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.

ROB ROY. 275
"I hae been counted as gude a man as my neighbours ere now," said
Andrew, petulantly; " but I dinna pretend to deal wi' evil spirits." And so
he made his exit, as Wardlaw the Sand-steward made his appearance.
He was a man of sense and honesty, without wlose careful management
my uncle would have found it difficult to have maintained himself a housekeeper so long as he did. He examined the nature of my right of possession
carefully, and admitted it candidly. To any one else the succession would
have been a poor one, so much was the land encumbered with debt and mortgage. Most of these, however, were already vested in my father's person, and
he was in a train of acquiring the rest; his large gains, by the recent rise of
the funds, having made it a matter of ease and convenience for him to pay
off the debt which affected his patrimony.
I transacted much necessary business with Mr. Wardlaw, and detained
him to dine with me. We preferred taking our repast in the library, although Syddall strongly recommended our removing to the stone-hall, which
he had put in order for the occasion. Meantime Andrew made his appearance with his true-blue recruits, whom he recommended in the highest
terms, as " sober decent men, weel founded in doctrinal points, and, above
all, as bold as lions." I ordered them something to drink, and they left
the room. I observed old Syddall shake his head as they went out, and
insisted upon knowing the reason.
" I maybe cannot expect," he said, "that your honour should put confidence in what I say, but it is Heaven's truth for all that-Ambrose Wingfield is as honest a man as lives, but if there is a false knave in the country,
it is his brother Lancie;- the whole country knows him to be a spy for
Clerk Jobson on the poor gentlemen that have been in trouble —But he's a
dissenter, and I suppose that's enough now-a-days."
Having thus far given vent to his feelings, - to which, however, I was
little disposed to pay attention, - and having placed the wine on the table,
the old butler left the apartment..
Mr. Wardlaw having remained with me until the evening was somewhat
advanced, at length bundled up his papers, and removed himself to his own
habitation, leaving me in that confused state of mind in which we can
hardly say whether we desire company or solitude. I had not, however,
the choice betwixt them; for I was left alone in the room, of all others
most calculated to inspire me with melancholy reflections.
As twilight was darkening the apartment, Andrew had the sagacity to
advance his head at the door,- not to ask if I wished for lights, but to
recommend them as a measure of precaution against the bogIes which still
haunted his imagination. I rejected his proffer somewhat peevishly, trimmed
the wood-fire, and placing myself in one of the large leathern chairs which
flanked the old Gothic chimney, I watched unconsciously the bickering of
the blaze which I had fostered. "And this," said I aloud, " is the progress
and the issue of human wishes! Nursed by the merest trifles, they are
first kindled by fancy —nay, are fed upon the vapour of hope, till they
consume the substance which they inflame; and man, and his hopes, passions, and desires, sink into a worthless heap of embers and ashes!"
There was a deep sigh from the opposite side of the room, which seemed
to reply to my reflections. I started up in amazement-Diana Vernon
stood before me, resting on the arm of a figure so strongly resembling that
of the portrait so often mentioned, that I looked hastily at the frame, expecting to see it empty. My first'idea was, either that I had gone suddenly
distracted, or that the spirits of the dead had arisen and been placed before
me. A second glance convinced me of my being in my senses, and that
the forms which stood before me were real and substantial. It was Diana
herself, though paler and thinner than her former self; and it was no tenant
of the grave who stood beside her, but Vaughan, or rather Sir Frederick
Vernon, in a dress made to imitate that of his ancestor, to whose picture