 silence, Colonel Talbot apparently studying how to open what he
had to say; at length he addressed Edward.
    »Mr. Waverley, you have this day saved my life; and yet I would to God that
I had lost it, ere I had found you wearing the uniform and cockade of these
men.«
    »I forgive your reproach, Colonel Talbot; it is well meant, and your
education and prejudices render it natural. But there is nothing extraordinary
in finding a man, whose honour has been publicly and unjustly assailed, in the
situation which promised most fair to afford him satisfaction on his
calumniators.«
    »I should rather say, in the situation most likely to confirm the reports
which they have circulated,« said Colonel Talbot, »by following the very line of
conduct ascribed to you. Are you aware, Mr. Waverley, of the infinite distress
and even danger, which your present conduct has occasioned to your nearest
relatives?«
    »Danger!«
    »Yes, sir, danger. When I left England, your uncle and father had been
obliged to find bail to answer a charge of treason, to which they were only
admitted by the exertion of the most powerful interest. I came down to Scotland,
with the sole purpose of rescuing you from the gulf into which you have
precipitated yourself; nor can I estimate the consequences to your family of
your having openly joined the rebellion, since the very suspicion of your
intention was so perilous to them. Most deeply do I regret that I did not meet
you before this last and fatal error.«
    »I am really ignorant,« said Waverley in a tone of reserve, »why Colonel
Talbot should have taken so much trouble on my account.«
    »Mr. Waverley,« answered Talbot, »I am dull at apprehending irony; and
therefore I shall answer your words according to their plain meaning. I am
indebted to your uncle for benefits greater than those which a son owes to a
father. I acknowledge to him the duty of a son; and as I know there is no manner
in which I can requite his kindness so well as by serving you, I will serve you,
if possible, whether you will permit me or no. The personal obligation which you
have this day laid me under (although in common estimation as great as one human
being can bestow on another) adds nothing to my zeal on your behalf; nor can
that zeal be abated by any coolness with which you may please to receive it.«
    »Your intentions may be kind, sir,« said Waverley, drily
