could still hear the shouts of
the pursuers, and the more distant roll of the royal drums beating to
arms. They had not gone far before they came upon an encampment in a
hollow. Here several Highlanders, with a horse or two, lay concealed.
They had not arrived very long before the tall Highlander, who had led
the soldiers such a dance, made his appearance quite out of breath, but
laughing gayly at the ease with which he had tricked his pursuers.

Edward was now mounted on a stout pony, and the whole party set forward
at a good round pace, accompanied by the Highlanders as an escort. They
continued without molestation all the night, till, in the morning light,
they saw a tall old castle on the opposite bank of the river, upon the
battlements of which they could see the plaid and targe of a Highland
sentry, and over which floated the white banner of the exiled Stuarts.

They passed through a small town, and presently were admitted into the
courtyard of the ancient fortress, where Edward was courteously
received by a chief in full dress and wearing a white cockade. He showed
Waverley directly to a half-ruinous apartment where, however, there was
a small camp bed. Here he was about to leave him, after asking him what
refreshment he would take, when Edward, who had had enough of mysteries,
requested that he might be told where he was.

"You are in the castle of Doune, in the district of Menteith," said the
governor of the castle, "and you are in no danger whatever. I command
here for his Royal Highness Prince Charles."

At last it seemed to Waverley as if he had reached a place of rest and
safety. But it was not to be. On the very next day he was put in charge
of a detachment of irregular horsemen who were making their way eastward
to join the forces of the Prince. The leader of this band was no other
than the Laird of Balmawhapple, who, backing words by deeds, had
mustered his grooms and huntsmen in the cause of the Stuarts. Edward
attempted to speak civilly to him, but found himself brutally repulsed.
Captain Falconer of Balmawhapple had noways forgotten the shrewd pinch
in the sword-arm which he had received from the Baron of Bradwardine in
Waverley's quarrel.

At first Edward had better luck with his Lieutenant, a certain
horse-coper or dealer. This man had sold Balmawhapple the chargers upon
which to mount his motley array, and seeing no chance of getting his
money except by "going out" himself, he had accepted the