ntry ten
miles round. It must not be forgotten, that all sorts of bears, small and
large, demi or in full proportion, were carved over the windows, upon the
ends of the gables, terminated the spouts, and supported the turrets,
with the ancient family motto, 'Beware the Bear', cut under each
hyperborean form. The court was spacious, well paved, and perfectly
clean, there being probably another entrance behind the stables for
removing the litter. Everything around appeared solitary, and would have
been silent, but for the continued plashing of the fountain; and the
whole scene still maintained the monastic illusion which the fancy of
Waverley had conjured up. And here we beg permission to close a chapter
of still life. [Footnote: See Note 7.]

CHAPTER IX

MORE OF THE MANOR-HOUSE AND ITS ENVIRONS

After having satisfied his curiosity by gazing around him for a few
minutes, Waverley applied himself to the massive knocker of the
hall-door, the architrave of which bore the date 1594. But no answer was
returned, though the peal resounded through a number of apartments, and
was echoed from the court-yard walls without the house, startling the
pigeons from the venerable rotunda which they occupied, and alarming anew
even the distant village curs, which had retired to sleep upon their
respective dunghills. Tired of the din which he created, and the
unprofitable responses which it excited, Waverley began to think that he
had reached the castle of Orgoglio as entered by the victorious Prince
Arthur,--

When 'gan he loudly through the house to call,
But no man cared to answer to his cry;
There reign'd a solemn silence over all,
Nor voice was heard, nor wight was seen in bower or hall.

Filled almost with expectation of beholding some 'old, old man, with
beard as white as snow,' whom he might question concerning this deserted
mansion, our hero turned to a little oaken wicket-door, well clenched
with iron-nails, which opened in the court-yard wall at its angle with
the house. It was only latched, notwithstanding its fortified appearance,
and, when opened, admitted him into the garden, which presented a
pleasant scene. [Footnote: Footnote: At Ravelston may be seen such a
garden, which the taste of the proprietor, the author's friend and
kinsman, Sir Alexander Keith, Knight Mareschal, has judiciously
preserved. That, as well as the house is, however, of smaller dimensions
than the Baron of Bradwardine's mansion and garden