At the bottom of the descent, and, as it seemed, by the side of a brook (for Waverley heard the rushing of a considerable body of water, although its stream was invisible in the darkness), the party again stopped before a small and rudely-constructed hovel.  The door was open, and the inside of the premises appeared as uncomfortable and rude as its situation and exterior foreboded.  There was no appearance of a floor of any kind; the roof seemed rent in several places; the walls were composed of loose stones and turf, and the thatch of branches of trees.  The fire was in the centre, and filled the whole wigwam with smoke, which escaped as much through the door as by means of a circular aperture in the roof.  An old Highland sibyl, the only inhabitant of this forlorn mansion, appeared busy in the preparation of some food.  By the light which the fire afforded, Waverley could discover that his attendants were not of the clan of Ivor, for Fergus was particularly strict in requiring from his followers that they should wear the tartan striped in the mode peculiar to their race; a mark of distinction anciently general through the Highlands, and still maintained by those chiefs who were proud of their lineage, or jealous of their separate and exclusive authority.

Edward had lived at Glennaquoich long enough to be aware of a distinction which he had repeatedly heard noticed; and now satisfied that he had no interest with his attendants, he glanced a disconsolate eye around the interior of the cabin.  The only furniture, excepting a washing-tub, and a wooden press, called in Scotland an ambry, sorely decayed, was a large wooden bed, planked, as is usual, all around, and opening by a sliding panel.  In this recess the Highlanders deposited Waverley, after he had by signs declined any refreshment.  His slumbers were broken and unrefreshing; strange visions passed before his eyes, and it required constant and reiterated efforts of mind to dispel them.  Shivering, violent headache, and shooting pains in his limbs, succeeded these symptoms; and in the morning it was evident to his Highland attendants or guard, for he knew not in which light to consider them, that Waverley was quite unfit to travel.  After a long consultation among themselves, six of the party left the hut with their arms, leaving behind an old and a young man.  The former addressed Waverley, and bathed the contusions, which swelling and livid colour now made conspicuous.  His own portmanteau, which the Highlanders had not failed to bring off, supplied him with linen, and, to his great surprise, was, with all its undiminished contents, freely resigned to his use.  The bedding of his couch seemed clean and comfortable, and his aged attendant closed the door of the bed, for it had no curtain, after a few words of Gaelic, from which Waverley gathered that he exhorted him to repose.  So behold our hero for a second time the patient of a Highland Aesculapius, but in a situation much more uncomfortable than when he was the guest of the worthy Tomanrait.