Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1Scott, Walter
History
Waverley; or, 'Tis sixty years since — Volume 1
Scott, Walter
Historical fiction; Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
intelligible, except something about the Centaurs and the
Lapithae.
CHAPTER XII
REPENTANCE AND A RECONCILIATION
Waverley was unaccustomed to the use of wine, excepting with great
temperance. He slept therefore soundly till late in the succeeding
morning, and then awakened to a painful recollection of the scene
of the preceding evening. He had received a personal affront--he,
a gentleman, a soldier, and a Waverley. True, the person who
offered it was not, at the time it was given, possessed of the
moderate share of sense which nature had allotted him; true also,
in resenting this insult, he would break the laws of Heaven as
well as of his country; true, in doing so, he might take the life
of a young man who perhaps respectably discharged the social
duties, and render his family miserable, or he might lose his own
--no pleasant alternative even to the bravest, when it is debated
coolly and in private.
All this pressed on his mind; yet the original statement recurred
with the same irresistible force. He had received a personal
insult; he was of the house of Waverley; and he bore a commission.
There was no alternative; and he descended to the breakfast
parlour with the intention of taking leave of the family, and
writing to one of his brother officers to meet him at the inn
midway between Tully-Veolan and the town where they were
quartered, in order that he might convey such a message to the
Laird of Balmawhapple as the circumstances seemed to demand. He
found Miss Bradwardine presiding over the tea and coffee, the
table loaded with warm bread, both of flour, oatmeal, and
barleymeal, in the shape of loaves, cakes, biscuits, and other
varieties, together with eggs, reindeer ham, mutton and beef
ditto, smoked salmon, marmalade, and all the other delicacies
which induced even Johnson himself to extol the luxury of a Scotch
breakfast above that of all other countries. A mess of oatmeal
porridge, flanked by a silver jug, which held an equal mixture of
cream and butter-milk, was placed for the Baron's share of this
repast; but Rose observed, he had walked out early in the morning,
after giving orders that his guest should not be disturbed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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