fice a member of that enlightened body of the British Convention. Be his memory, therefore, treated with due respect.

CHAPTER XXXV.

A Volunteer Sixty Years Since.

UPON hearing the unwelcome sound of the drum, Major Melville hastily opened a sashed door, and stepped out upon a sort of terrace which divided his house from the high-road, from which the martial music proceeded. Waverley and his new friend followed him, though probably he would have dispensed with their attendance. They soon recognised, in solemn march, first the performer upon the drum; secondly, a large flag of four compartments, in which were inscribed the words, COVENANT, KIRK, KING, KINGDOMS. The person who was honoured with this charge was followed by the commander of the party, a thin, dark, rigid-looking man, about sixty years old. The spiritual pride, which, in mine host of the Candlestick, mantled in a sort of supercilious hypocrisy, was, in this man's face, elevated and yet darkened, by genuine and undoubting fanaticism. It was impossible to behold him without the imagination placing him in some strange crisis, where religious zeal was the ruling principle. A martyr at the stake, a soldier in the field, a lonely and banished wanderer, consoled by the intensity and supposed purity of his faith, under every earthly privation; perhaps a persecuting inquisitor, as terrific in power as unyielding in adversity; any of these seemed congenial characters to this personage. With these high traits of energy, there was something in his affected precision, that bordered upon the ludicrous; so that, ac

cording to the mood of the spectator's mind, and the light under which Mr. Gilfillan presented himself, one might have feared, admired, or laughed at him. His dress was that of a west-country peasant, of better materials indeed than that of the lower rank, but in no respect affecting either the mode of that age, or of the Scottish gentry at any period. His arms were a broad-sword and pistols, which, from the antiquity of their appearance, might have seen the rout of Pentland, or Bothwell Brigg.

As he came a few steps to meet Major Melville, and touched solemnly, but slightly, his huge and overbrimmed blue bonnet, in answer to the major, who had courteously raised a small triangular goldlaced hat, Waverley was irresistibly impressed with the idea that he beheld a leader of the Roundheads of yore, in conference with one of Marlborough's captains. The group of about thirty armed men who followed this gifted commander, was of a motley description. They were in ordinary Lowland dresses, of different colours, which, contrasted with the arms they bore, gave them an irregular and mobbish ap pearance: so much is the eye accustomed to connect uniformity of dress with the military character. In front were a few who apparently partook of their leader's enthusiasm; men obviously to be feared in a combat where their natural courage was exalted by religious zeal. Others puffed and strutted, filled with the importance of carrying arms, and all the novelty of their situation; while the rest, apparently fatigued with the march, dragged their limbs listlessly along, or straggled from their companions to procure such refreshments as the neighbouring cottages and alehouses afforded. "Six grenadiers of Ligonier's," thought the major to himself, as his mind reverted to his own military experience, "would have sent all these fellows to the right about."

Greeting, however, Mr. Gilfillan civilly, he requested to know if he had received the letter he sent

to him upon his march, and could undertake the charge of the state-prisoner whom he there mentioned as far as Stirling Castle. "Yea," was the concise reply of the Cameronian leader, in a voice which seemed to issue from the very penetralia of his per

son.

"But your escort, Mr. Gilfillan, is not so strong as I expected."

"Some of the people," replied Gilfillan, "hungered and were athirst by the way, and tarried until their poor souls were refreshed with the word."

"I am sorry, sir, you did not trust to your refreshing your men at Cairnvreckan; whatever my house contains is at the command of persons employed in the service."

"It was not of creature-comforts I spake," answered the Covenanter, regarding Major Melville with something like a smile of contempt; "howbeit, I thank you: but the people remained waiting upon the precious Mr. Jabesh Rentowel for the out-pouring of the afternoon exhortation.

"And have you, sir, when the rebels are about to spread themselves through the country, actually left a great part of your command at a field-preaching?"

Gilfillan again smiled scornfully as he made this indirect answer" Even thus are the children of this world wiser in their generation than the children of light."

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However, sir," said the major," as you are to take charge of this gentleman to Stirling, and deliver him, with these papers, into the hands of Governor Blakeney, I beseech you to observe some rules of military discipline upon your march. For example, I would advise you to keep your men more closely together, and that each in his march should cover his file-leader, instead of straggling like geese upon a common; and, for fear of surprise, I further recommend to you to form a small advance-party of your

best men, with a single vidette, in front of the whole march, so that when you approach a village or wood" (Here the Major interrupted himself)

But as I don't observe you listen to me, Mr. Gilfillan, I suppose I need not give myself the trouble to say more upon the subject. You are a better judge, unquestionably, than I am, of the measures to be pursued; but one thing I would have you well aware of, that you are to treat this gentleman, your prisoner, with no rigour or incivility, and are to subject him to no other restraint than is necessary for his security."

“I have looked into my commission," said Mr. Gilfillan, “subscribed by a worthy and professing nobleman, William Earl of Glencairn, nor do I find it therein set down that I am to receive any charges or commands anent my doings from Major William Melville of Cairnvreckan."

Major Melville reddened even to the well-powdered ears, which appeared beneath his military side-curls, the more so, as he observed Mr. Morton smile at the same moment. "Mr. Gilfillan," he answered, with some asperity, "I beg ten thousand pardons for interfering with a person of your importance. I thought, however, that as you have been bred a grazier, if I mistake not, there might be occasion to remind you of the difference between Highlanders and Highland cattle; and if you should happen to meet with any gentleman who has seen service, and is disposed to speak upon the subject, I should still imagine that listening to him would do you no sort of harm. But I have done, and have only once more to recommend this gentleman to your civility, as well as to your custody. Mr. Waverley, I am truly sorry that we should part in this way; but I trust, when you are again in this country, 1 may have an opportunity to render Cairnvreckan more agreeable than circumstances have permitted on this occasion." So saying he shook our hero by the hand. Morton

also took an affectionate farewell; and Waverley having mounted his horse, with a musqueteer leading it by the bridle, and a file upon each side to prevent his escape, he set forward upon the march with Glinfillan. and his party. Through the little village they were accompanied with the shouts of the children, who cried out" Eh! see to the Southland gentleman, that's gaun to be hanged for shooting lang John Mucklewrath the smith."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

An Incident.

THE dinner-hour of Scotland, sixty years since, was two o'clock. It was therefore about four o'clock of a delightful autumn afternoon that Mr. Ginfillan commenced his march, in hopes, although Stirling was eighteen miles distant, he might be able, by becoming a borrower on the night for an hour or two, to reach it that evening. He therefore put forth his strength, and marched stoutly along at the head of his followers, eying our hero from time to time as if he longed to enter into controversy with him. At length, unable to resist the temptation, he slackened his pace till he was alongside of his prisoner's horse, and after marching a few steps in silence abreast of him, he suddenly asked, " Can ye say wha the carle was wi' the black coat and the mousted head wha was wi' the laird of Cairnvreckan?"

"A presbyterian clergyman," answered Waverley.

"Presbyterian! a wretched Erastian, or rather an obscure prelatist; a favourer of the black indulgence: ane of thae dumb dogs that canna bark; they tell

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