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'Lord forgie ye, Ensign Maccombich, said the alarmed Presbyterian; 'I'm sure the colonel wad never do the like o' that! 'Hout! hout! Mrs. Flockhart, replied the ensign, 'we're young blude, ye ken; and young saints, auld deils. 'But will ye fight wi' Sir John Cope the morn, Ensign Maccombich? demanded Mrs. Flockhart of her guest. 'Troth I'se ensure him, an' he'll bide us, Mrs.
Flockhart, said he, taking four or five broad pieces out of a well-filled purse and tossing the purse itself, with its remaining contents, into her apron, 'these will serve my occasions; do you take the rest. 'It is the testamentum militare, quoth the Baron, 'whilk, amang the Romans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative. But the soft heart of Mrs.
Flockhart, said he, taking four or five broad pieces out of a well-filled purse and tossing the purse itself, with its remaining contents, into her apron, 'these will serve my occasions; do you take the rest. 'It is the testamentum militare, quoth the Baron, 'whilk, amang the Romans, was privilegiate to be nuncupative. But the soft heart of Mrs.
'I wish to God, he said, 'the old den would tumble down upon the heads of the fools who attack and the knaves who defend it! I see, Waverley, you think I am mad. Leave us, Evan, but be within call. 'The Colonel's in an unco kippage, said Mrs. Flockhart to Evan as he descended; 'I wish he may be weel, the very veins on his brent brow are swelled like whipcord; wad he no tak something?
and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want of habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his features, without injuring their grace or intelligence. 'He's vera weel, said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething sae weel-far'd as your colonel, ensign. 'I wasna comparing them, quoth Evan, 'nor was I speaking about his being weel-favoured; but only that Mr.
Flockhart, Fergus Mac- Ivor's good-humoured landlady. 'Gude guide us, Mr. Waverley, is this you? na, ye needna be feared for me. I wad betray nae gentleman in your circumstances. Eh, lack-a-day! lack-a-day! here's a change o' markets; how merry Colonel MacIvor and you used to be in our house! And the good- natured widow shed a few natural tears.
When I returned to Edinburgh, a theatrical star of the first magnitude, I took a morning's holiday to drive down to Newhaven, in search of my old ally, Mistress Sandie Flockhart.
'Lord forgie ye, Ensign Maccombich, said the alarmed Presbyterian; 'I'm sure the colonel wad never do the like o' that! 'Hout! hout! Mrs. Flockhart, replied the ensign, 'we're young blude, ye ken; and young saints, auld deils. 'But will ye fight wi' Sir John Cope the morn, Ensign Maccombich? demanded Mrs. Flockhart of her guest. 'Troth I'se ensure him, an he'll bide us, Mrs.
Flockhart left the gentlemen to their own conversation, which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon the approaching events of the campaign.
and an air of bashfulness, which was in reality the effect of want of habitual intercourse with the world, gave interest to his features, without injuring their grace or intelligence. 'He's vera weel, said the Widow Flockhart, 'but no naething sae weel-far'd as your colonel, ensign. 'I wasna comparing them, quoth Evan, 'nor was I speaking about his being weel-favoured; but only that Mr.
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