Passing hastily through a small and mean town, where their appearance
excited neither surprise nor curiosity in the few peasants whom the
labours of the harvest began to summon from their repose, the party
crossed an ancient and narrow bridge of several arches, and turning to
the left, up an avenue of huge old sycamores, Waverley found himself in
front of the gloomy yet picturesque structure which he had admired at a
distance. A huge iron-grated door, which formed the exterior defence
of the gateway, was already thrown back to receive them; and a second,
heavily constructed of oak, and studded thickly with iron nails, being
next opened, admitted them into the interior courtyard. A gentleman,
dressed in the Highland garb, and having a white cockade in his bonnet,
assisted Waverley to dismount from his horse, and with much courtesy bid
him welcome to the castle.
The governor for so we must term him, having conducted Waverley to a
half-ruinous apartment, where, however, there was a small camp-bed, and
having offered him any refreshment which he desired, was then about to
leave him.
'Will you not add to your civilities,' said Waverley, after having made
the usual acknowledgement, 'by having the kindness to inform me where I
am, and whether or not I am to consider myself as a prisoner?'
'I am not at liberty to be so explicit upon this subject as I could
wish.
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