ssarily arose from
the feelings, prejudices, and parties of the times. I do not invite my
fair readers, whose sex and impatience give them the greatest right to
complain of these circumstances, into a flying chariot drawn by
hippogriffs, or moved by enchantment. Mine is a humble English
post-chaise, drawn upon four wheels, and keeping his Majesty's highway.
Such as dislike the vehicle may leave it at the next halt, and wait for
the conveyance of Prince Hussein's tapestry, or Malek the Weaver's flying
sentrybox. Those who are contented to remain with me will be occasionally
exposed to the dulness inseparable from heavy roads, steep hills,
sloughs, and other terrestrial retardations; but with tolerable horses
and a civil driver (as the advertisements have it), I engage to get as
soon as possible into a more picturesque and romantic country, if my
passengers incline to have some patience with me during my first stages.
[Footnote: These Introductory Chapters have been a good deal censured as
tedious and unnecessary. Yet there are circumstances recorded in them
which the author has not been able to persuade himself to retrench or
cancel.]

CHAPTER IV

THE ADIEUS OF WAVERLEY

It was upon the evening of this memorable Sunday that Sir Everard entered
the library, where he narrowly missed surprising our young hero as he
went through the guards of the broadsword with the ancient weapon of old
Sir Hildebrand, which, being preserved as an heirloom, usually hung over
the chimney in the library, beneath a picture of the knight and his
horse, where the features were almost entirely hidden by the knight's
profusion of curled hair, and the Bucephalus which he bestrode concealed
by the voluminous robes of the Bath with which he was decorated. Sir
Everard entered, and after a glance at the picture and another at his
nephew, began a little speech, which, however, soon dropt into the
natural simplicity of his common manner, agitated upon the present
occasion by no common feeling. 'Nephew,' he said; and then, as mending
his phrase, 'My dear Edward, it is God's will, and also the will of your
father, whom, under God, it is your duty to obey, that you should leave
us to take up the profession of arms, in which so many of your ancestors
have been distinguished. I have made such arrangements as will enable you
to take the field as their descendant, and as the probable heir of the
house of Waverley; and, sir, in the field of battle you