remarked, from the flashes of our hero's spirit, that touching upon this
topic would be sure to defeat his purpose. He therefore pleaded, that the
invitation argued the Major's disbelief of any part of the accusation which was
inconsistent with Waverley's conduct as a soldier and a man of honour, and that
to decline his courtesy might be interpreted into a consciousness that it was
unmerited. In short, he so far satisfied Edward that the manly and proper course
was to meet the Major on easy terms, that, suppressing his strong dislike again
to encounter his cold and punctilious civility, Waverley agreed to be guided by
his new friend.
    The meeting, at first, was stiff and formal enough. But Edward having
accepted the invitation, and his mind being really soothed and relieved by the
kindness of Morton, held himself bound to behave with ease, though he could not
affect cordiality. The Major was somewhat of a bon vivant, and his wine was
excellent. He told his own campaign stories, and displayed much knowledge of men
and manners. Mr. Morton had an internal fund of placid and quiet gaiety, which
seldom failed to enliven any small party in which he found himself pleasantly
seated. Waverley, whose life was a dream, gave ready way to the predominating
impulse, and became the most lively of the party. He had at all times remarkable
natural powers of conversation, though easily silenced by discouragement. On the
present occasion, he piqued himself upon leaving on the minds of his companions
a favourable impression of one who, under such disastrous circumstances, could
sustain his misfortunes with ease and gaiety. His spirits, though not
unyielding, were abundantly elastic, and soon seconded his efforts. The trio
were engaged in very lively discourse, apparently delighted with each other, and
the kind host was pressing a third bottle of Burgundy, when the sound of a drum
was heard at some distance. The Major, who, in the glee of an old soldier, had
forgot the duties of a magistrate, cursed, with a muttered military oath, the
circumstances which recalled him to his official functions. He rose and went
towards the window, which commanded a very near view of the high-road, and he
was followed by his guests.
    The drum advanced, beating no measured martial tune, but a kind of
rub-a-dub-dub, like that with which the fire-drum startles the slumbering
artizans of a Scotch burgh. It is the object of this history to do justice to
all men; I must therefore record, in justice to the drummer,