and violent profits against them, what better are ye?—they ha na a plack to pay ye; ye need never extract it."

With such discourse, and the intervening topics of business, the time passed until dinner, Macwheeble meanwhile promis ing to devise some mode of introducing Edward at the Duch ran, where Rose at present resided, without risk of danger or suspicion; which seemed no very easy task, since the laird was a very zealous friend to Government.-The poultry-yard had been laid under requisition and cockyleeky and Scotch collops soon reeked in the Bailie's little parlor. The landlord's corkscrew was just introduced into the muzzle of a pint-bottle of claret (cribbed possibly from the cellars of Tully-Veolan), when the sight of the gray pony, passing the window at full trot, induced the Bailie, but with due precaution, to place it aside for the moment. Enter Jock Scriever with a packet for Mr. Stanley: it is Colonel Talbot's seal; and Edward's fingers tremble as he undoes it. Two official papers, folded, signed, and sealed in all formality, drop out. They were hastily picked up by the Bailie, who had a natural respect for everything resembling a deed, and, glancing slyly on their titles, his eyes, or rather spectacles, are greeted with "Protection by his Royal High ness to the person of Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, Esq., of that ilk, commonly called Baron of Bradwardine, forfeited for his accession to the late rebellion." The others proved to be a protection of the same tenor in favor of Edward Waverley, Esq. Colonel Talbot's letter was in these words :

"MY DEAR EDWARD,

"I am just arrived here, and yet I have finshed my business; it has cost me some trouble though, as you shall hear. I waited upon his Royal Highness immediately on my arrival, and found him in no very good humor for my purpose. Three or four Scotch gentlemen were just leaving his levee. After he had expressed himself to me very courteously; 'Would you think it,' he said, 'Talbot? here have been half-a-dozen of the most respectable gentleman, and best friends to Government north of the Forth, Major Melville of Cairnvreckan, Rubrick of Duchran, and others,-who have fairly wrung from me, by their downright importunity, a present protection and the promise of a future pardon, for that stubborn old rebel whom they call Baron of Bradwardine. They allege that his high personal character, and the clemency which he showed to such of our people as fell into the rebel's hands, should weigh in his favor; especially as the loss of his estate is likely to be a severe enough punishment. Rubrick has undertaken to keep

him at his own house till things are settied in the country; but it's a little hard to be forced in a manner to pardon such a mortal enemy to the House of Brunswick.' This was no favorable moment for opening my business; - however, I said I was rejoiced to learn that his Royal Highness was in the course of granting such requests, as it emboldened me to present one of the like nature in my own name. He was very angry, but I persisted-I mentioned the uniform support of our three votes in the house, touched modestly on services abroad, though valuable only in his Royal Highness's having been pleased kindly to accept them, and founded pretty strongly on his own expressions of friendship and good-will. He was embarrassed, but obstinate. I hinted the policy of detaching, on all future occasions, the heir of such a fortune as your uncle's from the machinations of the disaffected. But I made no impression. I mentioned the obligations which I lay under to Sir Everard, and to you personally, and claimed, as the sole reward of my services, that he would be pleased to afford me the means of evincing my gratitude. I perceived that he still meditated a refusal, and taking my commission from my pocket, I said (as a last resource), that as his Royal Highness did not, under these pressing circumstances, think me worthy of a favor which he had not scrupled to grant to other gentlemen, whose services I could hardly judge more important than my own, I must beg leave to deposit, with all humility, my commission in his Royal Highness's hands, and to retire from the service. He was not prepared for this;--he told me to take up my commission; said some handsome things of my services, and granted my request. You are therefore once more a freeman, and I have promised for you that you will be a good boy in future, and remember what you owe to the lenity of Government. Thus you see my prince can be as generous as yours. I do not pretend, indeed, that he confers a favor with all the foreign graces and compliments of your Chevalier errant; but he has a plain English manner, and the evident reluctance with which he grants your request, indicates the sacrifice which he makes of his own inclination to your wishes. My friend, the adjutant-general, has procured me a duplicate of the Baron's protection (the original being in Major Melville's possession), which I send to you, as I know that if you can find him you will have pleasure in being the first to communicate the joyful intelligence. He will of course repair to the Duchran without loss of time, there to ride quarantine for a few weeks. As for you, I give you leave to escort him thither, and to stay a week there, as

I understand a certain fair lady is in that quarter. And I have the pleasure to tell you, that whatever progress you can make in her good graces will be highly agreeable to Sir Everard and Mrs. Rachel, who will never believe your views and prospects settled, and the three ermines passant in actual safety, until you present them with a Mrs. Edward Waverley. Now, certain love-affairs of my own-a good many years since-interrupted some measures which were then proposed in favor of the three ermines passant; so I am bound in honor to make them amends. Therefore make good use of your time, for when

your week is expired, it will be necessary that you go to London

to plead your pardon in the law courts.

Ever, dear Waverley, yours most truly,

"PHILIP TALBOT.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVENTH.

Happy's the wooing

That's not long a doing.

WHEN the first rapturous sensation occasioned by these excellent tidings had somewhat subsided, Edward proposed instantly to go down to the glen to acquaint the Baron with their import. But the cautious Bailie justly observed, that if the Baron were to appear instantly in public, the tenantry and villagers might become riotous in expressing their joy, and give offence to "the powers that be, a sort of persons for whom the Bailie always had unlimited respect. He therefore proposed that Mr. Waverley should go to Janet Gellatley's and bring the Baron up under cloud of night to Little Veolan, where he might once more enjoy the luxury of a good bed. In the meanwhile, he said, he himself would go to Captain Foster, and show him the Baron's protection, and obtain his countenance for harboring him that night,-and he would have horses ready on the morrow to set him on his way to the Duchran along with Mr. Stanley, "whilk denomination, I apprehend, your honor will for the present retain," said the Bailie.

"Certainly, Mr. Macwheeble; but will you not go down to the glen yourself in the evening to meet your patron?"

"That I wad wi' a' my heart; and mickle obliged to your honor for putting me in mind o' my bounden duty. But it will be past sunset afore I get back frae the Captain's and at

these unsonsy hours the glen has a bad name-there's something no that canny about auld Janet Gellatley. The Laird he'll no believe thae things, but he was aye ower rash and venturesome-and feared neither man nor deevil-and sae's seen c't. But right sure am I Sir George Mackenyie says, that no divine can doubt there are witches, since the Bible says thou shalt not suffer them to live; and that no lawyer in Scotland can doubt it, since it is punishable with death by our law. So there's baith law and gospel for it. An his honor winna believe the Leviticus, he might aye believe the Statute-book; but tak his ain way o't-it's a' ane to Duncan Macwheeble. However, I shall send to ask up auld Janet this e'en; it's best no to lightly them that have that character-and we'll want Davie to turn the spit, for, I'll gar Eppie put down a fat goose to the fire for your honors to your supper."

he

may

When it was near sunset, Waverley hastened to the hut ; and he could not but allow that superstition had chosen no improper locality, or unfit object, for the foundation of her fantastic terrors. It resembled exactly the description of Spenser:

There, in a gloomy hollow glen, she found
A little cottage built of sticks and reeds,
In homely wise, and wall'd with sods around,
In which a witch did dwell in loathly weeds,
And wilful want, all careless of her needs;
So choosing solitary to abide

Far from all neighbors, that her devilish deeds,

And hellish arts, from people she might hide,
And hurt far off, unknown, whomsoever she espied.

He entered the cottage with these verses in his memory. Poor old Janet, bent double with age, and bleared with peatsmoke, was tottering about the hut with a birch broom, muttering to herself as she endeavored to make her hearth and floor a little clean for the reception of her expected guests. Waverley's step made her start, look up, and fall a-trembling, so much had her nerves been on the rack for her patron's safety. With difficulty Waverley made her comprehend that the Baron was now safe from personal danger; and when her mind had admitted that joyful news, it was equally hard to make her believe that he was not to enter again upon possession of his estate. "It behoved to be," she said, "he wad get it back again; naebody wad be sae gripple as to tak his gear after they had gi'en him a pardon; and for that Inch-Grabbit, I Could whiles wish mysell a witch for his sake, if I werena feared the Enemy wad tak me at my word." Waverley then gave her some money, and promised that her fidelity should

be rewarded. "How can I be rewarded, sir, sae weel, as just to see my auld maister and Miss Rose come back and bruik their ain?"

Waverley now took leave of Janet, and soon stood beneath the Baron's Patmos. At a low whistle, he observed the veteran peeping out to reconnoitre, like an old badger with his head out of his hole. "Ye hae come rather early, my good lad," said he descending; "I question if the red-coats hae beat the tattoo yet, and we're not safe till then."

"Good news cannot be told too soon," said Waverley; and with infinite joy communicated to him the happy tidings.

The old man stood for a moment in silent devotion, then exclaimed, "Praise be to God!-I shall see my bairn again." "And never, I hope, to part with her more," said Waver ley.

"I trust in God, not, unless it be to win the means of sup porting her; for my things are but in a bruckle state;--but what signifies warld's gear?"

"And if," said Waverley, modestly, "there were a situa tion in life which would put Miss Bradwardine beyond the uncertainty of fortune, and in the rank to which she was born, would you object to it, my dear Baron, because it would make one of your friends the happiest man in the world?" The Baron turned, and looked at him with great earnestness. "Yes," continued Edward, "I shall not consider my sentence of banishment as repealed, unless you will give me permission to accompany you to the Duchran, and"——

The Baron seemed collecting all his dignity to make a suitable reply to what, at another time, he would have treated as the propounding a treaty of alliance between the house of Bradwardine and Waverley. But his efforts were in vain; the father was too mighty for the Baron; the pride of birth and rank were swept away in the joyful surprise, a slight convul sion passed rapidly over his features, as he gave way to the feelings of nature, threw his arms around Waverley's neck, and sobbed out,-" My son! my son !-if I had been to search the world, I would have made my choice here.' Edward returned the embrace with great sympathy of feeling, and for a little while they both kept silence. At length it was broken by Edward. "But Miss Bradwardine?"

"She had never a will but her old father's; besides, you are a likely youth, of honest principles, and high birth; no. she never had any other will than mine, and in my proudest days I could not have wished a mair eligible espousal for het than the nephew of my excellent old friend, Sir Everard.-But