Waverley felt an involuntary shudder creep over him at the mysterious language held by this outlawed and lawless bandit, which, in despite of his attempts to master it, deprived him of the proper to ask the meaning of his insinuations.  A heath pallet, with the flowers stuck uppermost, had been prepared for him in a recess of the cave, and here, covered with such spare plaids as could be mustered, he lay for some time matching the motions of the other inhabitants of the cavern.  Small parties of two or three entered or left the place without any other ceremony than a few words in Gaelic to the principal outlaw, and, when he fell asleep, to a tall Highlander who acted as his lieutenant, and seemed to keep watch during his repose.  Those who entered, seemed to have returned from some excursion, of which they reported the success, and went without further ceremony to the larder, where, cutting with their dirks their rations from the carcasses which were there suspended, they proceeded to broil and eat them at their own pleasure and leisure.  The liquor was under strict regulation, being served out either by Donald himself, his lieutenant, or the strapping Highland girl aforesaid, who was the only female that appeared.  The allowance of whisky, however, would have appeared prodigal to any but Highlanders, who, living entirely in the open air, and in a very moist climate, can consume great quantities of ardent spirits without the usual baneful effects either upon the brain or constitution.

At length the fluctuating groups began to swim before the eyes of our hero as they gradually closed; nor did he re-open them till the morning sun was high on the lake without, though there was but a faint and glimmering twilight in the recesses of Uaimh an Ri, or the King’s Cavern, as the abode of Donald Bean Lean was proudly denominated.

CHAPTER XVIII

WAVERLEY PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY

Then Edward had collected his scattered recollection, he was surprised to observe the cavern totally deserted.  Having arisen and put his dress in some order, he looked more accurately round him; but all was still solitary.  If it had not been for the decayed brands of the fire, now sunk into grey ashes, and the remnants of the festival, consisting of bones half burnt and half gnawed, and an empty keg or two, there remained no traces of Donald and his band.  When Waverley sallied forth to the entrance of the cave, he perceived that the point of rock, on which remained the marks of last night’s beacon, was accessible by a small path, either natural, or roughly hewn in the rock, along the little inlet of water which ran a few yards up into the cavern, where, as in a wet-dock, the skiff which brought him there the night before was still lying moored.  When he reached the small projecting platform on which the beacon had been established, he would have believed his further progress by land