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Updated: May 13, 2025
This hint produced dinner. Mrs. Flockhart, smiling in her weeds like the sun through a mist, took the head of the table, thinking within herself, perhaps, that she cared not how long the rebellion lasted that brought her into company so much above her usual associates. She was supported by Waverley and the Baron, with the advantage of the Chieftain vis-a-vis.
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 left the gentlemen to their own conversation, which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon the approaching events of the campaign.
'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?
Flockhart, apparently no friend to his minstrelsy, was pleased to observe, 'garring the very stane-and-lime wa's dingle wi' his screeching. Of course it soon became too powerful for Waverley's dream, with which it had at first rather harmonised. 'Winna yer honour bang up? Waverley sprung up, and, with Callum's assistance and instructions, adjusted his tartans in proper costume.
Flockhart left the gentlemen to their own conversation, which, as might be supposed, turned chiefly upon the approaching events of the campaign.
'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 was melted within her at the Chieftain's speech; she set up a lamentable blubbering, and positively refused to touch the bequest, which Fergus was therefore obliged to resume. 'Well, then, said the Chief, 'if I fall, it will go to the grenadier that knocks my brains out, and I shall take care he works hard for it.
Flockhart, sighing, as she observed the direction of his eyes, 'the puir Colonel bought a new ane just the day before they marched, and I winna let them tak that ane doun, but just to brush it ilka day mysell; and whiles I look at it till I just think I hear him cry to Callum to bring him his bonnet, as he used to do when he was ganging out.
'Merciful goodness! and if he's killed amang the red-coats! exclaimed the soft-hearted widow. 'Troth, if it should sae befall, Mrs. Flockhart, I ken ane that will no be living to weep for him. But we maun a' live the day, and have our dinner; and there's Vich Ian Vohr has packed his DORLACH, and Mr.
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