[The first three couplets are from an old ballad, called the
Border Widow's Lament.]
'Alas!' thought Edward, 'is it thou? Poor helpless being, art thou alone
left, to gibber and moan, and fill with thy wild and unconnected scraps
of minstrelsy the halls that protected thee?'--He then called, first
low, and then louder, 'Davie--Davie Gellatley!'
The poor simpleton showed himself from among the ruins of a sort of
greenhouse, that once terminated what was called the Terrace-walk,
but at first sight of a stranger retreated, as if in terror. Waverley,
remembering his habits, began to whistle a tune to which he was partial,
which Davie had expressed great pleasure in listening to, and had picked
up from him by the ear. Our hero's minstrelsy no more equalled that of
Blondel, than poor Davie resembled Coeur de Lion; but the melody had
the same effect of producing recognition. Davie again stole from his
lurking-place, but timidly, while Waverley, afraid of frightening him,
stood making the most encouraging signals he could devise.--'It's his
ghaist,' muttered Davie; yet, coming nearer, he seemed to acknowledge
his living acquaintance. The poor fool himself appeared the ghost of
what he had been.
Pages:
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675