'
'And so I will, Callum, give me my target; so, there we are fixed. How
does it look?'
'Like the bra' Highlander tat's painted on the board afore the mickle
change-house they ca' Luckie Middlemass's,' answered Callum; meaning, I
must observe, a high compliment, for in his opinion Luckie Middlemass's
sign was an exquisite specimen of art. Waverley, however, not feeling the
full force of this polite simile, asked him no further questions.
Upon extricating themselves from the mean and dirty suburbs of the
metropolis, and emerging into the open air, Waverley felt a renewal of
both health and spirits, and turned his recollection with firmness upon
the events of the preceding evening, and with hope and resolution towards
those of the approaching day.
When he had surmounted a small craggy eminence called St. Leonard's Hill,
the King's Park, or the hollow between the mountain of Arthur's Seat and
the rising grounds on which the southern part of Edinburgh is now built,
lay beneath him, and displayed a singular and animating prospect. It was
occupied by the army of the Highlanders, now in the act of preparing for
their march. Waverley had already seen something of the kind at the
hunting-match which he attended with Fergus Mac-Ivor; but this was on a
scale of much greater magnitude, and incomparably deeper interest.
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