ipes and the high applause of his
guests. Having gained the open air by a postern door, they walked a
little way up the wild, bleak, and narrow valley in which the house was
situated, following the course of the stream that winded through it. In a
spot, about a quarter of a mile from the castle, two brooks, which formed
the little river, had their junction. The larger of the two came down the
long bare valley, which extended, apparently without any change or
elevation of character, as far as the hills which formed its boundary
permitted the eye to reach. But the other stream, which had its source
among the mountains on the left hand of the strath, seemed to issue from
a very narrow and dark opening betwixt two large rocks. These streams
were different also in character. The larger was placid, and even sullen
in its course, wheeling in deep eddies, or sleeping in dark blue pools;
but the motions of the lesser brook were rapid and furious, issuing from
between precipices, like a maniac from his confinement, all foam and
uproar.

It was up the course of this last stream that Waverley, like a knight of
romance, was conducted by the fair Highland damsel, his silent guide. A
small path, which had been rendered easy in many places for Flora's
accommodation, led him through scenery of a very different description
from that which he had just quitted. Around the castle all was cold,
bare, and desolate, yet tame even in desolation; but this narrow glen, at
so short a distance, seemed to open into the land of romance. The rocks
assumed a thousand peculiar and varied forms. In one place a crag of huge
size presented its gigantic bulk, as if to forbid the passenger's farther
progress; and it was not until he approached its very base that Waverley
discerned the sudden and acute turn by which the pathway wheeled its
course around this formidable obstacle. In another spot the projecting
rocks from the opposite sides of the chasm had approached so near to each
other that two pine-trees laid across, and covered with turf, formed a
rustic bridge at the height of at least one hundred and fifty feet. It
had no ledges, and was barely three feet in breadth.

While gazing at this pass of peril, which crossed, like a single black
line, the small portion of blue sky not intercepted by the projecting
rocks on either side, it was with a sensation of horror that Waverley
beheld Flora and her attendant appear, like inhabitants of another
region, pro