exclaimed Waverley.

'No,--it is a grief entirely my own. I am ashamed you should have seen
it disarm me so much; but it must have its course at times, that it may
be at others more decently supported. I would have kept it secret from
you; for I think it will grieve you, and yet you can administer no
consolation. But you have surprised me,--I see you are surprised
yourself,--and I hate mystery. Read that letter.

The letter was from Colonel Talbot's sister, and in these words:

'I received yours, my dearest brother, by Hodges. Sir E. W. and Mr. R.
are still at large, but are not permitted to leave London. I wish to
Heaven I could give you as good an account of matters in the square.
But the news of the unhappy affair at Preston came upon us, with the
dreadful addition that you were among the fallen. You know Lady Emily's
state of health, when your friendship for Sir E. induced you to leave
her. She was much harassed with the sad accounts from Scotland of the
rebellion having broken out; but kept up her spirits as, she said, it
became your wife, and for the sake of the future heir, so long hoped
for in vain. Alas, my dear brother, these hopes are now ended!
Notwithstanding all my watchful care, this unhappy rumour reached her
without preparation. She was taken ill immediately; and the poor infant
scarce survived its birth. Would to God this were all! But although
the contradiction of the horrible report by your own letter has greatly
revived her spirits, yet Dr--apprehends, I grieve to say, serious,
and even dangerous, consequences to her health, especially from
the uncertainty in which she must necessarily remain for some time,
aggravated by the ideas she has formed of the ferocity of those with
whom you are a prisoner.

Do therefore, my dear brother, as soon as this reaches you, endeavour to
gain your release, by parole, by ransom, or any way that is practicable.
I do not exaggerate Lady Emily's state of health; but I must not--dare
not--suppress the truth.--Ever, my dear Philip, your most affectionate
sister, 'LUCY TALBOT.'

Edward stood motionless when he had perused this letter; for the
conclusion was inevitable, that by the Colonel's journey in quest of
him, he had incurred this heavy calamity. It was severe enough, even in
its irremediable part; for Colonel Talbot and Lady Emily, long without a
family, had fondly exulted in the hopes which were now blasted. But this
disappointment was nothing to the extent of