An accusation of the same grave crime hangs over his elder brother, Sir Everard Waverley, the representative of that ancient family; and we understand the day of his trial will be fixed early in the next month, unless Edward Waverley, son of the deceased Richard, and heir to the Baronet, shall surrender himself to justice.

In that case, we are assured it is his Majesty's gracious purpose to drop further proceedings upon the charge against Sir Everard.

This unfortunate young gentleman is ascertained to have been in arms in the Pretender's service, and to have marched along with the Highland troops into England.

But he has not been heard of since the skirmish at Clifton, on the 18th December last.' Such was this distracting paragraph.--'Good God!' exclaimed Waverley, 'am I then a parricide ?--Impossible! My father, who never showed the affection of a father while he lived, cannot have been so much affected by my supposed death as to hasten his own.

No, I will not believe it,--it were distraction to entertain for a moment such a horrible idea.
But it were, if possible, worse than parricide to suffer any danger to hang over my noble and generous uncle, who has ever been more to me than a father, if such evil can be averted by any sacrifice on my part!' While these reflections passed like the stings of scorpions through Waverley's sensorium, the worthy divine was startled in a long disquisition on the battle of Falkirk by the ghastliness which they communicated to his looks, and asked him if he was ill.