The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

170 WAVE TRLEY NOVELS.
- she had that name when she lived on your honour's land, that 1,9, your
honour's worshipful mother's that was then - Grace be wi' her!"
"Ay," said the appalled nobleman, as his countenance sunk, and his
cheek assumed a hue yet more cadaverous; "that name is indeed written
in the most tragic page of a deplorable history. But what can she desire
of me? Is she dead or living?"
"Living, my lord; and entreats to see your lordship before she dies, for
she has something to communicate that hangs upon her very soul, and she
says she canna flit in peace until she sees you."
"Not until she sees me!-what can that mean? But she is doting with
age and infirmity. I tell thee, friend, I called at her cottage myself, not a
twelvemonth since, from a report that she was in.distress, and she did not
even know my face or voice."
"If your honour wad permit me," said Edie, to whom the length of the
conference restored a part of his professional audacity and native talkativeness - " if your honour wad but permit me, I wad say, under correction
of your lordship's better judgment, that auld Elspeth's like some of the
ancient ruined strengths and castles that ane sees amang the hills. There
are mony parts of her mind that appear, as I may say, laid waste and decayed, but then there's parts that look the steever, and the stronger, and the
grander, because they are rising just like to fragments amang the ruins o'
the rest. She's an awful woman."
" She always was so," said the Earl, almost unconsciously echoing the
observation of the mendicant; " she always was different from other women
-likest perhaps to her who is now no more, in her temper and turn of
mind.- She wishes to see me, then?"
"Before she dies," said Edie, " she earnestly entreats that pleasure."
"It will be a pleasure to neither of us," said the Earl, sternly, "yet she
shall be gratified. She lives, I think, on the sea-shore to the southward of
Fairport?"
" Just between Monkbarns and KnockWinnock Castle, but nearer to
Monkbarns. Your lordship's honour will ken the laird and Sir Arthur,
doubtless?"
A stare, as if he did not comprehend the question, was Lord Glenallan's
answer. Edie saw his mind was elsewhere, and did not venture to repeat a
query which was so little germain to the matter.
"Are you a Catholic, old man?" demanded the Earl.
"No, my lord," said Ochiltree stoutly; for the remembrance of the unequal division of the dole rose in his mind at the moment; "I thank
Heaven I am a good Protestant."
"1I-e who can conscientiously call himself good, has indeed reason to
thank Heaven, be his form of Christianity what it will-But who is he that
shall dare to do so!"
"Not I," said Edie; "I trust to beware of the sin of presumption."
"What was your trade in your youth?" continued the Earl.
"A soldier, my lord; and mony a sair day's kemping I've seen. I was
to have been made ci sergeant, but'"A soldier i then you have slain and burnt, and sacked and spoiled?"
" I winna say," replied Edie, " that I have been better than my neighbours;- it's a rough trade - war's sweet to them that never tried it."
" And you are now old and miserable, asking from precarious charity,
the food which in your youth you tore from the hand of the poor peasant'?"
"I am a beggar, it is true, my lord; but I am nae just sae miserable
neither. For my sins, I hae had grace to repent of them, if I might say
sae, and to lay them where they may be better borne than by me; and for
my food, naebody grudges an auld man a bit and a drink —Sac I live as I
can, and am contented to die when I am ca'd upon."
"And thus, then, with little to look back upon that is pleasant or praise