'They're
no there,' said Alick Polwarth, who guessed the cause of the dubious
look which Waverley cast backward, and who, with the vulgar appetite for
the horrible, was master of each detail of the butchery--'the heads are
ower the Scotch yate, as they ca' it. It's a great pity of Evan Dhu,
who was a very weel-meaning, good-natured man, to be a Hielandman; and
indeed so was the Laird o' Glennaquoich too, for that matter, when he
wasna in ane o' his tirrivies.
CHAPTER LXX
DOLCE DOMUM
The impression of horror with which Waverley left Carlisle softened
by degrees into melancholy--a gradation which was accelerated by the
painful, yet soothing, task of writing to Rose; and, while he could not
suppress his own feelings of the calamity, he endeavoured to place it
in a light which might grieve her without shocking her imagination. The
picture which he drew for her benefit he gradually familiarized to his
own mind; and his next letters were more cheerful, and referred to the
prospects of peace and happiness which lay before them. Yet, though his
first horrible sensations had sunk into melancholy, Edward had reached
his native county before he could, as usual on former occasions, look
round for enjoyment upon the face of nature.
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