Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
'Your doubts,' quickly replied Waverley, 'are unjust as far as concerns
myself. The cause that I shall assert, I dare support through every
danger, as undauntedly as the boldest who draws sword in its behalf.'
'Of that,' answered Flora, 'I cannot doubt for a moment. But consult
your own good sense and reason, rather than a prepossession hastily
adopted, probably only because you have met a young woman possessed of
the usual accomplishments, in a sequestered and romantic situation. Let
your part in this great and perilous drama rest upon conviction, and not
on a hurried, and probably a temporary feeling.'
Waverley attempted to reply, but his words failed him. Every sentiment
that Flora had uttered vindicated the strength of his attachment; for
even her loyalty, although wildly enthusiastic, was generous and noble,
and disdained to avail itself of any indirect means of supporting the
cause to which she was devoted.
After walking a little way in silence down the path, Flora thus resumed
the conversation.--'One word more, Mr. Waverley, ere we bid farewell to
this topic for ever; and forgive my boldness if that word have the air
of advice. My brother Fergus is anxious that you should join him in his
present enterprise. But do not consent to this: you could not, by your
single exertions, further his success, and you would inevitably share
his fall, if it be God's pleasure that fall he must. Your character
would also suffer irretrievably. Let me beg you will return to your
own country; and, having publicly freed yourself from every tie to the
usurping government, I trust you will see cause, and find opportunity,
to serve your injured sovereign with effect, and stand forth, as your
loyal ancestors, at the head of your natural followers and adherents, a
worthy representative of the house of Waverley.'
'And should I be so happy as thus to distinguish myself, might I not
hope'--
'Forgive my interruption,' said Flora. 'The present time only is ours,
and I can but explain to you with candour the feelings which I now
entertain; how they might be altered by a train of events too favourable
perhaps to be hoped for, it were in vain even to conjecture: only be
assured, Mr. Waverley, that, after my brother's honour and happiness,
there is none which I shall more sincerely pray for than for yours.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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