ir, 'my fate is settled. Dead or
captive I must be before tomorrow.'

'What do you mean by that, my friend?' said Edward. 'The enemy is still a
day's march in our rear, and if he comes up, we are still strong enough
to keep him in check. Remember Gladsmuir.'

'What I tell you is true notwithstanding, so far as I am individually
concerned.'

'Upon what authority can you found so melancholy a prediction?' asked
Waverley.

'On one which never failed a person of my house. I have seen,' he said,
lowering his voice, 'I have seen the Bodach Glas.'

'Bodach Glas?'

'Yes; have you been so long at Glennaquoich, and never heard of the Grey
Spectre? though indeed there is a certain reluctance among us to mention
him.'

'No, never.'

'Ah! it would have been a tale for poor Flora to have told you. Or, if
that hill were Benmore, and that long blue lake, which you see just
winding towards yon mountainous country, were Loch Tay, or my own Loch an
Ri, the tale would be better suited with scenery. However, let us sit
down on this knoll; even Saddleback and Ulswater will suit what I have to
say better than the English hedgerows, enclosures, and farmhouses. You
must know, then, that when my ancestor, Ian nan Chaistel, wasted
Northumberland, there was associated with him in the expedition a sort of
Southland Chief, or captain of a band of Lowlanders, called Halbert Hall.
In their return through the Cheviots they quarrelled about the division
of the great booty they had acquired, and came from words to blows. The
Lowlanders were cut off to a man, and their chief fell the last, covered
with wounds by the sword of my ancestor. Since that time his spirit has
crossed the Vich Ian Vohr of the day when any great disaster was
impending, but especially before approaching death. My father saw him
twice, once before he was made prisoner at Sheriff-Muir, another time on
the morning of the day on which he died.'

'How can you, my dear Fergus, tell such nonsense with a grave face?'

'I do not ask you to believe it; but I tell you the truth, ascertained
by three hundred years' experience at least, and last night by my own
eyes.'

'The particulars, for heaven's sake!' said Waverley, with eagerness.

'I will, on condition you will not attempt a jest on the subject. Since
this unhappy retreat commenced I have scarce ever been able to sleep for
thinking of my clan, and of this poor Prince, whom they are leading back
like a dog in a string, whet