t
the same moment, entreating Mr. Bradwardine to permit him to reply to
an affront which seemed levelled at him personally. But the Baron was
exalted by wine, wrath, and scorn, above all sublunary considerations.

'I crave you to be hushed, Captain Waverley; you are elsewhere,
peradventure, SUI JURIS,--foris-familiated, that is, and entitled, it
may be, to think and resent for yourself; but in my domain, in this poor
Barony of Bradwardine, and under this roof, which is QUASI mine, being
held by tacit relocation by a tenant at will, I am IN LOCO PARENTIS
to you, and bound to see you scathless.--And for you, Mr. Falconer of
Balmawhapple, I warn ye, let me see no more aberrations from the paths
of good manners.'

'And I tell you, Mr. Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine, of Bradwardine and
Tully-Veolan,' retorted the sportsman, in huge disdain, 'that I'll make
a moor-cock of the man that refuses my toast, whether it be a crop-eared
English Whig wi' a black ribband at his lug, or ane wha deserts his ain
friends to claw favour wi' the rats of Hanover.'

In an instant both rapiers were brandished, and some desperate passes
exchanged. Balmawhapple was young, stout, and active; but the Baron,
infinitely more master of his weapon, would, like Sir Toby Belch, have
tickled his opponent other gates than he did, had he not been under the
influence of Ursa Major.

Edward rushed forward to interfere between the combatants, but the
prostrate bulk of the Laird of Killancureit, over which he stumbled,
intercepted his passage. How Killancureit happened to be in this
recumbent posture at so interesting a moment, was never accurately
known. Some thought he was about to ensconce himself under the table; he
himself alleged that he stumbled in the act of lifting a joint-stool, to
prevent mischief, by knocking down Balmawhapple. Be that as it may,
if readier aid than either his or Waverley's had not interposed, there
would certainly have been bloodshed. But the well-known clash of swords,
which was no stranger to her dwelling, aroused Luckie Macleary as she
sat quietly beyond the hallan, or earthen partition of the cottage, with
eyes employed on Boston's CROOK OF THE LOT, while her ideas were engaged
in summing up the reckoning. She boldly rushed in, with the shrill
expostulation, 'Wad their honours slay ane another there, and bring
discredit on an honest widow-woman's house, when there was a' the
lee-land in the country to fight upon?' a remonstrance