A desperate courage, founded on the belief that my death was near, made me resolve to make my way in despite of him.

I made the sign of the cross, drew my sword, and uttered, "In the name of God, Evil Spirit, give place!" "Vich Ian Vohr," it said, in a voice that made my very blood curdle, "beware of to-morrow!" It seemed at that moment not half a yard from my sword's point; but the words were no sooner spoken than it was gone, and nothing appeared further to obstruct my passage.

I got home, and threw myself on my bed, where I spent a few hours heavily enough; and this morning, as no enemy was reported to be near us, I took my horse, and rode forward to make up matters with you.

I would not willingly fall until I am in charity with a wronged friend.' Edward had little doubt that this phantom was the operation of an exhausted frame and depressed spirits, working on the belief common to all Highlanders in such superstitions.

He did not the less pity Fergus, for whom, in his present distress, he felt all his former regard revive.
With the view of diverting his mind from these gloomy images, he offered with the Baron's permission, which he knew he could readily obtain, to remain in his quarters till Fergus's corps should come up, and then to march with them as usual.