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.

THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL. 235
How fares the man on whom good men would look
Withll eyes where scorn and censure combated,
But that kind Christian love hath taught tile lessonThat they who merit most contempt and hate,
Do most deserve our pity.
OLD PLAY.
IT might have seemed natural that the visit of John Christie should have
entirely diverted Nigel's attention fromz his slumbering companion, and, for
a time, such was the immediate effect of the chain of new ideas which the
incident introduced; yet, soon after the injured man had departed, Lord
Glenvarloch began to think it extraordinary that the boy should have slept
so soundly, while they talked loudly in his vicinity. Yet he certainly did not
appear to have stirred. Was he well — was he only feigning sleep? lie
went close to him to make his observations, and perceived that he had wept,
and was still weeping, though his eyes were closed. lie touched him gently
on the shoulder -the boy shrunk from his touch, but did not awake. lie
pulled him harder, and asked him if he was sleeping.
"Do they waken folk in your country to know whether they are asleep
or no?" said the boy, in a peevish tone.
"No, my young sir," answered Nigel; "but when they weep in the
manner you do in your sleep, they awaken them to see what ails them."
" It signifies little to any one what ails me," said the boy.
"True," replied Lord Glenvarloch; "but you knew before you went to
sleep how little I could assist you in your difficulties, and you seemed disposed, notwithstanding, to put some confidence in me."
"If I did, I have changed my mind," said the lad.
"And what may have occasioned this change of mind, I trow?" said Lord
Glenvarloch. —" Some men speak through their sleep —perhaps you have
the gift of hearing in it."
" No, but the Patriarch Joseph never dreamt truer dreams than I do."
" Indeed!" said Lord Glenvarloch. "And, pray, what dream have you
had that has deprived me of your good opinion; for that, I think, seems
the moral of the matter?"
"You shall judge yourself," answered the boy. " I dreamed I was in a
wild forest, where there was a cry of hounds, and winding of horns, exactly
as I heard in Greenwich Park."
" That was because you were in the Park this morning, you simple child,"
said Nigel.
" Stay, my lord," said the youth. " I went on in my dream, till at the
top of a broad green alley, I saw a noble stag which had fallen into the
toils; and methought I knew that he was the very stag which the whole
party were hunting, and that if the chase came up, the dogs would tear him
to pieces, or the hunters would cut his throat; and I had pity on the gallant
stag, and though I was of a different kind from him, and though I was somewhat afraid of him, I thought I would venture something to free so stately
a creature; and I pulled out my knife, and just as I was beginning to cut
the meshes of the net, the animal started up in my face in the likeness of a
tiger, much larger and fiercer than any you may have seen in the ward of
the wild beasts yonder, and was just about to tear me limb from limb when
you awaked me."
"Methinks," said Nigel, "I deserve more thanks than I have got, for
rescuing you from such a danger by waking you. But, my pretty master,
mrethinks all this tale of a tiger and a stag has little to do with your chango
of temper towards me."