future prospects. The Baron's plan was
very simple. It was, to escape to France, where, by the interest of his
old friends, he hoped to get some military employment, of which he
still conceived himself capable. He invited Waverley to go with him,
a proposal in which he acquiesced, providing the interest of Colonel
Talbot should fail in procuring his pardon. Tacitly he hoped the Baron
would sanction his addresses to Rose, and give him a right to assist him
in his exile; but he forbore to speak on this subject until his own fate
should be decided. They then talked of Glennaquoich, for whom the
Baron expressed great anxiety, although, he observed, he was 'the very
Achilles of Horatius Flaccus,--

Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer.

Which,' he continued, 'has been thus rendered (vernacularly) by Struan
Robertson:

A fiery etter-cap, a fractious chiel,
As het as ginger, and as stieve as steel.'

Flora had a large and unqualified share of the good old man's sympathy.

It was now wearing late. Old Janet got into some kind of kennel behind
the hallan. Davie had been long asleep and snoring between Ban and
Buscar. These dogs had followed him to the hut after the mansion-house
was deserted, and there constantly resided; and their ferocity, with the
old woman's reputation of being a witch, contributed a good deal to keep
visitors from the glen. With this view, Bailie Macwheeble provided Janet
underhand with meal for their maintenance, and also with little articles
of luxury for their patron's use, in supplying which much precaution was
necessarily used. After some compliments, the Baron occupied his usual
couch, and Waverley reclined in an easy-chair of tattered velvet, which
had once garnished the state bed-room of Tully-Veolan (for the furniture
of this mansion was now scattered through all the cottages in the
vicinity), and went to sleep as comfortably as if he had been in a bed
of down.

CHAPTER LXV

MORE EXPLANATION

With the first dawn of the day, old Janet was scuttling about the house
to wake the Baron, who usually slept sound and heavily.

'I must go back,' he said to Waverley, to my cove: will you walk down
the glen wi' me?'

They went out together, and followed a narrow and entangled footpath,
which the occasional passage of anglers, or wood-cutters, had traced by
the side of the stream. On their way, the Baron explained to Waverley,
that he would be under no danger in remaining a da