carriage belonging to his patron, the catholic gentleman at whose house Flora resided. As Fergus waved his hand to Edward, the ranks closed around the sledge, and the whole procession began to move forward. There was a momentary stop at the gateway, while the governor of the castle and the high sheriff went through a short ceremony, the military officer there delivering over the persons of the criminals to the civil power. "God save King George !" said the high Sheriff. When the formality concluded, Fergus stood erect in the sledge, and, with a firm and steady voice, replied, "God save King James!" These were the last words which Waverley heard him speak.

The procession resumed its march, and the sledge vanished from beneath the portal, under which it had stopped for an instant. The dead march, as it is called, was instantly heard, and its melancholy sounds were mingled with those of a muffled peal, toiled from the neighbouring cathedral. The sound of the military music died away as the procession moved on; the sudden clang of the bells was soon heard to sound alone.

The last of the soldiers had now disappeared from under the vaulted archway through which they had been filing for several minutes; the court-yard was now totally empty, but Waverley still stood there as if stupified, his eyes fixed upon the dark pass where he had so lately seen the last glimpse of his friend ; at length, a female servant of the governor, struck with surprise and compassion at the stupified misery which his countenance expressed, asked him if he would not walk into her master's house and sit down. She was obliged to repeat her question twice, ere he comprehended her, but at length it recalled him to himself;-declining the courtesy, by a hasty gesture, he pulled his hat over his eyes, and leaving the castle, walked as swiftly as he could through the empty

streets, till he regained his inn, then threw himself into an apartment and bolted the door.

In about an hour and a half, which seemed an age of unutterable suspense, the sound of the drums and fifes, performing a lively air, and the confused murmur of the crowd which now filled the streets, so lately deserted, apprized him that all was over, and that the military and populace were returning from the dreadful scene. I will not attempt to describe his

sensations.

In the evening the priest made him a visit, and informed him that he did so by directions of his deceased friend, to assure him that Fergus Mac-Ivor had died as he lived, and remembered his friendship to the last. He added, he had also seen Flora, whose state of mind seemed more composed since all was over. With her, and sister Theresa, the priest proposed next day to leave Carlisle, for the nearest sea-port, from which they could embark for France. Waverley forced on this good man a ring of some value, and a sum of money, to be employed (as he thought might gratify Flora) in the services of the catholic church, for the

memory of his friend. Fungarque inani munere,” he repeated as the ecclesiastic retired. Yet why

not class these acts of remembrance with other honours with which affection, in all sects, pursues the memory of the dead?

The next morning, ere day-light, he took leave of the town of Carlisle, promising to himself never again to enter its walls. He dared hardly look back towards the Gothic battlement of the fortified gate under which he passed, for the place is surrounded with an old wall. They're no there," said Alick Polwarth, who guessed the cause of the dubious looks which Waverley cast backward, and who, with the vulgar appetite for the horrible, was master of each detail of the butchery. "The heads are ower the Scotch yate, as they ca' it. It's a great pity of Evan

Dhu, who was a very weel-meaning, good-natured man, to be a Hielandman; and, indeed, so was the Laird o' Glennaquoich too, for that matter, when he was na in ane o' his tirrivies."

CHAPTER XXXI.

Dulce Domum.

THE impression of horror with which Waverley left Carlisle, softened by degrees into melancholy, a gradation which was accelerated by the painful, yet soothing, task of writing to Rose; and, while he could not suppress his own feelings of the calamity, by endeavouring to place it in a light which might grieve her, without shocking her imagination. The picture which he drew for her benefit he gradually familiarized to his own mind, and his next letters were more cheerful, and referred to the prospects of peace and happiness which lay before them. Yet, though his first horrible sensations had sunk into melancholy, Edward had reached his native country before he could, as usual upon former occasions, look round for enjoyment upon the face of nature.

He then, for the first time since leaving Edinburgh, began to experience the pleasure which almost all feel who return to a verdant, populous, and highlycultivated country, from scenes of waste desolation. or of solitary and melancholy grandeur. But how were those feelings enhanced when he entered on the domain so long possessed by his forefathers; recognised the old oaks of Waverley-Chace; thought with what delight he should introduce Rose to all his favourite haunts; beheld at length the towers of the venerable hall rise above the woods which embowered it, and finally threw himself into the arms of the venerable relations to whom he owed so much duty and affection!

The happiness of their meeting was not tarnished by a single word of reproach. On the contrary, whatever pain Sir Everard and Mrs. Rachel had felt during Waverley's perilous engagement with the young chevalier, it assorted too well with the principles in which they had been brought up, to incur reprobation, or even censure. Colonel Talbot, also, had smoothed the way, with great address, for Edward's favourable reception, by dwelling upon his gallant behaviour in the military character, particularly his bravery and generosity at Preston; until, warmed at the idea of their nephew's engaging in single combat, making prisoner, and saving from slaughter, so distinguished an officer as the colonel himself, the imagination of the baronet and his sister ranked the exploits of Edward with those of Wilibert, Hildebrand, and Nigel, the vaunted heroes of their line.

The appearance of Waverley, embrowned by exercise, and dignified by the habits of military discipline, had acquired an athletic and hardy character, which not only verified the colonel's narration, but surprised and delighted all the inhabitants of Waverley-Honour. They crowded to see, to hear him, and to sing his praises. Mr. Pembroke, who, it will readily be believed, secretly extolled his spirit and courage in embracing the genuine cause of the Church of England, censured his pupil gently, nevertheless, for being so careless of his manuscripts, which, indeed, he said, had occasioned him some personal inconvenience, as, upon the baronet's being arrested by a king's messenger, he had deemed it prudent to retire to a concealment called "the Priest's Hole," from the use it had been put to in former days; where, he assured our hero, the butler had thought it safe to venture with food only once in the day, so that he had been repeatedly compelled to dine upon victuals either absolutely cold, or, what was worse, only half warm, not to mention that sometimes his bed had not been arranged for two days