the graces with which he performed the Highland fling, to convey to our hero symptoms of recognition.  Then, while busily employed in setting, whooping all the while, and snapping his fingers over his head, he of a sudden prolonged his side-step until it brought him to the place where Edward was standing, and, still keeping time to the music like Harlequin in a pantomime, he thrust a letter into our hero’s hand, and continued his saltation without pause or intermission, Edward, who perceived that the address was in Rose’s handwriting, retired to peruse it, leaving the faithful bearer to continue his exercise until the piper or he should be tired out.

The contents of the letter greatly surprised him.  It had originally commenced with dear sir; but these words had been carefully erased, and the monosyllable, sir, substituted in their place.  The rest of the contents shall be given in Rose’s own language:—­

’I fear I am using an improper freedom by intruding upon you, yet I cannot trust to any one else to let you know some things which have happened here, with which it seems necessary you should be acquainted.  Forgive me if I am wrong in what I am doing; for, alas!  Mr. Waverley, I have no better advice than that of my own feelings;—­my dear father is gone from this place, and when he can return to my assistance and protection, God alone knows.  You have probably heard, that in consequence of some troublesome news from the Highlands, warrants were sent out for apprehending several gentlemen in these parts, and, among others, my dear father.  In spite of all my tears and entreaties that he would surrender himself to the Government, he joined with Mr. Falconer and some other gentlemen, and they have all gone northwards, with a body of about forty horsemen.  So I am not so anxious concerning his immediate safety, as about what may follow afterwards, for these troubles are only beginning.  But all this is nothing to you, Mr. Waverley, only I thought you would be glad to learn that my father has escaped, in case you happen to have heard that he was in danger.

’The day after my father went off, there came a party of soldiers to Tully-Veolan, and behaved very rudely to Bailie Macwheeble; but the officer was very civil to me, only said his duty obliged him to search for arms and papers.  My father had provided against this by taking away all the arms except the old useless things which hung in the hall; and he had put all his papers out of the way.  But oh!  Mr. Waverley, how shall I tell you that they made strict inquiry after you, and asked when you had been at Tully-Veolan, and where you now were.  The officer is gone back with his party, but a non-commissioned officer and four men remain as a sort of garrison in the house.  They have hitherto behaved very well, as we are forced to keep them in good humour.  But these soldiers have hinted as if on your falling into their hands you would be in great danger; I cannot prevail on