entered Carlisle with happier auspices, to be sure--on the
16th of November last, for example, when we marched in, side by side,
and hoisted the white flag on these ancient towers. But I am no boy, to
sit down and weep because the luck has gone against me. I knew the stake
which I risked; we played the game boldly, and the forfeit shall be paid
manfully. And now, since my time is short, let me come to the questions
that interest me most--The Prince? has he escaped the bloodhounds?'

'He has, and is in safety.'

'Praised be God for that! Tell me the particulars of his escape.'

Waverley communicated that remarkable history, so far as it had then
transpired, to which Fergus listened with deep interest. He then asked
after several other friends; and made many minute inquiries concerning
the fate of his own clansmen. They had suffered less than other tribes
who had been engaged in the affair; for, having in a great measure
dispersed and returned home after the captivity of their Chieftain,
according to the universal custom of the Highlanders, they were not in
arms when the insurrection was finally suppressed, and consequently were
treated with less rigour. This Fergus heard with great satisfaction.

'You are rich,' he said, 'Waverley, and you are generous. When you
hear of these poor Mac-Ivors being distressed about their miserable
possessions by some harsh overseer or agent of Government, remember you
have worn their tartan, and are an adopted son of their race. The Baron,
who knows our manners, and lives near our country, will apprize you of
the time and means to be their protector. Will you promise this to the
last Vich Ian Vohr?'

Edward, as may well be believed, pledged his word; which he afterwards
so amply redeemed, that his memory still lives in these glens by the
name of the Friend of the Sons of Ivor.

'Would to God,' continued the Chieftain, 'I could bequeath to you my
rights to the love and obedience of this primitive and brave race:--or
at least, as I have striven to do, persuade poor Evan to accept of
his life upon their terms, and be to you what he has been to me, the
kindest,--the bravest,--the most devoted--'

The tears which his own fate could not draw forth, fell fast for that of
his foster-brother.

'But,' said he, drying them, 'that cannot be. You cannot be to them Vich
Ian Vohr; and these three magic words,' said he, half smiling, 'are the
only Open Sesame to their feelings and sympathies, and