mended to him to visit the Bailie, who still lived at the
factor's house, called Little Veolan, about a mile from the village,
though he was to remove at next term. Stanley's passport would be an
answer to the officer who commanded the military; and as to any of the
country people who might recognise Waverley, the Baron assured him he was
in no danger of being betrayed by them.

'I believe,' said the old man, 'half the people of the barony know that
their poor auld laird is somewhere hereabout; for I see they do not
suffer a single bairn to come here a bird-nesting; a practice whilk, when
I was in full possession of my power as baron, I was unable totally to
inhibit. Nay, I often find bits of things in my way, that the poor
bodies, God help them! leave there, because they think they may be useful
to me. I hope they will get a wiser master, and as kind a one as I was.'

A natural sigh closed the sentence; but the quiet equanimity with which
the Baron endured his misfortunes had something in it venerable and even
sublime. There was no fruitless repining, no turbid melancholy; he bore
his lot, and the hardships which it involved, with a good-humored, though
serious composure, and used no violent language against the prevailing
party.

'I did what I thought my duty,' said the good old man, 'and questionless
they are doing what they think theirs. It grieves me sometimes to look
upon these blackened walls of the house of my ancestors; but doubtless
officers cannot always keep the soldier's hand from depredation and
spuilzie, and Gustavus Adolphus himself, as ye may read in Colonel Munro
his "Expedition with the Worthy Scotch Regiment called Mackay's Regiment"
did often permit it. Indeed I have myself seen as sad sights as
Tully-Veolan now is when I served with the Marechal Duke of Berwick. To
be sure we may say with Virgilius Maro, Fuimus Troes--and there's the end
of an auld sang. But houses and families and men have a' stood lang
eneugh when they have stood till they fall with honour; and now I hae
gotten a house that is not unlike a domus ultima'--they were now standing
below a steep rock. 'We poor Jacobites,' continued the Baron, looking up,
'are now like the conies in Holy Scripture (which the great traveller
Pococke calleth Jerboa), a feeble people, that make our abode in the
rocks. So, fare you well, my good lad, till we meet at Janet's in the
even; for I must get into my Patmos, which is no easy matter for my auld
s