£15,000, besides Brerewood Lodge-a very independe person, I promise you. There are bills here for £200; a larger sum you may have, or credit abroad, as soon as yo motions require it."

The first use which occurred to Waverley of his new acquired wealth was to write to honest Farmer Jopson, questing his acceptance of a silver tankard on the part of friend Williams, who had not forgotten the night of eighteenth December last. He begged him at the same carefully to preserve for him his Highland garb and acco ments, particularly the arms, curious in themselves, and which the friendship of the donors gave additional val Lady Emily undertook to find some suitable token of reme brance, likely to flatter the vanity and please the taste Mrs. Williams; and the Colonel, who was a kind of farm promised to send the Ulswater patriarch an excellent team horses for cart and plough.

One happy day Waverley spent in London; and, travelli in the manner projected, he met with Frank Stanley Huntingdon. The two young men were acquainted in

minute.

This proposal appea

"I can read my uncle's riddle," said Stanley; "the cautio old soldier did not care to hint to me that I might hand o to you this passport, which I have no occasion for; but it should afterwards come out as the rattle-pated trick of young Cantab, cela ne tire à rien. You are therefore to Francis Stanley, with this passport." in effect to alleviate a great part of the difficulties wh Edward must otherwise have encountered at every turn; accordingly he scrupled not to avail himself of it, the m especially as he had discarded all political purposes from present journey, and could not be accused of further machinations against the government while travelling und protection of the secretary's passport.

The day passed merrily away. The young student was quisitive about Waverley's campaigns, and the manners of Highlands, and Edward was obliged to satisfy his curiosity whistling a pibroch, dancing a strathspey, and singing a Hig land song. The next morning Stanley rode a stage northwa with his new friend, and parted from him with great relu ance, upon the remonstrances of Spontoon, who, accustom to submit to discipline, was rigid in enforcing it.

CHAPTER LXIII

DESOLATION

WAVERLEY riding post, as was the usual fashion of the period, rithout any adventure save one or two queries, which the alisman of his passport sufficiently answered, reached the orders of Scotland. Here he heard the tidings of the deisive battle of Culloden. It was no more than he had long xpected, though the success at Falkirk had thrown a faint ad setting gleam over the arms of the Chevalier. Yet it me upon him like a shock, by which he was for a time together unmanned. The generous, the courteous, the oble-minded Adventurer, was then a fugitive, with a price pon his head; his adherents, so brave, so enthusiastic, so ithful, were dead, imprisoned, or exiled. Where, now, was e exalted and high-souled Fergus, if, indeed, he had surved the night at Clifton? Where the pure-hearted and imitive Baron of Bradwardine, whose foibles seemed foils to t off the disinterestedness of his disposition, the genuine odness of his heart, and his unshaken courage? Those who ung for support to these fallen columns, Rose and Flora, here were they to be sought, and in what distress must not e loss of their natural protectors have involved them? Of ora, he thought with the regard of a brother for a sister; of ose, with a sensation yet more deep and tender. It might still his fate to supply the want of those guardians they had st. Agitated by these thoughts he precipitated his journey. When he arrived in Edinburgh, where his inquiries must cessarily commence, he felt the full difficulty of his situation. any inhabitants of that city had seen and known him as Award Waverley; how, then, could he avail himself of a ssport as Francis Stanley? He resolved, therefore, to avoid company, and to move northward as soon as possible. He is, however, obliged to wait a day or two in expectation of letter from Colonel Talbot, and he was also to leave his own dress, under his feigned character, at a place agreed upon. ith this latter purpose he sallied out in the dusk through the ell-known streets, carefully shunning observation, but in vain : le of the first persons whom he met at once recognised him. was Mrs. Flockhart, Fergus Mac-Ivor's good-humoured ndlady.

“Gude guide us, Mr. Waverley, is this you? na, ye needna

be feared for me. I wad betray nae gentleman in your circumstances-eh, lack a-day! lack a-day! here's a change o markets; how merry Colonel Mac-Ivor and you used to be in our house!" And the good-natured widow shed a few natur tears. As there was no resisting her claim of acquaintance Waverley acknowledged it with a good grace, as well as the danger of his own situation. "As it's near the darkening, s wad ye just step in by to our house, and tak a dish o' tea? an I am sure if ye like to sleep in the little room, I wad tak ca ye are no disturbed, and naebody wad ken ye; for Kate an Matty, the limmers, gaed aff wi' twa o' Hawley's dragoons and I hae twa new queans instead o' them."

Waverley accepted her invitation, and engaged her lodgi for a night or two, satisfied he should be safer in the house this simple creature than anywhere else. When he enter the parlour, his heart swelled to see Fergus's bonnet, with white cockade, hanging beside the little mirror.

'Ay," said Mrs. Flockhart, sighing, as she observed th direction of his eyes, 'the puir Colonel bought a new an just the day before they marched, and I winna let them t that ane doun, but just to brush it ilka day mysell; and while I look at it till I just think I hear him cry to Callum to bri him his bonnet, as he used to do when he was ganging out It's unco silly-the neighbours ca' me a Jacobite—but the may say their say-I am sure it's no for that-but he was a kind-hearted a gentleman as ever lived, and as weel-fa'rd to Oh, d'ye ken, sir, when he is to suffer ?"

"Suffer! Good heaven!-Why, where is he?”

66 Eh, Lord's sake! d'ye no ken? The poor Hieland bo Dugald Mahony, cam here a while syne, wi' ane o' his ar cuttit off, and a sair clour in the head-ye'll mind Dugald, carried aye an axe on his shouther-and he cam here ju begging, as I may say, for something to eat. Aweel, he tau us the Chief, as they ca'd him, (but I aye ca' him the Colone and Ensign Maccombich, that ye mind weel, were ta'en sor where beside the English border, when it was sae dark that folk never missed him till it was ower late, and they were to gang clean daft. And he said that little Callum Beg, was a bauld mischievous callant that,) and your honour, killed that same night in the tuilzie, and mony mae braw me But he grat when he spak o' the Colonel, ye never saw t like. And now the word gangs the Colonel is to be tried, to suffer wi' them that were ta'en at Carlisle."

We

an

"And his sister?" "Ay, that they ca'd the Lady Flora-weel, she's away up to arlisle to him, and lives wi' some grand Papist lady therepouts to be near him."

"And," said Edward, "the other young lady?"

"Whilk other? I ken only of ae sister the Colonel had." "I mean Miss Bradwardine," said Edward.

"She

"Ou, ay; the laird's daughter," said his landlady. is a very bonny lassie, poor thing, but far shyer than Lady

mora."

"Where is she, for God's sake?"

"Ou, wha kens where ony o' them is now? puir things, ey're sair ta'en doun for their white cockades and their ite roses; but she gaed north to her father's in Perthshire, en the government troops cam back to Edinbro'. There is some pretty men amang them, and ane Major Whacker is quartered on me, a very ceevil gentleman, but O, Mr. averley, he was naething sae weel fa'rd as the puir Colonel." "Do you know what has become of Miss Bradwardine's Cher?"

"The auld laird? na, naebody kens that; but they say he ught very hard in that bluidy battle at Inverness; and eacon Clank, the white-iron smith, says, that the governent folk are sair agane him for having been out twice; and oth he might hae ta'en warning, but there's nae fule like an ld fule—the puir Colonel was only out ance."

Such conversation contained almost all the good-natured dow knew of the fate of her late lodgers and acquaintances; at it was enough to determine Edward, at all hazards, to oceed instantly to Tully-Veolan, where he concluded he ould see, or at least hear something of Rose. He therefore ft a letter for Colonel Talbot at the place agreed upon, gned by his assumed name, and giving for his address the ost-town next to the Baron's residence.

From Edinburgh to Perth he took post-horses, resolving to ake the rest of his journey on foot; a mode of travelling which he was partial, and which had the advantage of ermitting a deviation from the road when he saw parties f military at a distance. His campaign had considerably trengthened his constitution, and improved his habits of nduring fatigue. His baggage he sent before him as opporunity occurred.

As he advanced northward, the traces of war became visible.

Broken carriages, dead horses, unroofed cottages, trees felle for palisades, and bridges destroyed, or only partially repaired, all indicated the movements of hostile armies. In thos places where the gentry were attached to the Stewart cause their houses seemed dismantled or deserted, the usual cour of what may be called ornamental labour was totally inte rupted, and the inhabitants were seen gliding about, wi fear, sorrow, and dejection on their faces.

It was evening when he approached the village of Tu Veolan, with feelings and sentiments-how different fro those which attended his first entrance! Then, life was new to him, that a dull or disagreeable day was one of greatest misfortunes which his imagination anticipated, a it seemed to him that his time ought only to be consecrat to elegant or amusing study, and relieved by social or yout ful frolic. Now, how changed! how saddened, yet h elevated was his character, within the course of a very months! Danger and misfortune are rapid, though seve teachers. "A sadder and a wiser man," he felt, in inter confidence and mental dignity, a compensation for the g dreams which, in his case, experience had so rapidly dissolva

fe

As he approached the village, he saw, with surprise anxiety, that a party of soldiers were quartered near it, an what was worse, that they seemed stationary there. This conjectured from a few tents which he beheld glimmeri upon what was called the Common Moor. To avoid t risk of being stopped and questioned in a place where he so likely to be recognised, he made a large circuit, altoget avoiding the hamlet, and approaching the upper gate of avenue by a by-path well known to him. A single glan announced that great changes had taken place. One h of the gate, entirely destroyed, and split up for firewood, in piles ready to be taken away; the other swung useless about upon its loosened hinges. The battlements above t gate were broken and thrown down, and the carved Bear which were said to have done sentinel's duty upon the to for centuries, now, hurled from their posts, lay among rubbish. The avenue was cruelly wasted. Several large tree were felled and left lying across the path; and the cattle the villagers, and the more rude hoofs of dragoon horses, h poached into black mud the verdant turf which Waverley h so much admired.

Upon entering the court-yard, Edward saw the fears realize