‘I have looked into my commission,’ said Mr. Gilfillan, subscribed by a worthy and professing nobleman, William, Earl of Glencairn; nor do I find it therein set down that I am to receive any charges or commands anent my doings from Major William Melville of Cairnvreckan.’

Major Melville reddened even to the well-powdered ears which appeared beneath his neat military side-curls, the more so, as he observed Mr. Morton smile at the same moment.  ‘Mr. Gilfillan,’ he answered with some asperity, ’I beg ten thousand pardons for interfering with a person of your importance.  I thought, however, that as you have been bred a grazier, if I mistake not, there might be occasion to remind you of the difference between Highlanders and Highland cattle; and if you should happen to meet with any gentleman who has seen service; and is disposed to speak upon the subject, I should still imagine that listening to him would do you no sort of harm.  But I have done, and have only once more to recommend this gentleman to your civility, as well as to your custody.—­Mr Waverley, I am truly sorry we should part in this way; but I trust, when you are again in this country, I may have an opportunity to render Cairnvreckan more agreeable than circumstances have permitted on this occasion.’

So saying, he shook our hero by the hand.  Morton also took an affectionate farewell; and Waverley, having mounted his horse, with a musketeer leading it by the bridle, and a file upon each side to prevent his escape, set forward upon the march with Gilfillan and his party.  Through the little village they were accompanied with the shouts of the children, who cried out, ’Eh! see to the Southland gentleman, that’s gaun to be hanged for shooting lang John Mucklewrath the smith!’

CHAPTER XXXVI

AN INCIDENT

The dinner-hour of Scotland Sixty Years since was two o’clock.  It was therefore about four o’clock of a delightful autumn afternoon that Mr. Gilfillan commenced his march, in hopes, although Stirling was eighteen miles distant, he might be able, by becoming a borrower of the night for an hour or two, to reach it that evening.  He therefore put forth his strength, and marched stoutly along at the head of his followers, eyeing our hero from time to time, as if he longed to enter into controversy with him.  At length unable to resist the temptation, he slackened his pace till he was alongside of his prisoner’s horse, and after marching a few steps in silence abreast of him, he suddenly asked,—­’Can ye say wha the carle was wi’ the black coat; and the mousted head, that was wi’ the Laird of Cairnvreckan?’

‘A Presbyterian clergyman,’ answered Waverley.

‘Presbyterian!’ answered Gilfillan contemptuously:  ’a wretched Erastian, or rather an obscured Prelatist,—­a favourer of the black Indulgence; ane of thae dumb dogs that canna bark:  they tell ower a clash o’ terror and a clatter o’ comfort in their sermons, without ony sense, or savour, or life.—­Ye’ve been fed in siccan a fauld, belike?’