ion
of perplexity it was likely to plunge him. Sunrise had seen him possessed
of an esteemed rank in the honourable profession of arms, his father to
all appearance rapidly rising in the favour of his sovereign. All this
had passed away like a dream: he himself was dishonoured, his father
disgraced, and he had become involuntarily the confidant at least, if not
the accomplice, of plans, dark, deep, and dangerous, which must infer
either the subversion of the government he had so lately served or the
destruction of all who had participated in them. Should Flora even listen
to his suit favourably, what prospect was there of its being brought to a
happy termination amid the tumult of an impending insurrection? Or how
could he make the selfish request that she should leave Fergus, to whom
she was so much attached, and, retiring with him to England, wait, as a
distant spectator, the success of her brother's undertaking, or the ruin
of all his hopes and fortunes? Or, on the other hand, to engage himself,
with no other aid than his single arm, in the dangerous and precipitate
counsels of the Chieftain, to be whirled along by him, the partaker of
all his desperate and impetuous motions, renouncing almost the power of
judging, or deciding upon the rectitude or prudence of his actions, this
was no pleasing prospect for the secret pride of Waverley to stoop to.
And yet what other conclusion remained, saving the rejection of his
addresses by Flora, an alternative not to be thought of in the present
high-wrought state of his feelings with anything short of mental agony.
Pondering the doubtful and dangerous prospect before him, he at length
arrived near the cascade, where, as Fergus had augured, he found Flora
seated.

She was quite alone, and as soon as she observed his approach she rose
and came to meet him. Edward attempted to say something within the verge
of ordinary compliment and conversation, but found himself unequal to the
task. Flora seemed at first equally embarrassed, but recovered herself
more speedily, and (an unfavourable augury for Waverley's suit) was the
first to enter upon the subject of their last interview. 'It is too
important, in every point of view, Mr. Waverley, to permit me to leave
you in doubt on my sentiments.'

'Do not speak them speedily,' said Waverley, much agitated, 'unless they
are such as I fear, from your manner, I must not dare to anticipate. Let
time--let my future conduct--let your brother's