interesting conversation, and rise amid the din of
battle, »loud as a trumpet with a silver sound.« The sense that she was in the
presence of the dreadful chief upon whose fiat the fate of Henry Morton must
depend - the recollection of the terror and awe which were attached to the very
name of the commander, deprived her for some time, not only of the courage to
answer, but even of the power of looking upon him. But when, emboldened by the
soothing tones of his voice, she lifted her eyes to frame some reply, the person
on whom she looked bore, in his appearance at least, none of the terrible
attributes in which her apprehensions had arrayed him.
    Grahame of Claverhouse was in the prime of life, rather low of stature, and
slightly, though elegantly, formed; his gesture, language, and manners, were
those of one whose life had been spent among the noble and the gay. His features
exhibited even feminine regularity. An oval face, a straight and well-formed
nose, dark hazel eyes, a complexion just sufficiently tinged with brown to save
it from the charge of effeminacy, a short upper lip, curved upward like that of
a Grecian statue, and slightly shaded by small mustachios of light brown, joined
to a profusion of long curled locks of the same colour, which fell down on each
side of his face, contributed to form such a countenance as limners love to
paint and ladies to look upon.
    The severity of his character, as well as the higher attributes of undaunted
and enterprising valour which even his enemies were compelled to admit, lay
concealed under an exterior which seemed adapted to the court or the saloon
rather than to the field. The same gentleness and gaiety of expression which
reigned in his features seemed to inspire his actions and gestures; and, on the
whole, he was generally esteemed, at first sight, rather qualified to be the
votary of pleasure than of ambition. But under this soft exterior was hidden a
spirit unbounded in daring and in aspiring, yet cautious and prudent as that of
Machiavel himself. Profound in politics, and imbued, of course, with that
disregard for individual rights which its intrigues usually generate, this
leader was cool and collected in danger, fierce and ardent in pursuing success,
careless of facing death himself, and ruthless in inflicting it upon others.
Such are the characters formed in times of civil discord, when the highest
qualities, perverted by party spirit, and inflamed by habitual opposition, are
too often combined with vices and excesses which deprive them at once of their
merit and