erley, without exposing my own presumption. If
you will give me a few moments for consideration, I will endeavour to
engraft the meaning of these lines upon a rude English translation,
which I have attempted, of a part of the original. The duties of the
tea-table seem to be concluded, and, as the evening is delightful, Una
will show you the way to one of my favourite haunts, and Cathleen and I
will join you there.'

Una, having received instructions in her native language, conducted
Waverley out by a passage different from that through which he had
entered the apartment. At a distance he heard the hall of the chief
still resounding with the clang of bagpipes and the high applause of
his guests. Having gained the open air by a postern door, they walked a
little way up the wild, bleak, and narrow valley in which the house was
situated, following the course of the stream that winded through it.
In a spot, about a quarter of a mile from the castle, two brooks, which
formed the little river, had their junction. The larger of the two came
down the long bare valley, which extended, apparently without any change
or elevation of character, as far as the hills which formed its boundary
permitted the eye to reach. But the other stream, which had its source
among the mountains on the left hand of the strath, seemed to issue from
a very narrow and dark opening betwixt two large rocks. These streams
were different also in character. The larger was placid, and even sullen
in its course, wheeling in deep eddies, or sleeping in dark blue pools;
but the motions of the lesser brook were rapid and furious, issuing from
between precipices, like a maniac from his confinement, all foam and
uproar.

It was up the course of this last stream that Waverley, like a knight of
romance, was conducted by the fair Highland damsel, his silent guide.
A small path, which had been rendered easy in many places for Flora's
accommodation, led him through scenery of a very different description
from that which he had just quitted. Around the castle, all was cold,
bare, and desolate, yet tame even in desolation; but this narrow glen,
at so short a distance, seemed to open into the land of romance. The
rocks assumed a thousand peculiar and varied forms. In one place, a
crag of huge size presented its gigantic bulk, as if to forbid the
passenger's farther progress; and it was not until he approached its
very base, that Waverley discerned the sudden and acute tur