th great
affected coolness, 'I could not but wonder, sir, at the fickleness of
taste which you were pleased to express the other day. But it was not an
angel, as you justly observed, who had charms for you, unless she brought
an empire for her fortune. I have now an excellent commentary upon that
obscure text.'

'I am at a loss even to guess at your meaning, Colonel Mac-Ivor, unless
it seems plain that you intend to fasten a quarrel upon me.'

'Your affected ignorance shall not serve you, sir. The Prince--the Prince
himself has acquainted me with your manoeuvres. I little thought that
your engagements with Miss Bradwardine were the reason of your breaking
off your intended match with my sister. I suppose the information that
the Baron had altered the destination of his estate was quite a
sufficient reason for slighting your friend's sister and carrying off
your friend's mistress.'

'Did the Prince tell you I was engaged to Miss Bradwardine?' said
Waverley. 'Impossible.'

'He did, sir,' answered Mac-Ivor; 'so, either draw and defend yourself or
resign your pretensions to the lady.' 'This is absolute madness,'
exclaimed Waverley, 'or some strange mistake!'

'O! no evasion! draw your sword!' said the infuriated Chieftain, his own
already unsheathed.

'Must I fight in a madman's quarrel?'

'Then give up now, and forever, all pretensions to Miss Bradwardine's
hand.'

'What title have you,' cried Waverley, utterly losing command of
himself--'what title have you, or any man living, to dictate such terms
to me?' And he also drew his sword.

At this moment the Baron of Bradwardine, followed by several of his
troop, came up on the spur, some from curiosity, others to take part in
the quarrel which they indistinctly understood had broken out between the
Mac-Ivors and their corps. The clan, seeing them approach, put themselves
in motion to support their Chieftain, and a scene of confusion commenced
which seamed likely to terminate in bloodshed. A hundred tongues were in
motion at once. The Baron lectured, the Chieftain stormed, the
Highlanders screamed in Gaelic, the horsemen cursed and swore in Lowland
Scotch. At length matters came to such a pass that the Baron threatened
to charge the Mac-Ivors unless they resumed their ranks, and many of
them, in return, presented their firearms at him and the other troopers.
The confusion was privately fostered by old Ballenkeiroch, who made no
doubt that his own day of vengeance w