lry now occupied it, and
consequently were between him and the Highlanders. Precluded, therefore,
from advancing in a straight direction, he resolved to avoid the English
military and endeavour to join his friends by making a circuit to the
left, for which a beaten path, deviating from the main road in that
direction, seemed to afford facilities. The path was muddy and the night
dark and cold; but even these inconveniences were hardly felt amidst the
apprehensions which falling into the hands of the King's forces
reasonably excited in his bosom.

After walking about three miles, he at length reached a hamlet. Conscious
that the common people were in general unfavourable to the cause he had
espoused, yet desirous, if possible, to procure a horse and guide to
Penrith, where he hoped to find the rear, if not the main body, of the
Chevalier's army, he approached the alehouse of the place. There was a
great noise within; he paused to listen. A round English oath or two, and
the burden of a campaign song, convinced him the hamlet also was occupied
by the Duke of Cumberland's soldiers. Endeavouring to retire from it as
softly as possible, and blessing the obscurity which hitherto he had
murmured against, Waverley groped his way the best he could along a small
paling, which seemed the boundary of some cottage garden. As he reached
the gate of this little enclosure, his outstretched hand was grasped by
that of a female, whose voice at the same time uttered, 'Edward, is't
thou, man?'

'Here is some unlucky mistake,' thought Edward, struggling, but gently,
to disengage himself.

'Naen o' thy foun, now, man, or the red cwoats will hear thee; they hae
been houlerying and poulerying every ane that past alehouse door this
noight to make them drive their waggons and sick loike. Come into
feyther's, or they'll do ho a mischief.'

'A good hint,' thought Waverley, following the girl through the little
garden into a brick-paved kitchen, where she set herself to kindle a
match at an expiring fire, and with the match to light a candle. She had
no sooner looked on Edward than she dropped the light, with a shrill
scream of 'O feyther, feyther!'

The father, thus invoked, speedily appeared--a sturdy old farmer, in a
pair of leather breeches, and boots pulled on without stockings, having
just started from his bed; the rest of his dress was only a Westmoreland
statesman's robe-de-chambre--that is, his shirt. His figure was displayed
to adva