Tay, or my own Loch an Ri, the tale would be better suited with scenery. However, let us sit down on this knoll: even Saddleback and Ulswater will suit what I have to say better than the English hedgerows, enclosures, and farm-houses. You must know, then, that when my ancestor, Ian nan Chaistel, wasted Northumberland, there was associated with him in the expedition a sort of Southland chief, or captain of a band of Lowlanders, called Halbert Hall. In their return through the Cheviots, they quarrelled about the division of the great booty they had acquired, and came from words to blows. The Lowlanders were cut off to a man, and their chief fell the last, covered with wounds, by the sword of my ancestor. Since that time, his spirit has crossed the Vich Ian Vohr of the day when any great disaster was impending, but especially before approaching death. My father saw him twice, once before he was made prisoner at Sheriff-Muir; another time on the morning of the day on which he died." - "How can you, my dear Fergus, tell such nonsense with a grave face?" "I do not ask you to believe it; but I tell you the truth, ascertained by three hundred years' experience at least, and last night by my own eyes." "The particulars, for Heaven's sake!" said Waverley, with eagerness. "I will, on condition you will not attempt a jest on the subject. Since this unhappy retreat commenced, I have scarce ever been able to sleep for thinking of my clan, and of this poor prince, whom they are leading back like a dog in a string, whether he will or no, and of the downfall of my family. Last night I felt so feverish that I left my quarters |