'Wha hast thou brought here, thou unsonsy villain, thou?' said an old
woman, apparently in great indignation. He heard Davie Gellatley, in
answer, whistle a part of the tune by which he had recalled himself to
the simpleton's memory, and had now no hesitation to knock at the door.
There was a dead silence instantly within, except the deep growling of
the dogs; and he next heard the mistress of the hut approach the door,
not probably for the sake of undoing a latch, but of fastening a bolt.
To prevent this, Waverley lifted the latch himself.
In front was an old wretched-looking woman, exclaiming, 'Wha comes into
folk's houses in this gate, at this time o' the night?' On one side, two
grim and half-starved deer greyhounds laid aside their ferocity at
his appearance, and seemed to recognize him. On the other side, half
concealed by the open door, yet apparently seeking that concealment
reluctantly, with a cocked pistol in his right hand, and his left in the
act of drawing another from his belt, stood a tall bony gaunt figure in
the remnants of a faded uniform, and a beard of three weeks' growth.
It was the Baron of Bradwardine. It is unnecessary to add, that he threw
aside his weapon, and greeted Waverley with a hearty embrace.
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