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.

PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. 581
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Of airy tongues that syllable men's names.
Coeus.
JULIAN had fallen asleep, with his brain rather filled with his own sad
reflections, than with the mystical lore of the little Knight; and yet it
seemed as if in his visions the latter had been more present to his mind
than the former.
He dreamed of gliding spirits, gibbering phantoms, bloody hands, which,
dimly seen by twilight, seemed to beckon him forward like errant-knight
on sad adventure bound. More than once he started from his sleep, so
lively was the influence of these visions on his imagination; and he always
awaked under the impression that some one stood by his bedside. The
chillness of his ankles, the weight and clatter of the fetters, as he turned
himself on his pallet, reminded him on these occasions where he was, and
under what circumstances. The extremity to which he saw all that was
dear to him at present reduced, struck a deeper cold on his heart than the
iron upon his limbs; nor could he compose himself again to rest without a
mental prayer to Heaven for protection. But when he had been for a third
time awakened from repose by these thick-stirring fancies, his distress of
mind vented itself in speech, and he was unable to suppress the almost
despairing ejaculation, " God have mercy upon us!"
"Amen 1" answered a voice as sweet and " soft as honey dew," which
sounded as if the words were-spoken close by his bedside.
The natural inference was, that Geoffrey Hudson, his companion in calamity, had echoed the prayer which was so proper to the situation of both.
But the tone of voice was so different from the harsh and dissonant sounds
of the dwarfs enunciation, that Peveril was impressed with the certainty
it could not proceed from Hudson. He was struck with voluntary terror,
for which he could give no sufficient reason; and it was not without an
effort that he was able to utter the question, " Sir Geoffrey, did you speak?"
No answer was returned. I-e repeated the question louder; and the same
silver-toned voice, which had formerly said "Amen" to his prayers, answered
to his interrogatory, "Your companion will not awake while I am here."
" And who are you?-A~hat seek you?-How came you into this place?"
said Peveril, huddling, eagerly, question upon question.
" I am a wretched being, but one who loves you well - I come for your
good.- Concern yourself no farther."
It now rushed on Julian's mind, that he had heard of persons possessed
of the wonderful talent of counterfeiting sounds to such accuracy, that they
could impose on their hearers the belief, that they proceeded from a point of
the apartment entirely opposite to that which the real speaker occupied.
Persuaded that he had now gained the depth of the mystery, he replied,
"This trifling, Sir Geoffrey, is unseasonable. Say what you have to say in
your own voice and manner. These apish pleasantries do not become midnight in a Newgate dungeon."
"But the being who speaks with you," answered the voice, " is fitted for
the darkest hour, and the most melancholy haunts."
Impatient of suspense, and determined to satisfy his curiosity, Julian
jumped at once from his pallet, hoping to secure the speaker, whose voice
indicated he was so near. But he altogether failed in his attempt, and
grasped nothing save thin air.
For a turn or two, Peveril shuffled at random about the room, with his
arms extended; and then at last recollected, that with the impediment of
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