'I believe,' said Major Melville, 'that I must give this young man in charge to some of the detached parties of armed volunteers who were lately sent out to overawe the disaffected districts. They are now recalled towards Stirling, and a small body comes this way to-morrow or next day, commanded by the westland man--what's his name? You saw him, and said he was the very model of one of Cromwell's military saints.' 'Gilfillan, the Cameronian,' answered Mr. Morton. 'I wish the young gentleman may be safe with him. Strange things are done in the heat and hurry of minds in so agitating a crisis, and I fear Gilfillan is of a sect which has suffered persecution without learning mercy.' 'He has only to lodge Mr. Waverley in Stirling Castle,' said the Major; 'I will give strict injunctions to treat him well. I really cannot devise any better mode for securing him, and I fancy you would hardly advise me to encounter the responsibility of setting him at liberty.' 'But you will have no objection to my seeing him tomorrow in private?' said the minister. 'None, certainly; your loyalty and character are my warrant. But with what view do you make the request?' 'Simply,' replied Mr. Morton, 'to make the experiment whether he may not be brought to communicate to me some circumstances which may hereafter be useful to alleviate, if not to exculpate, his conduct.' The friends now parted and retired to rest, each filled with the most anxious reflections on the state of the country. CHAPTER XXXIII A CONFIDANT Waverley awoke in the morning from troubled dreams and unrefreshing slumbers to a full consciousness of the horrors of his situation. How it might terminate he knew not. He might be delivered up to military law, which, in the midst of civil war, was not likely to be scrupulous in the choice of its victims or the quality of the evidence. Nor did he feel much more comfortable at the thoughts of a trial before a Scottish court of justice, where he knew the laws and forms differed in many respects from those of England, and had been taught to believe, however erroneously, that the liberty and rights of the subject were less carefully protected. A sentiment of bitterness rose in his mind against the government, which he considered as the cause of his embarrassment and peril, and he cursed internally his scrupulous rejection of Mac-Ivor's invitation to accompany him to the field. 'Why did not I,' he said to himself, 'like other men of honour, take the earliest opportunity to welcome to Britain the descendant of her ancient kings and lineal heir of her throne? Why did not I-- Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith, Seek out Prince Charles, and fall before his feet?