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arms.

the mode which the church of Rome prescribes. In about an hour he was readmitted. Soon after, a file of soldiers entered with a blacksmith, who struck the fetters from the legs of the prisoners. the compliment they pay to our Highland strength and courage; we have lain chained here like wild beasts, till our legs are cramped into palsy; and when they free us, they send six soldiers with loaded muskets to prevent our taking the castle by storm.Shortly after the drums of the garrison beat to

i This is the last turn out,” said Fergus, " that I shall hear and obey. And now,

my dear, dear Edward, ere we part let us speak of Flora,-a subject which awakes the tenderest feeling that yet thrills within me.”—“We part not here?said Waverly. “O yes, we do, you must come no farther. Not that I fear what is to follow for myself,” he said proudly; "nature has her tortures as well as art, and how happy should we think the man who escapes from the throes of a mortal and painful disorder in the space

of a short half hour! And this matter, spin it out as they will, cannot last longer. But what a dying man can suffer firmly, may kill a living friend

“This same law of high treason,” he continued, with astonishing firmness and composure, “is one of the blessings, Edward, with which your free country has accommodated poor

old Scotland: her own jurisprudence, as I have heard, was much milder. But I suppose, one day or other, when there are no longer any wild Highlanders to benefit by its tender mercies, they will blot it from their records, as levelling them with a nation of cannibals. The mummery, too, of exposing the senseless head! they have not the wit to grace mine with a paper coronet; there would be some satire in that, Edward. I hope they will set it on the Scotch gate though, that I may look, even atter death, to the blue hills of my own country, that I love so dearly!”

A bustle, and the sound of wheels and horses' feet, was now heard in the court-yard of the castle.

to look upon.

An officer appeared, and intimated that the high sheriff and his attendants waited before the gate of the castle, to claim the bodies of Fergus Mac-Ivor and Evan Maccombich: "I come,” said Fergus. Accordingly, supporting Edward by the arm, and followed by Evan Dhu and the priest, he moved down the stairs of the tower, the soldiers bringing up the rear. The court was occupied by a squadron of dragoons and a battalion of infantry, drawn up in a hollow square.

Within their ranks was the sledge or hurdle, on which the prisoners were to be drawn to the place of execution, about' a mile distant from Carlisle. · It was painted black, and drawn by a white horse. At one end of the vehicle sat the executioner, a horrid looking fellow, as beseemed his trade, with the broad axe in his hand; at the other end, next the horse, was an empty seat for two persons. Through the deep and dark Gothic archway that opened on the drawbridge, were seen on horseback the high sheriff and his attendants, whom the etiquette betwixt the civil and military power did not permit to come farther.

“ This is well got up for a closing scene, Fergus, smiling disdainfully as he gazed around upon the apparatus of terrour. Evan Dhu exclaimed with some eagerness, after looking at the dragoons, “These are the very chields that gallopped off at Gladsmuir ere we could kill a dozen of them. They look bold enough now, however.” The priest entreated him to be silent.

The sledge now approached, and Fergus turning round embraced Waverly, kissed him on each side of the face, and stepped nimbly into his place.' Evan sat down by his side. The priest was to follow in a carriage belonging to his patron, the Catholick gentleman at whose house Flora resided. As Fergus waved his hand to Edward, the ranks closed around the sledge, and the whole procession began to move forward.

There was a momentary stop at the gateway, while the governour of the castle and the high sheriff went

" said

through a short ceremony, the military officer there delivering over the persons of the criminals to the civil power.

“God save King George!” said the high sheriff. When the formality concluded, Fergus stood erect in the sledge, and with a firm and steady voice, replied, “God save King James_!These were the last words which Waverly heard him speak.

The procession resumed its march, and the sledge vanished from beneath the portal, under which it had stopped for an instant. The dead march, as it is called, was instantly heard ; and its melancholy sounds were mingled with those of a muffled peal, tolled from the neighbouring cathedral. The sound of the military music died away as the procession moved on; the sullen clang of the bells was soon heard to sound alone.

The last of the soldiers had now disappeared from under the vaulted archway through which they had been filing for several minutes; the court-yard was now totally empty, but Waverly still stood there as if stupified, his eyes fixed upon the dark pass where he had so lately seen the last glimpse of his friend.At length, a female servant of the governour, struck with surprise and compassion at the stupified misery which his countenance expressed, asked him if he would not walk into her master's house and sit down? She was obliged to repeat her question twice ere he comprehended her; but at length it recalled him to himself. Declining the courtesy, by a hasty gesture, he pulled his hat over his eyes, and, leaving the castle, walked as swiftly as he could through the empty streets, till he regained his inn; then threw himself into an apartment and bolted the door.

In about an hour and a half, which seemed an age of unutterable suspense, the sound of the drums and fifes, performing a lively air, and the confused murmur of the crowd which now filled the streets, so lately deserted, apprised him that all was over, and that the military and populace were returning from the dreadful scene. I will not attempt to describe his sensations.

C

DEATH OF A SPY.

ROB ROY.* i I shall never forget the delightful sensation with which I exchanged the dark, smoky, smothering atmosphere of the Highland hut, in which we had passed the night so uncomfortably, for the refreshing fragrance of the morning air, and the glorious beams of the rising sun, which, from a tabernacle of purple and golden clouds, were darted full on such a scene of natural romance and beauty as had never before greeted my eyes. To the left lay the valley, down which the Forth wandered on its easterly course, surrounding the beautiful detached hill, with all its garland of woods. On the right, amid a profusion of thickets, knolls, and crags, lay the bed of a broad mountain lake, lightly curling into tiny waves by the breath of the morning breeze, each glittering in its course under the influence of the sunbeams. High hills, rocks and banks, waving with natural forests of birch and oak, formed the borders of this enchanting sheet of water; and, as their leaves rustled to the wind and twinkled in the sun, gave to the depth of solitude a sort of life and vivacity. Man alone seemed to be placed in a state of inferiority, in a scene where all the ordinary features of nature were raised and exalted.

It was under the burning influence of revenge that the wife of MacGregor commanded that the hostage, exchanged for her husband's safety, should be brought into her presence. I believe her sons had kept this unfortunate wretch out of her sight, for fear of the consequences; but if it was so, their humane precaution only postponed his fate. They dragged forward, at her summons, a wretch, already half dead with terrour, in whose agonized features, I recognised, to my horrour and astonishment, my old acquaintance Morris,

• At the time the celebrated Highland Chieftain, Rob Roy, was taken prisoner, Morris had been sept as a hostage for his personal safety, which being violated, excited the wrath so powerfully den scribed in this extract.

He fell prostrate before the female chief with an effort to clasp her knees, from which she drew back, as if his touch had been pollution, so that all he could do in token of the extremity of his humiliation, was to kiss the hem of her plaid. I never heard entreaties for life poured forth with such agony of spirit. The ecstasy of fear was such, that instead of paralyzing his tongue, as on ordinary occasions, it even rendered him eloquent, and, with cheeks as pale as ashes, hands compressed in agony, eyes that seemed to be taking their last look of all mortal objects, he protested, with the deepest oaths, his total ignorance of any design on the life of Rob Roy, whom he swore he loved and honoured as his own soul.-In the inconsistency of his terrour, he said he was but the agent of others, and "he muttered the name of Rashleigh.--He prayed but for life—for life he would give all he had in the world;—it was but life he asked-life, if it were to be prolonged under tortures and privations;-he asked only breath, though it should be drawn in the damps of the lowest caverns of their hills.

It is impossible to describe the scorn, the loathing, and contempt, with which the wife of MacGregor regarded this wretched petitioner for the poor boon of existence.

"I could have bid you live,” she said, “ had life been to you the same weary and wasting burden that it is to me—that it is to every noble and generous mind.—But you—wretch! you could creep through the world unaffected by its various disgraces, its ineffable miseries, its constantly accumulating masses of crime and sorrow,—you could live and enjoy yourself, while the noble-minded are betrayed, while nameless and birthless villains tread on the neck of the brave and long-descended, you could enjoy yourself, like a butcher's dog in the shambles, battening on garbage, while the slaughter of the brave went on around you! This enjoyment you shall not live to partake of; you shall die, base dog, and that before yon cloud has passed over the

sua."

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