'Well, I never thought to have been so much indebted to the Pretend—'
'To the Prince,' said Waverley, smiling.
'To the Chevalier,' said the Colonel; 'it is a good travelling name, and which we may both freely use. Did he say anything more?'
'Only asked if there was anything else he could oblige me in; and when I replied in the negative, he shook me by the hand, and wished all his followers were as considerate, since some friends of mine not only asked all he had to bestow, but many things which were entirely out of his power, or that of the greatest sovereign upon earth. Indeed, he said, no prince seemed, in the eyes of his followers, so like the Deity as himself, if you were to judge from the extravagant requests which they daily preferred to him.'
'Poor young gentleman!' said the Colonel 'I suppose he begins to feel the difficulties of his situation. Well, dear Waverley, this is more than kind, and shall not be forgotten while Philip Talbot can remember anything. My life—pshaw—let Emily thank you for that—this is a favour worth fifty lives. I cannot hesitate on giving my parole in the circumstances: there it is—(he wrote it out in form)—and now, how am I to get off?'
'All that is settled: your baggage is packed, my horses wait, and a boat has been engaged, by the Prince's permission, to put you on board the Fox frigate. I sent a messenger down to Leith on purpose.'
'That will do excellently well. Captain Beaver is my particular friend: he will put me ashore at Berwick or Shields, from whence I can ride post to London;—and you must entrust me with the packet of papers which you recovered by means of your Miss Bean Lean. I may have an opportunity of using them to your advantage.—But I see your Highland friend, Glen—what do you call his barbarous name? and his orderly with him—I must not call him his orderly cut-throat any more, I suppose. See how he walks as if the world were his own, with the bonnet on one side of his head, and his plaid puffed out across his breast! I should like now to meet that youth where my hands were not tied: I would tame his pride, or he should tame mine,'
'For shame, Colonel Talbot! you swell at sight of tartan, as the bull is said to do at scarlet. You and Mac-Ivor have some points not much unlike, so far as national prejudice is concerned.'
The latter part of this discourse took place in the street. They passed the Chief, the Colonel and he sternly and punctiliously greeting each other, like two duellists before they take their ground. It was evident the dislike was mutual. 'I never see that surly fellow that dogs his heels,' said the Colonel, after he had mounted his horse, 'but he reminds me of lines I have somewhere heard—upon the stage, I think:
—Close behind him
Stalks sullen Bertram, like a sorcerer's fiend,
Pressing to be employed.'