Edward had little doubt that this phantom was the operation of an exhausted frame and depressed spirits, working on the belief common to all Highlanders in such superstitions.  He did not the less pity Fergus, for whom, in his present distress, he felt all his former regard revive.  With the view of diverting his mind from these gloomy images, he offered with the Baron’s permission, which he knew he could readily obtain, to remain in his quarters till Fergus’s corps should come up, and then to march with them as usual.  The Chief seemed much pleased, yet hesitated to accept the offer.

‘We are, you know, in the rear,—­the post of danger in a retreat.’

‘And therefore the post of honour.’

‘Well,’ replied the Chieftain, ’let Alick have your horse in readiness, in case we should be over-matched, and I shall be delighted to have your company once more.’

The rearguard were late in making their appearance, having been delayed by various accidents and by the badness of the roads.  At length they entered the hamlet.  When Waverley joined the clan Mac-Ivor, arm in arm with their Chieftain, all the resentment they had entertained against him seemed blown off at once.  Evan Dhu received him with a grin of congratulation; and even Callum, who was running about as active as ever, pale indeed, and with a great patch on his head, appeared delighted to see him.

‘That gallows-bird’s skull,’ said Fergus, ’must be harder than marble:  the lock of the pistol was actually broken.’

‘How could you strike so young a lad so hard?’ said Waverley, with some interest.

’Why, if I did not strike hard sometimes, the rascals would forget themselves.’

They were now in full march, every caution being taken to prevent surprise.  Fergus’s people, and a fine clan regiment from Badenoch, commanded by Cluny Mac-Pherson, had the rear.  They had passed a large open moor, and were entering into the enclosures which surround a small village called Clifton.  The winter sun had set, and Edward began to rally Fergus upon the false predictions of the Grey Spirit.  ’The Ides of March are not past,’ said Mac-Ivor, with a smile; when, suddenly casting his eyes back on the moor, a large body of cavalry was indistinctly seen to hover upon its brown and dark surface.  To line the enclosures facing the open ground, and the road by which the enemy must move from it upon the village, was the work of a short time.  While these manoeuvres were accomplishing, night sunk down, dark and gloomy, though the moon was at full.  Sometimes, however, she gleamed forth a dubious light upon the scene of action.