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 TlE PEAK. 6.35
have ensured your condemnation. But could I have done this, knowing, as
I now know, that to thee, Julian Peveril, I owe the extrication of my
daughter-of my dearest Alice-the memory of her departed mother-from
the snares which hell and profligacy had opened around her?"
"She is, I trust, safe," said Peveril, eagerly, and almost forgetting his
father's presence; "'she is, I trust, safe, and in your own wardship?"
"Not in mine," said the dejected father; "but in that of one in whose
protection, next to that of Heaven, I can most fully confide."
"Are you sure - are you very sure of that?" repeated Julian, eagerly.
"I found her under the charge of one to whom she had been trusted, and
who yet. "
" And who yet was the basest of women," answered Bridgenorth; "but
he who selected her for the charge was deceived in her character."
" Say rather you were deceived in his; remember that when we parted at
Moultrassie, I warned you of that Ganlesse-that "
" I know your meaning," said Bridgenorth; "nor did you err in describing him as a worldly-wise man. But he has atoned for his error by recovering Alice from the dangers into which she was plunged when separated from you; and besides, I have not thought meet again to intrust him
with the charge that is dearest to me."'
" I thank God your eyes are thus far opened i" said Julian.
" This day will open them wide, or close them for ever," answered Bridgenorth.
During this dialogue, which the speakers hurried through without attending to the others who were present, Sir Geoffrey listened with surprise and
eagerness, endeavouring to catch something which should render their conversation intelligible; but as he totally failed in gaining any such key to
their meaning, he broke in with,-"'Sblood and thunder, Julian, what unprofitable gossip is this? What hast thou to do with this fellow, more than
to bastinado him, if you should think it worth while to beat so old a rogue?"
"My dearest father," said Julian, " you know not this gentleman-I am
certain you do him injustice. My own obligations to him are many; and Ii
am sure when you come to know them —-— "
"I hope I shall die ere that moment come," said Sir Geoffrey; and continued with increasing violence, "I hope in the mercy of Heaven, that I
shall be in the grave of my ancestors, ere I learn that my son-my only son
-the last hope of my ancient house -the last remnant of the name of
Peveril-hath consented to receive obligations from the man on earth I am
most bound to hate, were I not still more bound to contemn him! —Degenerate dog-whelp!" he repeated with great vehemence, "you colour, without replying! Speak and disown such disgrace; or, by the God of my
fathers "
The dwarf suddenly stepped forward, and called out, "Forbear!" with a
voice at once so discordant and commanding, that it sounded supernatural.
"Man of sin and pride," he said, "forbear; and call not the name of a
holy God, to witness thine unhallowed resentments."
The rebuke so boldly and decidedly given, and the moral enthusiasm
with which he spoke, gave the despised dwarf an ascendancy for the moment over the fiery spirit of his gigantic namesake. Sir Geoffrey Peveril
eyed him for an instant askance and shyly, as he might have done a supernatural apparition, and then muttered, " What knowest thou of my cause
of wrath?"
"Nothing," said the dwarf;-" nothing but this —that no cause can warrant the oath thou wert about to swear. Ungrateful man! thou wert to-day
rescued from the devouring wrath of the wicked, by a marvellous conjunction of circumstances - Is this a day, thinkest thou, on which to indulge
thine own hasty resentments?"
"I stand rebuked," said Sir Geoffrey, " and by a singular monitor- the