His expressions made me shudder, even when I could not guess that--that--a friend"-- "Do not be too much alarmed on my account, my dearest Edith," said Henry, as he supported her in his arms; "Claverhouse, though stern and relentless, is, by all accounts, brave, fair, and honourable.

I am a soldier's son, and will plead my cause like a soldier.

He will perhaps listen more favourably to a blunt and unvarnished defence than a truckling and time-serving judge might do.

And, indeed, in a time when justice is, in all its branches, so completely corrupted, I would rather lose my life by open military violence, than be conjured out of it by the hocus-pocus of some arbitrary lawyer, who lends the knowledge he has of the statutes made for our protection, to wrest them to our destruction." "You are lost--you are lost, if you are to plead your cause with Claverhouse!" sighed Edith; "root and branchwork is the mildest of his expressions.

The unhappy primate was his intimate friend and early patron.