Waverley, as he cast his eyes towards this scene of smoke and slaughter,
observed Colonel Gardiner, deserted by his own soldiers in spite of all
his attempts to rally them, yet spurring his horse through the field to
take the command of a small body of infantry, who, with their backs
arranged against the wall of his own park (for his house was close by the
field of battle), continued a desperate and unavailing resistance.
Waverley could perceive that he had already received many wounds, his
clothes and saddle being marked with blood. To save this good and brave
man became the instant object of his most anxious exertions. But he could
only witness his fall. Ere Edward could make his way among the
Highlanders, who, furious and eager for spoil, now thronged upon each
other, he saw his former commander brought from his horse by the blow of
a scythe, and beheld him receive, while on the ground, more wounds than
would have let out twenty lives. When Waverley came up, however,
perception had not entirely fled. The dying warrior seemed to recognize
Edward, for he fixed his eye upon him with an upbraiding, yet sorrowful,
look, and appeared to struggle, for utterance.
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