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light of the audience; and such being the case, it was alınost impossible to discover that the elder constantly ceded to her friend that which was most suitable to her talents.

But to Waverley, Rose Bradwardine possessed an attraction which few men can resist, from the marked interest which she took in every thing which affected him. She was too young and too inexperienced to estimate the full force of the constant attention which she paid to him. Her father was too abstractedly immersed in learned and military discussions to observe her partiality, and Flora MacIvor did not alarm her by remonstrance, because she saw in this line of conduct the most probable chance of her friend securing at length a return of affection.

The truth is, that in her first conversation after their meeting, Rose had discovered the state of her mind to that acute and intelligent friend, although she was not herself aware of it. From that time, Flora was not only determined upon the final rejection of Waverley's addresses, but became anxious that they should, if possible, be transferred to her friend. Nor was she less interested in this plan, though her brother had from time to time talked, as between jest and earnest, of paying his suit to Miss Bradwardine. She knew that Fergus had the true continental latitude of opinion respecting the institution of marriage, and would not have given his hand to an angel, unless for the purpose of strengthening his alliances, and increasing his influence and wealth. The Baron's whim of transferring his estate to the distant heir-male, instead of his own daughter, was therefore likely to be an insurmountable obstacle to his entertaining any serious thoughts of Rose Bradwardine. Indeed, Fergus's brain was a perpetual work-shop of scheme and intrigue, of every possible kind and description; while, like many a mechanic of more ingenuity than steadiness, he would often unexpectedly, and without any apparent motive, abandon one plan, and go earnestly to work upon another, which was either fresh from the forge of his imagination, or had at some former period been flung aside half finished. It was therefore often difficult to guess what line of conduct he might finally adopt upon any given occasion.

Althoagh Flora was sincerely attached to her brother, whose high energies might indeed have commanded her admiration, even without the ties which bound them together, she was by no means blind to his faults, which she considered as dangerous to the hopes of any woman, who should found her ideas of a happy marriage in the peaceful enjoyment of domestic society, and the exchange of mutual and engrossing affection. The real disposition of Waverley, on the other hand, notwithstanding his dreams of tented fields and military honour, seemed exclusively domestic. He asked and received no share in the busy scenes which were constantly going on around him, and was rather annoyed than interested by the discussion of contending claims, rights, and interests, which often passed in his presence. As this pointed him out as the person formed to make happy a spirit like that of Rose, which corresponded with his own.

She remarked this point in Waverley's character one day while she sat with Miss Bradwardine. “His genius and elegant taste," an

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swered Rose, “cannot be interested in such trifling discussions. What is it to him, for example, whether the Chief of the Macindallaghers, who has brought out only fifty men, should be a colonel or a captain ? and how could Mr Waverley be supposed to interest himself in the violent altercation between your brother and young Corrinaschian, whether the post of honour is due to the eldest cadet of a clan or the youngest ?"

“My dear Rose, if he were the hero you suppose him, he would interest himself in these matters, not indeed as important in themselves, but for the purpose of mediating between the ardent spirits who actually do make them the subject of discord. You saw when Corrinaschian raised his voice in great passion, and laid his hand upon his sword, Waverley lifted his head as if he had just awaked from a dream, and asked, with great composure, what the matter

“Well, and did not the laughter they fell into at his absence of mind, serve better to break off the dispute, than any thing he could have said to them?”

" True, my dear,” answered Flora; "but not quite so creditably for Waverley as if he had brought them to their senses by force of reason."

“Would you have him peace-maker general between all the gunpowder Highlanders in the army? I beg your pardon, Flora, your brother, you know, is out of the question; he has more sense than half of them. But can you think the fierce, hot, furious spirits, of whose brawls we see much and hear more, and who terrify me out of my life every day in the world, are at all to be compared to Waver

“ I do not compare him with those uneducated men, my dear Rose. I only lament, that, with his talents and genius, he does not assume that place in society for which they eminently fit him, and that he does not lend their full impulse to the noble cause in which he has enlisted. Are there not Lochiel, and P and M—, and Gall men of the highest education, as well as the first talents,—why will he not stoop like them to be alive and useful ?-I often believe his zeal is frozen by that proud cold blooded Englishman, whom he now lives with so much.”

“ Colonel Talbot?--he is a very disagreeable person, to be sure. He looks as if he thought no Scottish woman worth the trouble of handing her a cup of tea. But Waverley is so gentle, so well in

“ Yes," said Flora, smiling," he can admire the moon, and quote a stanza from Tasso."

“Besides, you know how he fought,” added Miss Bradwardine. “For mere fighting,” answered Flora, “I believe all men (that is, who deserve the name) are pretty much alike; there is generally more courage required to run away. They have, besides, when confronted with each other, a certain instinct for strife, as we see in other male animals, such as dogs, bulls, and so forth. But high and perilous enterprise is not Waverley's forte. He would never have been his celebrated ancestor, Sir Nigel, but only Sir Nigel's eulogist and

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poet. I will tell you where he will be at home, my dear, and in his place-in the quiet circle of domestic happiness, lettered indolence, and elegant enjoyments of Waverley-Honour. And he will refit the old library in the most exquisite Gothic taste, and garnish its shelves with the rarest and most valuable volumes; and he will draw plans and landscapes, and write verses, and rear temples, and dig grottoes; and he will stand in a clear summer night in the colonnade before the hall, and gaze on the deer as they stray in the moonlight, or lie shadowed by the boughs of the huge old fantastic oaks; and he will repeat verses to his beautiful wife, who will hang upon his arm-and he will be a happy man.”

And she will be a happy woman, thought poor Rose. But she only sighed, and dropped the conversation.

CHAPTER LIII.

Fergus, a Suitor. WAVERLEY had, indeed, as he looked closer into the state of the Chevalier's Court, less reason to be satisfied with it. It contained, as they say an acorn includes all the ramifications of the future oak, as many seeds of tracasserie and intrigue, as might have done honour to the Court of a large empire. Every person of consequence had some separate object, which he pursued with a fury that Waverley considered as altogether disproportioned to its importance. Almost all had their reasons for discontent, although the most legitimate was that of the worthy old Baron, who was only distressed on account of the common cause.

“We shall hardly,” said he one morning to Waverley, when they had been viewing the castle—“ we shall hardly gain the obsidional crown, which you wot well was made of the roots or grain which takes root within the place besieged, or it may be of the herb woodbind, paretaria, or pellitory; we shall not, I say, gain it by this same blockade or leaguer of Edinburgh Castle.”. For this opinion, he gave most learned and satisfactory reasons, that the reader may not care to hear repeated.

Having escaped from the old gentleman, Waverley went to Fergus's lodgings by appointment, to await his return from HolyroodHouse. “I am to have a particular audience to-morrow," said Fergus to Waverley, overnight, and you must meet me to wish me joy of the success which I securely anticipate.'

The morrow came, and in the Chief's apartment he found Ensign Maccombich waiting to make report of his turn of duty in a sort of ditch which they had dug across the Castle-hill, and called a trench. In a short time the Chief's voice was heard on the stair in a tone of impatient fury:-" Callum,—why, Callum Beg,-Diaoul!" He entered the room with all the marks of a man agitated by a towering passion; and there were few upon whose features rage produced a more violent effect. The veins of his forehead swelled when he was

in such agitation; his nostril became dilated, his cheek and eye inflamed, and his look that of a demoniac. These appearances of halfsuppressed rage were the more frightful, because they were obviously caused by a strong effort to temper with discretion an almost ungovernable paroxysm of passion, and resulted from an internal conflict of the most dreadful kind, which agitated his whole frame of mortality.

As he entered the apartment, he unbuckled his broadsword, and throwing it down with such violence, that the weapon rolled to the other end of the room, “I know not what,” he exclaimed, “withholds me from taking a solemn oath that I will never more draw it in his cause. Load my pistols, Callum, and bring them hither instantlyinstantly!” Callum, whom nothing ever startled, dismayed, or disconcerted, obeyed very coolly. Evan Dhu, upon whose brow the suspicion that his Chief had been insulted, called up a corresponding storm, swelled in sullen silence, awaiting to learn where or upon whom vengeance was to descend.

“So, Waverley, you are there," said the Chief, after a moment's recollection; “ Yes, I remember I asked you to share my triumph, and you have come to witness my-disappointment we shall call it. Evan now presented the written report he had in his hand, which Fergus threw from him with great passion. “I wish to God,” he said, “ the old den would tumble

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heads of the fools who · attack, and the knaves who defend it! I see, Waverley, you think I am mad-leave us, Evan, but be within call."

“ The Colonel's'in an unco kippage," said Mrs Flockhart to Evan as he descended; “I wish he may be weel,—the very veins on his brent brow are swelled like whip-cord; wad he no tak something?”

“ He usually lets blood for these fits,” answered the Highland Ancient with great composure.

When this officer left the room, the Chieftain gradually reassumed some degree of composure. “I know, Waverley," he said, " that Colonel Talbot has persuaded you to curse ten times a-day your engagement with us; nay, never deny it, for I am at this moment tempted to curse my own. Would you believe it, I made this very morning two suits to the Prince, and he has rejected them both; what do you think of it?"

“What can I think," answered Waverley, “ till I know what your requests were ?"

Why, what signifies what they were, man? I tell you it was I that made them; I, to whom he owes more than to any three who have joined the standard ; for I negotiated the whole business, anů brought in all the Perthshire men when not one would have stirred. I am not likely, I think, to ask any thing unreasonable, and if I did, they might have stretched a point. Well

, but you shall know all, now that I can draw my breath again with some freedom. You remember my earl's patent; it is dated some years back, for services then rendered; and certainly my merit has not been diminished, to say the least, by my subsequent behaviour. Now, sir, I value this bauble of a coronet as little as you can, or any philosopher on earth; for I hold that the Chief of such a clan as the Sliochd nan Ivor is superior in rank to any earl in Scotland. But I had a particular

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reason for assuming this cursed title at this time. You must know that I learned accidentally that the Prince has been pressing that old foolish Bàron of Bradwardine to disinherit his male heir, or nineteenth or twentieth cousin, who has taken a command in the Elector of Hanover's militia, and to settle his estate upon your pretty little friend Rose; and this, as being the command of his king and overlord, who may alter the destination of a fief at pleasure, the old gentleman seems well reconciled to."

“And what becomes of the homage?"

“Curse the homage!-I believe Rose is to pull off the Queen's slipper on her coronation-day, or some such trash. Well, sir, as Rose Bradwardine would always have made a suitable match for me, but for this idiotical predilection of her father for the heir-male, it occurred to me there now remained no obstacle, unless that the Baron might expect his daughter's husband to take the name of Bradwardine, (which you know would be impossible in my case,) and that this might be evaded by my assuming the title to which I had so good a right, and which, of course, would supersede that difficulty. If she was to be also Viscountess Bradwardine, in her own right, after her father's demise, so much the better; I could have no objection.”

But, Fergus," said Waverley, "I had no idea that you had any affection for Miss Bradwardine, and you are always sneering at her. father.”

“I have as much affection for Miss Bradwardine, my good friend, as I think it necessary to have for the future mistress of my family, and the mother of my children. She is a very pretty intelligent girl

, and is certainly of one of the very first Lowland families; and with a little of Flora's instructions and forming, will make a very good figure. As to her father, he is an original, it is true, and an absurd one enough; but he has given such severe lessons to Sir Hew Halbert, that dear defunct the Laird of Balmawhapple, and others, that nobody dare laugh at him, so his absurdity goes for nothing, I tell you there could have been no earthly objection—none. I had settled the thing entirely in my own mind."

“But had you asked the Baron’s consent,” said Waverley, Rose's ?"

“ To what purpose? To have spoke to the Baron before I had assumed my title, would have only provoked a premature and irritating discussion on the subject of the change of name, when, as Earl of Glennaquoich, I had only to propose to him to carry his d-d bear and boot-jack party per pale, or in a scutcheon of pretence, or in a separate shield perhaps—any way that would not blemish my own coat-of-arms. And as to Rose, I don't see what objection she could have made, if her father was satisfied."

Perhaps the same that your sister makes to me, you being satisfied."

Fergus gave a broad stare at the comparison which this supposition implied, but cautiously suppressed the answer which rose to his tongue. “O, we should easily have arranged all that. So, sir, 1 craved a private interview, and this morning was assigned; and I

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