She had
no sooner looked on Edward than she dropped the light, with a shrill
scream of 'O feyther, feyther!'
The father, thus invoked, speedily appeared--a sturdy old farmer, in a
pair of leather breeches, and boots pulled on without stockings, having
just started from his bed; the rest of his dress was only a Westmoreland
statesman's robe-de-chambre--that is, his shirt. His figure was displayed
to advantage by a candle which he bore in his left hand; in his right he
brandished a poker.
'What hast ho here, wench?'
'O!' cried the poor girl, almost going off in hysterics, 'I thought it
was Ned Williams, and it is one of the plaid-men.'
'And what was thee ganging to do wi' Ned Williams at this time o'
noight?' To this, which was, perhaps, one of the numerous class of
questions more easily asked than answered, the rosy-cheeked damsel made
no reply, but continued sobbing and wringing her hands.
'And thee, lad, dost ho know that the dragoons be a town? dost ho know
that, mon? ad, they'll sliver thee loike a turnip, mon.'
'I know my life is in great danger,' said Waverley, 'but if you can
assist me, I will reward you handsomely.
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