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 shall 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 VI.

Fergus, a Suitor.

WAVERLEY had, indeed, as he looked closer upon 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 tracassarie and intrigue as might have done honour to the court of a large empire. Every person of importance had some separate object, which he pursued with a fury that Waverley considered as altogether disproportioned to its importance. Almost all had their causes of discontent, although the most legitimate was that of the worthy old Baron, who was only distressed on account of the common

"We will hardly," said he one morning to Waverley when they had been viewing the castle, "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 will 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 Holyrood-House. "I am to have a parti cular 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 appear`ances of half-suppressed 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 broad-sword, 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 instantly;-instantly!" 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 "I wish to God," he with great passion. said, "the old den would tumble down upon the 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."