RE.'

'And wha the deil doubts it,' quoth the Baron, laughing, 'when ye bring
only the cookery, and the gude toun must furnish the materials?--'Weel,
I have some business in the toun too: But I'll join you at three, if the
vivers can tarry so long.'

So saying, he took leave of his friends, and went to look after the
charge which had been assigned him.

CHAPTER XLII

A SOLDIER'S DINNER

James of the Needle was a man of his word, when whisky was no party
to the contract; and upon this occasion Callum Beg, who still thought
himself in Waverley's debt, since he had declined accepting compensation
at the expense of mine Host of the Candlestick's person, took the
opportunity of discharging the obligation, by mounting guard over the
hereditary tailor of Sliochd nan Ivor; and, as he expressed himself,
'targed him tightly' till the finishing of the job. To rid himself of
this restraint, Shemus's needle flew through the tartan like lightning;
and as the artist kept chanting some dreadful skirmish of Fin Macoul,
he accomplished at least three stitches to the death of every hero. The
dress was, therefore, soon ready, for the short coat fitted the wearer,
and the rest of the apparel required little adjustment.

Our hero having now fairly assumed the 'garb of old Gaul,' well
calculated its it was to give an appearance of strength to a figure,
which, though tall and well-made, was rather elegant than robust, I hope
my fair readers will excuse him if he looked at himself in the mirror
more than once, and could not help acknowledging that the reflection
seemed that of a very handsome young fellow. In fact, there was
no disguising it. His light-brown hair--for he wore no periwig,
notwithstanding the universal fashion of the time--became the bonnet
which surmounted it. His person promised firmness and agility, to which
the ample folds of the tartan added an air of dignity. His blue eye
seemed of that kind,

Which melted in love, and which kindled in war;

and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want of
habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his features,
without injuring their grace or intelligence.

'He's a pratty man--a very pratty man,' said Evan Dhu (now Ensign
Maccombich) to Fergus's buxom landlady.

'He's vera weel,' said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething sae
weel-far'd as your colonel, ensign.'

'I wasna comparing them,' quoth Evan, 'nor was I speaking about his
bein