Ay, they will make root-and-branch-work, I
warrant them.'
'And while you recommend flight to me,' said Edward,--'a counsel which I
would rather die than embrace,--what are your own views?'
'O,' answered Fergus, with a melancholy air, 'my fate is settled. Dead or
captive I must be before tomorrow.'
'What do you mean by that, my friend?' said Edward. 'The enemy is still a
day's march in our rear, and if he comes up, we are still strong enough
to keep him in check. Remember Gladsmuir.'
'What I tell you is true notwithstanding, so far as I am individually
concerned.'
'Upon what authority can you found so melancholy a prediction?' asked
Waverley.
'On one which never failed a person of my house. I have seen,' he said,
lowering his voice, 'I have seen the Bodach Glas.'
'Bodach Glas?'
'Yes; have you been so long at Glennaquoich, and never heard of the Grey
Spectre? though indeed there is a certain reluctance among us to mention
him.'
'No, never.'
'Ah! it would have been a tale for poor Flora to have told you. Or, if
that hill were Benmore, and that long blue lake, which you see just
winding towards yon mountainous country, were Loch Tay, or my own Loch an
Ri, the tale would be better suited with scenery.
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