Good God! that I should find his nephew in such a dress, and engaged in such a cause!"

"Sir," said Fergus haughtily, "the dress and cause are those of men of birth and honour."

My situation forbids me to dispute your assertion; otherwise it were no difficult matter to show, that neither courage nor pride of lineage can gild a bad cause. But with Mr. Waverley's permission, and yours, sir, if yours also must be asked, I would willingly speak a few words with him on affairs connected with his family."

"Mr. Waverley, sir, regulates his own motions; you will follow me, I suppose, to Pinkie," said Fergus, turning to Edward," when you have finished your discourse with this new acquaintance?" So saying, the chief of Glennaquoich adjusted his plaid with rather more than his usual air of haughty assumption, and left the apartment.

The interest of Waverley readily procured for Colonel Talbot the freedom of adjourning to a large garden, belonging to his place of confinement. They walked a few paces in silence; Colonel Talbot apparently studying how to open what he had to say; at length he addressed Edward.

"Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life; and yet I would to God that I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing the uniform and cockade of these men."

"I forgive your reproach, Colonel Talbot; it is well meant, and your education and prejudices render it natural. But there is nothing extraordinary in finding a man whose honour has been publicly and unjustly assailed, in the situation which promised most fair to afford him satisfaction on his calumniators."

"I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm the reports which they have circulated,” said Colonel Talbot," by following the very line of conduct ascribed to you. Are you aware, Mr. Wa

verley, of the infinite distress, and even danger, which your present conduct has occasioned to your nearest relatives?"

"Danger?"

"Yes, sir, danger. When I left England, your uncle and father had been obliged to find bail to answer a charge of treason, to which they were only admitted by exertion of the most pressing interest. I came down to Scotland, with the sole purpose of rescuing you from the gulf into which you have precipitated yourself; nor can I estimate the consequences to your family, of your having openly joined the rebellion, since the very suspicion of your intentions was so perilous to them. Most deeply do I regret, that I did not meet you before this last and fatal error."

"I am really ignorant why Colonel Talbot should have taken so much trouble on my account.'

"Mr. Waverley, I am dull at apprehending irony, and therefore I shall answer your words according to their plain meaning. I am indebted to your uncle for benefits greater than those which a son owes to a father. I acknowledge to him the duty of a son; and as I know there is no manner in which I can requite his kindness so well as by serving you, I will serve you, if possible, whether you will permit me or no; the personal obligation which you have this day laid me under, (although, in common estimation, as great as one human being can bestow on another,) adds nothing to my zeal on your behalf, nor can it be abated by any coldness with which you may please to receive it."

"Your intentions may be kind, sir, but your language is harsh, or at least peremptory."

"On my return to England, after long absence, I found your uncle, Mr. Waverley, in the custody of a king's messenger, in consequence of the suspicion brought upon him by your conduct. He is my oldest friend-how often shall I repeat it-my best benefactor! he sacrificed his own views of happiness to mine;*

-he never uttered a word, he never harboured a thought, that benevolence might itself not have thought or spoken. I found this man in confinement, rendered harsher to him by his habits of life, his na tural dignity of feeling, and-forgive me, Mr. Waverley-by the cause through which the calamity had. come upon him. I can not disguise from you my feelings upon this occasion; they were most painfully unfavourable to you. Having, by my family interest, which you probably know is not inconsiderable, succeeded in obtaining Sir Everard's release, I set out for Scotland. I saw Colonel G, a man whose fate alone is sufficient to render this insurrection forever execrable. In the course of conversation with him, I found, that, from late circumstances from a re-examination of the persons engaged in the mutiny, and from his original good opinion of your character, he was much softened towards you; and I doubted not, that if I could be so fortunate as to discover you, all might yet have been well. But this unnatural rebellion has ruined all.

"I have, for the first time, in a long and active military life, seen Britons disgrace themselves, by a panic flight, and that before a foe without either arms or discipline: and now I find the heir of my dearest friend the son, I may say, of his affections-sharing a triumph for which he ought the first to have blushed. Why should I lament G―? his lot was happy, compared to mine."

There was so much dignity in colonel Talbot's manner, such a mixture of military pride and manly sorrow, and the news of Sir Everard's imprisonment was told in so deep a tone of feeling, that Edward stood mortified, abashed, and distressed, in presence of the prisoner, who owed to him his life not many hours before. He was not sorry when Fergus interrupted their conference a second time.

"His royal highness commanded Mr. Waverley's *attendance." Colonel Talbot threw upon Edward a

reproachful glance, which did not escape the quick eye of the Highland chief. "His immediate attendance," he repeated with considerable emphasis. Waverley turned again towards the colonel.

"We shall meet again," he said; " in the meanwhile every possible accommodation".

"I desire none," said the colonel; "let me fare like the meanest of those brave men, who, on this day of calamity have preferred wounds and captivity to flight; I would almost exchange places with one of those who has fallen, to know that my words have made a suitable impression on your mind."

"Let Colonel Talbot be carefully secured," said Fergus to the Highland officer, who commanded the guard over the prisoners; "it is the prince's particular command; he is a prisoner of the utmost impor

"But let him want no accommodation suitable to his rank," said Waverley..

"Consistent always with secure custody," reiterated Fergus. The officer signified his acquiescence in both commands, and Edward followed Fergus to the garden gate, where Callum Beg, with three saddlehorses awaited them. Turning his head he saw Colonel Talbot re-conducted to his place of confinement by a file of Highlanders; he lingered on the threshold of the door, and made a signal with his hand towards Waverley, as if enforcing the language he had held towards him.

"Horses," said Fergus, as he mounted," are now as plenty as blackberries; every man may have them for catching. Come, let Callum adjust your stirrups, and let us to Pinkie-house as fast as these ci-devant dragoon horses choose to carry us."

CHAPTER XII.

Rather Unimportant.

I WAS turned back," said Fergus to Edward, "by a message from the prince. But I suppose, you know the value of this most noble Colonel Talbot as a prisoner. He is held one of the best officers among the red-coats; a special friend and favourite of the elector himself, and of that dreadful hero the duke of Cumberland, who has been summoned from his triumphs at Fontenoy, to come over and devour us poor Highlanders alive. Has he been telling your how the bells of St. James's ring? Not turn again Whittington,' like those of Bow, in the days of yore?" "Fergus!"

"Nay, I can not tell what to make of you; you are blown about with every wind of doctrine. Here have we gained a victory unparalleled in historyand your behaviour is praised by every living mortal to the skies-and the prince is eager to thank you in person-and all our beauties of the White Rose are pulling caps for you-and you, the preux chevalier of the day, are stooping on your horse's neck like a butter-woman riding to market, and looking as black as a funeral!"

"I am sorry for poor Colonel G's death; he was once very kind to me.

"Why, then, be sorry for five minutes, and then be glad again; his chance to-day may be ours to-morrow; and what does it signify? The next best thing to victory is honourable death; but it is a pis-aller, and one would rather a foe had it than one's self."

"But Colonel Talbot has informed me that my father and uncle are both imprisoned by government on my account.”