WAVERLEY;

OR,

'TIS SIXTY YEARS SINCE

CHAPTER I.

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 judgment 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 Murdoch;" 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-fot tricks, and leave puir Berwick before he's sorted, to run after spulzie, deit be wi' me if I do not give your craig a thraw." He then stroked with great complacency, the ani-

mal 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 over soon. I should have liked to have shewn you the true points of the prælium equestre, or equestrian combat, whilk their cowardice has postponed, and which I hold to be the pride and terror of warfare. Well, 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 Brad wardine.-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 ken'd upon it, and if it was na 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," said he, in an under and confidential voice, "father of the