiel, and P--, and
M--, and G--, all men of the highest education, as well as the
first talents?--why will he not stoop like them to be alive and
useful?--I often believe his zeal is frozen by that proud cold-
blooded Englishman, whom he now lives with so much.'

'Colonel Talbot?--he is a very disagreeable person, to be sure.
He looks as if he thought no Scottish woman worth the trouble of
handing her a cup of tea. But Waverley is so gentle, so well
informed'--

'Yes,' said Flora, smiling; 'he can admire the moon, and quote a
stanza from Tasso.'

'Besides, you know how he fought,' added Miss Bradwardine.

'For mere fighting,' answered Flora, 'I believe all men (that is,
who deserve the name) are pretty much alike; there is generally
more courage required to run away. They have, besides, when
confronted with each other, a certain instinct for strife, as we
see in other male animals, such as dogs, bulls, and so forth.
But high and perilous enterprise is not Waverley's forte. He
would never have been his celebrated ancestor Sir Nigel, but only
Sir Nigel's eulogist and poet. I will tell you where he will be
at home, my dear, and in his place,--in the quiet circle of
domestic happiness, lettered indolence, and elegant enjoyments,
of Waverley-Honour. And he will refit the old library in the
most exquisite Gothic taste, and garnish its shelves, with the
rarest and most valuable volumes; and he will draw plans and
landscapes, and write verses, and rear temples, and dig
grottoes;--and he will stand in a clear summer night in the
colonnade before the hall, and gaze on the deer as they stray in
the moonlight, or lie shadowed by the boughs of the huge old
fantastic oaks;--and he will repeat verses to his beautiful wife,
who will hang upon his arm;--and he will be a happy man.'

'And she will be a happy woman,' thought poor Rose. But she only
sighed, and dropped the conversation.

CHAPTER LIII

FERGUS A SUITOR

Waverly had, indeed, as he looked closer into the state of the
Chevalier's Court, less reason to be satisfied with it. It
contained, as they say an acorn includes all the ramifications of
the future oak, as many seeds of TRACASSERIE and intrigue, as
might have done honour to the Court of a large empire. Every
person of consequence had some separate object, which he pursued
with a fury that Waverley considered as altogether
disproportioned to its importance. Almost all had their reasons
for discontent, although the most legitimate was that of the
worthy old Baron, who was only distressed on account of the
common cause.

'We shall hardly,' said he one morning to Waverley, when they had
been viewing the castle,--'we shall hardly gain the obsidional
crown, which you wot well was made of the roots or grain which
takes root within the place besieged, or it may be of the herb
woodbind, PARETARIA, or pellitory; we shall not, I say, gain it
by this same blockade or leaguer of Edinburgh Castle.' For this
opinion, he gave most learned and satisfactory reasons, that the
reader may not care to hear repeated.

Having escaped from the old gentleman, Waverley went to Fergus's
lodgings by appointment, to await his return from Holyrood House.
'I am to have a particular audience to-morrow,' said Fergus to
Waverley, overnight, 'and you must meet me to wish me joy of the
success which I securely anticipate.'

The morrow came, and in the Chief's apartment he found Ensign
Maccombich waiting to make report of his turn of duty in a sort
of ditch which they had dug across the Castle-hill, and called a
trench. In a short time the Chief's voice was heard on the stair
in a tone of impatient fury:--'Callum,--why, Callum Beg,--
Diaoul!' He entered the room with all the marks of a man
agitated by a towering passion; and there were few upon whose
features rage produced a more violent effect. The veins of his
forehead swelled when he was in such agitation; his nostril
became dilated; his cheek and eye inflamed; and his look that of
a demoniac. These appearances of half-suppressed rage were the
more frightful, because they were obviously caused by a strong
effort to temper with discretion an almost ungovernable paroxysm
of passion, and resulted from an internal conflict of the most
dreadful kind, which agitated his whole frame of mortality.

As he entered the apartment, he unbuckled his broadsword, and
throwing it down with such violence that the weapon rolled to the
other end of the room, 'I know not what,' he exclaimed,
'withholds me from taking a solemn oath that I will never more
draw it in his cause. Load my pistols, Callum, and bring them
hither instantly;--instantly!' Callum, whom nothing ever
startled, dismayed, or disconcerted, obeyed very coolly. Evan
Dhu, upon whose brow the suspicion that his Chief had been
insulted, called up a corresponding storm, swelled in sullen
silence, awaiting to learn where or upon whom vengeance was to
descend.

'So, Waverley you are there,' said the Chief, after a moment's
recollection;--'Yes, I remember I asked you to share my triumph,
and you have come to witness my--disappointment we shall call
it.' Evan now presented the written report he had in his hand,
which Fergus threw from him with great passion. 'I wish to God,'
he said, 'the old den would tumble down upon the heads of the
fools who attack, and the knaves who defend it! I see, Waverley,
you think I am mad--leave us, Evan, but be within call.'

'The Colonel's in an unco kippage,' said Mrs. Flockhart to Evan,
as he descended; 'I wish he may be weel,--the very veins on his
brent brow are swelled like whipcord: wad he no tak something?'

'He usually lets blood for these fits,' answered the Highland
ancient with great composure.

When this officer left the room, the Chieftain gradually
reassumed some degree of composure.--'I know, Waverley,' he said,
'that Colonel Talbot has persuaded you to curse ten times a day
your engagement with us; nay, never deny it, for I am at this
moment tempted to curse my own. Would you believe it, I made
this very morning two suits to the Prince, and he has rejected
them both: what do you think of it?'

'What can I think,' answered Waverley, 'till I know what your
requests were?'

'Why, what signifies what they were, man? I tell you it was I
that made them,--I, to whom he owes more than to any three who
have joined the standard; for I negotiated the whole business,
and brought in all the Perthshire men when not one would have
stirred. I am not likely, I think, to ask anything very
unreasonable, and if I did they might have stretched a point.--
Well, but you shall know all, now that I can draw my breath again

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