lf. He
therefore ran briefly over most of the events with which the reader is
already acquainted, suppressing his attachment to Flora, and indeed
neither mentioning her nor Rose Bradwardine in the course of his
narrative.

Mr. Morton seemed particularly struck with the account of Waverley's
visit to Donald Bean Lean. 'I am glad,' he said, 'you did not mention
this circumstance to the Major. It is capable of great misconstruction on
the part of those who do not consider the power of curiosity and the
influence of romance as motives of youthful conduct. When I was a young
man like you, Mr. Waverley, any such hair-brained expedition (I beg your
pardon for the expression) would have had inexpressible charms for me.
But there are men in the world who will not believe that danger and
fatigue are often incurred without any very adequate cause, and therefore
who are sometimes led to assign motives of action entirely foreign to the
truth. This man Bean Lean is renowned through the country as a sort of
Robin Hood, and the stories which are told of his address and enterprise
are the common tales of the winter fireside. He certainly possesses
talents beyond the rude sphere in which he moves; and, being neither
destitute of ambition nor encumbered with scruples, he will probably
attempt, by every means, to distinguish himself during the period of
these unhappy commotions.' Mr. Morton then made a careful memorandum of
the various particulars of Waverley's interview with Donald Bean Lean and
the other circumstances which he had communicated.

The interest which this good man seemed to take in his misfortunes, above
all, the full confidence he appeared to repose in his innocence, had the
natural effect of softening Edward's heart, whom the coldness of Major
Melville had taught to believe that the world was leagued to oppress him.
He shook Mr. Morton warmly by the hand, and, assuring him that his
kindness and sympathy had relieved his mind of a heavy load, told him
that, whatever might be his own fate, he belonged to a family who had
both gratitude and the power of displaying it. The earnestness of his
thanks called drops to the eyes of the worthy clergyman, who was doubly
interested in the cause for which he had volunteered his services, by
observing the genuine and undissembled feelings of his young friend.

Edward now inquired if Mr. Morton knew what was likely to be his
destination.

'Stirling Castle,' replied his friend; 'and s