trast with her sable dress and jet-black hair. Yet, amid these marks of distress, there was nothing negligent or ill-arranged about her dress-even her hair, though totally without ornament, was disposed with her usual attention to neatness. The first words she uttered, were, "Have you seen him?"

"Alas! no," answered Waverley," I have been refused admittance."

"It accords with the rest," she said, "but we must submit. Shall you obtain leave, do you suppose "For-for-to-morrow?" said Waverley, but muttering the last word so faintly that it was almost unintelligible.

66

Ay, then or never," said Flora, "until"-she added, looking upward," the time when, I trust, we shall all meet. But I hope you will see him while earth yet bears him. He always loved you at his heart, though-but it is vain to talk of the past.' "Vain indeed!" echoed Waverley.

"Or even of the future, my good friend, so far as earthly events are concerned; for how often have I pictured to myself the strong possibility of this hor rid issue, and tasked myself to consider how I could support my part, and yet how far has all my anticipation fallen short of the unimaginable bitterness of this hour?"

"Dear Flora, if your strength of mind”.

"Ay, there it is," she answered, somewhat wildly; "there is, Mr. Waverley-there is a busy devil at my heart, that whispers-but it were madness to listen to it-that the strength of mind on which Flora prided herself has-murdered her brother!"

"Good God! how can you give utterance to a though so shocking?"

Ay, is it not so? but yet it haunts me like a phantom: I know it is unsubstantial and vain; but it will

be present; will intrude its horrors on my mind; will whisper, that my brother, as volatile as ardent, would have divided his energies amid a hundred objects. It was I who taught him to centre them, and to gage all on this dreadful and desperate cast. Oh that I could recollect that I had but once said to him, 'He that striketh with the sword shall die by the sword;' that I had but once said, Remain at home, spare yourself, your vassals, your life, for enterprises within the reach of man. But Oh, Mr. Waverley, I spurred his fiery temper, and half of his ruin lies at least with his sister!"

The horrid idea which she had intimated, Edward endeavoured to combat by every incoherent argument that occurred to him. He recalled to her the principles on which both thought it their duty to act, and in which they had been educated.

"Do you think I have forgotten them," said she, looking up, with eager quickness; "I do not regret his attempt, because it was wrong: Oh, no: on that point I am armed; but because it was impossible it could end otherwise than thus."

"Yet it did not always seem so desperate and hazardous as it was; and it would have been chosen by the bold spirit of Fergus, whether you had approved it or no; your counsels only served to give unity and consistence to his conduct; to dignify, but not to precipitate his resolution." Flora had soon ceased to listen to Edward, and was again intent upon her needle-work.

"Do you remember," she said, looking up with a ghastly smile," you once found me making Fergus's bride-favour, and now I am sewing his bridal-garment; our friends here," said she, with suppressed emotion, "are to give hallowed earth in their chapel to the bloody reliques of the last Vich Ian Vohr. But they

will not all rest together; no-his head!-I shall not have the last miserable satisfaction of kissing the cold lips of my dear, dear Fergus."

The unfortunate Flora here, after one or two hysterical sobs, fainted in her chair. The lady, who had been attending in the ante-room, now entered hastily, and begged Edward to leave the room but not the

house.

When he was recalled, after the space of nearly half an hour, he found that, by a strong effort, Miss MacIvor had greatly composed herself. It was then he ventured to urge Miss Bradwardine's claim, to be considered as an adopted sister, and empowered to assist her plans for the future.

"I have had a letter from my dear Rose," she replied, to the same purpose. Sorrow is selfish and engrossing, or I would have written to express, that, even in my own despair, I felt a gleam of pleasure at learning her happy prospects, and at hearing that the good old baron has escaped the general wreck. Give this to my dearest Rose; it is her poor Flora's only ornament of value, and was the gift of a princess." She put into his hands a case, containing the chain of diamonds with which she used to decorate her hair. "To me it is in future useless. The kindness of my friends has secured me a retreat in the convent of the Scottish Benedictine nuns at Paris. To-morrow-if indeed I can survive to-morrow-I set forward on my journey with this venerable sister; and now, Mr. Waverley, adieu. May you be as happy with Rose as your amiable dispositions deserve; and think some. times on the friends you have lost. Do not attempt to see me again; it would be mistaken kindness."

She gave her hand, on which Edward shed a torrent of tears, and with a faultering step, withdrew from the apartment, and returned to the town of Carlisle. At the inn, he found a letter from his law friend,

intimating, that he would be admitted to Fergus next morning, as soon as the castle-gates were opened, and permitted to remain with him till the arrival of the sheriff gave signal for the fatal procession.

CHAPTER XXX.

A darker departure is near,

The death-drum is muffled, and sable the bier.

Campbell.

AFTER a sleepless night, the first dawn of morning found Waverley on the esplanade in front of the old Gothic gate of Carlisle Castle. But he paced it long in every direction, before the hour when, according to the rules of the garrison, the gates were opened, and the drawbridge lowered. He produced his order to the sergeant of the guard, and was admitted. The place of Fergus's confinement was a gloomy and vaulted apartment in the central part of the castle; a huge old tower, supposed to be of great antiquity, and surrounded by outworks, seemingly of Henry VIII.'s time, or somewhat later. The grating of the huge old-fashioned bars and bolts, withdrawn for the purpose of admitting Edward, was answered by the clash of chains, as the unfortunate chieftain, strongly and heavily fettered, shuffled along the stone floor of his prison, to fling himself into his friend's arms.

"My dear Edward," he said, in a firm, and even cheerful voice, "this is truly kind. I heard of your approaching happiness with the highest pleasure; and how does Rose? and how is our old whimsical friend the baron? Well, I am sure from your looks—and how will you settle precedence between the three ermines passant and the bear and boot-jack?"

How, oh, how, my dear Fergus, can you talk of such things at such a moment?"

Why, we have entered Carlisle with happier