e my target; so, there we are fixed. How
does it look?'

'Like the bra' Highlander tat's painted on the board afore the mickle
change-house they ca' Luckie Middlemass's,' answered Callum; meaning, I
must observe, a high compliment, for in his opinion Luckie Middlemass's
sign was an exquisite specimen of art. Waverley, however, not feeling the
full force of this polite simile, asked him no further questions.

Upon extricating themselves from the mean and dirty suburbs of the
metropolis, and emerging into the open air, Waverley felt a renewal of
both health and spirits, and turned his recollection with firmness upon
the events of the preceding evening, and with hope and resolution towards
those of the approaching day.

When he had surmounted a small craggy eminence called St. Leonard's Hill,
the King's Park, or the hollow between the mountain of Arthur's Seat and
the rising grounds on which the southern part of Edinburgh is now built,
lay beneath him, and displayed a singular and animating prospect. It was
occupied by the army of the Highlanders, now in the act of preparing for
their march. Waverley had already seen something of the kind at the
hunting-match which he attended with Fergus Mac-Ivor; but this was on a
scale of much greater magnitude, and incomparably deeper interest. The
rocks, which formed the background of the scene, and the very sky itself,
rang with the clang of the bagpipers, summoning forth, each with his
appropriate pibroch, his chieftain and clan. The mountaineers, rousing
themselves from their couch under the canopy of heaven with the hum and
bustle of a confused and irregular multitude, like bees alarmed and
arming in their hives, seemed to possess all the pliability of movement
fitted to execute military manoeuvres. Their motions appeared spontaneous
and confused, but the result was order and regularity; so that a general
must have praised the conclusion, though a martinet might have ridiculed
the method by which it was attained.

The sort of complicated medley created by the hasty arrangements of the
various clans under their respective banners, for the purpose of getting
into the order of march, was in itself a gay and lively spectacle. They
had no tents to striket having generally, and by choice, slept upon the
open field, although the autumn was now waning and the nights began to be
frosty. For a little space, while they were getting into order, there was
exhibited a changing, fluctuating,