‘But had you asked the Baron’s consent,’ said Waverley, ‘Or Rose’s?’

’To what purpose?  To have spoke to the Baron before I had assumed my title would have only provoked a premature and irritating discussion on the subject of the change of name, when, as Earl of Glennaquoich, I had only to propose to him to carry his d-d bear and bootjack party per pale, or in a scutcheon of pretence, or in a separate shield perhaps—­any way that would not blemish my own coat of arms.  And as to Rose, I don’t see what objection she could have made, if her father was satisfied.’

‘Perhaps the same that your sister makes to me, you being satisfied.’

Fergus gave a broad stare at the comparison which this supposition implied, but cautiously suppressed the answer which rose to his tongue.  ’Oh, we should easily have arranged all that.—­so, sir, I craved a private interview, and this morning was assigned; and I asked you to meet me here, thinking, like a fool, that I should want your countenance as bride’s-man.  Well—­I state my pretensions—­they are not denied; the promises so repeatedly made, and the patent granted—­they are acknowledged.  But I propose, as a natural consequence, to assume the rank which the patent bestowed—­I have the old story of the jealousy of C—­and M—­ trumped up against me—­I resist this pretext, and offer to procure their written acquiescence, in virtue of the date of my patent as prior to their silly claims—­I assure you I would have had such a consent from them, if it had been at the point of the sword.  And then, out comes the real truth; and he dares to tell me, to my face, that my patent must be suppressed for the present, for fear of disgusting that rascally coward and FAINEANT—­(naming the rival chief of his own clan)—­who has no better title to be a chieftain than I to be Emperor of China; and who is pleased to shelter his dastardly reluctance to come out, agreeable to his promise twenty times pledged, under a pretended jealousy of the Prince’s partiality to me.  And, to leave this miserable driveller without a pretence for his cowardice, the Prince asks if as a personal favour of me, forsooth, not to press my just and reasonable request at this moment.  After this, put your faith in princes!’

‘And did your audience end here?’

’End?  Oh, no!  I was determined to leave him no pretence for his ingratitude, and I therefore stated, with all the composure I could muster,—­for I promise you I trembled with passion,—­the particular reasons I had for wishing that his Royal Highness would impose upon me any other mode of exhibiting my duty and devotion, as my views in life made, what at any other time would have been a mere trifle, at this crisis a severe sacrifice; and then I explained to him my full plan.’

‘And what did the Prince answer?’