Born in 1771, died in 1832; educated at Edinburgh; sheriff of Selkirkshire in 1799; published "The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border" in 1802-03; "The Lay of the Last Minstrel" in 1805, followed by "Marmion" in 1808, and "The Lady of the Lake" in 1810; his first novel, "Waverley," published in 1814; involved to the extent of L120,000 in the failure of his publishers in 1826; with additional private debts of L30,000; struggled the rest of his life under this load of debt, which his writings finally extinguished; made a baronet in 1820; lived at Abbotsford, 1812-1826. I THE ARRIVAL OF THE MASTER OF RAVENSWOOD[7] Hardly had Miss Ashton dropt the pen, when the door of the apartment flew open, and the Master of Ravenswood, entered the apartment. Lockhart and another domestic, who had in vain attempted to oppose his passage through the gallery or antechamber, were seen standing on the threshhold transfixt with surprize, which was instantly communicated to the whole party in the stateroom. That of Colonel Douglas Ashton was mingled with resentment; that of Bucklaw with haughty and affected indifference; the rest, even Lady Ashton herself, showed signs of fear; and Lucy seemed stiffened to stone by this unexpected apparition. Apparition it might well be termed, for Ravenswood had more the appearance of one returned from the dead than of a living visitor. He planted himself full in the middle of the apartment, opposite to the table at which Lucy was seated, on whom, as if she had been alone in the chamber, he bent his eyes with a mingled expression of deep grief and deliberate indignation. His dark-colored riding cloak, displaced from one shoulder, hung around one side of his person in the ample folds of the Spanish mantle. The rest of his rich dress was travel-soiled, and deranged by hard riding. He had a sword by his side, and pistols in his belt. His slouched hat, which he had not yet removed at entrance, gave an additional gloom to his dark features, which, wasted by sorrow and marked by the ghastly look communicated by long illness, added to a countenance naturally somewhat stern and wild, a fierce and even savage expression. The matted and disheveled locks of hair which escaped from under his hat, together with his fixt and unmoved posture, made his head more resemble that of a marble bust than that of a living man. He said not a single word, and there was a deep silence in the company for more than two minutes. It was broken by Lady Ashton, who in that space partly recovered her natural audacity. She demanded to know the cause of his unauthorized intrusion. "That is a question, madam," said her son, "which I have the best right to ask; and I must request of the Master of Ravenswood to follow me where he can answer it at leisure."