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.

400 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
dent to its situation, and was, like the buttresses, overrun with ivy and
other crceping plants. An iron ring, contrived so as when drawn up and
down to rattle against the bar of notched iron through which it was suspended, served the purpose of a knocker; and to this he applied himsel~,.
though with the greatest precaution.
I-le received no answer for some time, and indeed it seemed as if the house
was totally uninhabited; when, at length, his impatience getting the upper
hand, he tried to open the door, and, as it was only upon the latch, very
easily succeeded. He passed through a little low-arched hall, the upper end
of which was occupied by a staircase, and turning to the left, opened the
door of a summer parlour, wainscoted with black oak, and very simply furnished with chairs and tables of the same materials; the former cushioned
with leather. The apartment was gloomy -one of those stone-shafted
windows which we have mentioned, with its small latticed panes, and thick
garland of foliage, admittiho- but an imperfect light.
Over the chimneypiece (which was of the same massive materials with
the panelling of the. apartment) was the only ornament of the room; a
painting, namely, representing an officer in the military dress of the Civil
Wars. It was a green jerkin, then the national -and peculiar wear of the
Manxmen; his short band which hung down on the cuirass -the orangecoloured scarf, but, above all, the shortness of his close-cut hair, showing
evidently to which of the great parties he had belonged. His right hand
rested on the hilt of his sword; and in the left he held a small Bible, bearing the inscription, " In hoc signo." The countenance was of a light complexion, with fair and almost effeminate blue eyes, and an oval form of face
- one of those physiognomies, to which, though not otherwise unpleasing,
we naturally attach the idea of melancholy and of misfortune.* Apparently it was well known to Julian Peveril; for after having looked at it for
a long time, he could not forbear muttering aloud, " What would I give that
that man had never been born, or that he still lived 1"
" How now- how is this?" said a female, who entered the room as he
uttered this reflection. " You here, Master Peveril, in spite of all the warnings you have had! You here in the possession of folk's house when they
are abroad, and talking to yourself, as I shall warrant!"
"Yes, Mistress Deborah," said Peveril, "I am here once more, as you
see, against every prohibition, and in defiance of all danger. - Where is
Alice?"
"Where you will never see her, Master Julian-you may satisfy yourself
of that," answered Mistress Deborah, for it was that respectable governante;
and sinking down at the same time upon one of the large leathern chairs,
she began to fan herself with her handkerchief, and complain of the heat
in a most ladylike fashion.
In fact, Mistress Debbitch, while her exterior intimated a considerable
change of condition for the better, and her countenance showed the less
favourable effects of the twenty years which had passed over her head, was
in mind and manners very much what she had been when she battled the
opinions of Madam Ellesmere at Martindale Castle. In a word, she was
self-willed, obstinate, and coquettish as ever, otherwise no ill-disposed person.
1Ier present appearance was that of a woman of the better rank. From
the sobriety of the fashion of her dress, and the uniformity of its colours,
it was plain she belonged to somee sect which condenlned superfluous gaiety
in attire; but no rules, not those of a nunnery or of a quaker's society, can
prevent a little coquetry in that particular, where a woman is desirous of
I am told that a portrait of the llifortllate William Christian is still preserved in the family of Waterson
of Ballnllhow of Kirk Church, Iusildn. William tlDhone is dressed in a green coat witilout collar or cape,
after tlhe fashion of those puritanic limes, with tihehead in a close-cropt wig. resembling the bishop's pernke
of the present day The coun!;ennnce is vouthful and well-looking. very unlike the expression of foreboding
melanciloly. I have so fna tlaken advantage of this criticism. as to bring my ideal portrait in the present
edition, nearer to tile complexion at least of the fair-hlaired William DhOlul,.