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.

R-OB'ROY. 279
affections of her heart. But it was not surprising that I could not, at such
a moment, fully appreciate these honourable motives; yet my spleen sought
no ignoble means of discharging itself.
"I am contemned, then," I said, when left to run over the tenor of Sir
Frederick's communications-" I am contemned, and thought unworthy
even to exchange words with her. Be it so; they shall not at least prevent
me from watching over her safety.'Here will I remain as an outpost, and,
while under my roof at least, no danger shall threaten her, if it be such as
the arm of one determined man can avert."
I summoned Syddall to the library. He came, but came attended by the
eternal Andrew, who, dreaming of great things in consequence of my taking
possession of the Hall and the annexed estates, was resolved to lose nothing
for want of keeping himself in view; and, as often happens to men who
entertain selfish objects, overshot his mark, and rendered his attentions
tedious and inconvenient.
His unrequired presence prevented me from speaking freely to Syddall,
and I dared not send him away for fear of increasing such suspicions as he
might entertain from his former abrupt dismissal from the library. "I
shall sleep here, sir," I said, giving them directions to wheel nearer to the
fire an old-fashioned day-bed, or settee. "I have much to do, and shall go
late to bed."
Syddall, who seemed to understand my look, offered to procure me the
accommodation of a mattress and some bedding. I accepted his offer, dismissed my attendant, lighted a pair of candles, and desired that I might not
be disturbed till seven in the ensuing morning.
The domestics retired, leaving me to my painful and ill-arranged reflections, until nature, worn out, should require some repose.
I endeavoured forcibly to abstract my mind fronm the singular circumstances in which I found myself placed. Feelings which I had gallantly
combated while the exciting object was remote, were now exasperated by
my immediate neighbourhood to her whom I was so soon to part with for
ever. Her name was written in every book which I attempted to peruse;
and her image -forced itself on me in whatever train of thought I strove to
engage myself. It was like the officious slave of Prior's Solomon,Abra was ready ere I named her name,
And when I called another, Abra came.
I alternately gave way to these thoughts, and struggled against them,
sometimes yielding to a mood of melting tenderness of sorrow which was
scarce natural to me, sometimes arming myself with the hurt pride of one
who had experienced what he esteemed unmerited rejection. I paced the
library until I had chafed myself into a temporary fever. I then threw
myself on the couch, and endeavoured to dispose myself to sleep; — but it
was in vain that I used every effort to compose myself- that I lay without
movement of finger or of muscle, as still as if I had been already a corpse
- that I endeavoured to divert or banish disquieting thoughts, by fixing my
mind on some act of repetition or arithmetical process. My blood throbbed,
to my feverish apprehension, in pulsations which resembled the deep and
regular strokes of a distant fulling-mill, and tingled in my veins like streams
of liquid fire.
At length I arose, opened the window, and stood by it for some time in
the clear moonlight, receiving, in part at least, that refreshment and dis'sipation of ideas from the clear and calm scene, without which they had
become beyond the command of my own volition. I resumed my place on
the couch - with a heart, Heaven knows, not lighter, but firmer,:and more
resolved for endurance. In a short time a slumber crept over my senses;
still, however, though my senses slumbered, my soul was awake to the
painful feelings of my situation, and my dreams were of mental anguish
and external objects of terror.