"Yes."

"Do your father and mother always join them?"

"Yes."

Here William could restrain himself no longer. "Gude faith, Jock, man,"

said he, "ye're just telling a hirsel o' eindown lees. It canna be lees that the man wants, for that maks him nae the wiser; an' for you to say that my father rises to pray i' the nighttime, beats a', when ye ken my mither has baith to fleitch an' fight or she can get him eggit on till't i' the Sabbath e'enings. He's ower glad to get it foughten decently by, to rise an' fa' till't again. O fye, Jock! I wad stand by the truth; an', at ony rate, no just gaung to h.e.l.l open mouth."

When the volley of musketry went off, all the prisoners started and stared on one another; even the hundred veterans that guarded them appeared by their looks to be wholly at a loss. Macpherson alone ventured any remark on it. "Pe Cot's life, fat she pe pluff pluffing at now? May the teal more pe her soul's salvation, if she do not believe te man's pe gone out of all reason."

The women screamed; and Maron, whose tongue was a mere pendulum to the workings of the heart within, went on sighing and praying; asking questions, and answering them alternately; and at every pause, looked earnestly to her husband, who leaned against the corner of the room, ashamed that his bound hands should be seen.

"Och! Aigh me!" cried Maron,-"Dear sirs, what's the fock shootin at?-Eh?-I'm sure they hae nae battlers to fight wi' there?-No ane-I wat, no ane. Aigh now, sirs! the lives o' G.o.d's creatures!-They never shoot nae callants, do they? Oh, na, na, they'll never shoot innocent bairns, puir things! They'll maybe hae been trying how weel they could vizy at the wild ducks; there's a hantle o' cleckins about the saughs o'

the lake. Hout ay, that's a'.-He hasna forgotten to be gracious, nor is his mercy clean gane."

Thus poor Maron went on, and though she had but little discernment left, she perceived that there was a tint of indignant madness in her husband's looks. His lips quivered-his eyes dilated-and the wrinkles on his brow rolled up to the roots of his dark grizzled hair, "Watie,"

cried she, in a shrill and tremulous voice-"Watie, what ails ye-Oh!

tell me what ails ye, Watie?-What's the fock shooting at? Eh? Ye'll no tell me what they're shooting at, Watie?-Oh, oh, oh, oh!"

Walter uttered no word, nor did his daughter, who sat in dumb astonishment, with her head almost bent to her feet; but old Nanny joined in full chorus with her mistress, and a wild unearthly strain the couple raised, till checked by Serjeant Roy Macpherson.

"Cot's curse be t--ning you to te everlasting teal! fat toowhooing pe tat? Do you think that should the lenoch beg pe shot trou te poty, tat is te son to yourself? Do you tink, you will toowhoo him up akain?-Hay-Cot tamn, pe holding your paice."

CHAPTER X.

Upon the whole, there was no proof against Walter. Presumption was against him, but the evidence was rather in his favour. Military law, however, prevailed; and he found that there was no redress to be had of any grievance or insult, that this petty tyrant, in his caprice, thought fit to inflict. His drivers were ordered to take the whole stock from the farms of Kirkinhope, belonging to David Bryden, who lived at a distance, because it was proven, that Mr Renwick had preached and baptized some children on the bounds of that farm. That stock he caused to be taken to Selkirk, and sent orders to the sheriff to sell it by public roup, at the cross, to the highest bidder; but with Walter's stock he did not meddle at that time; so far did justice mark his proceedings. He strongly suspected him, and wished to have him convicted; and certainly would have taken all the family with him prisoners, had not the curateclerk arrived at that critical time. Him Clavers consulted apart, and was soon given to understand the steadfast loyalty of the gudewife, daughter, and all the family, save Walter, whom, he said, he suspected of a secret connivance with the Cameronians.

This was merely to serve a selfish purpose, for the clerk suspected no such thing at that time. It had the desired effect. Clavers set all the rest of the family free, but took the good man with him prisoner; put two of his best horses in requisition; mounted himself on a diminutive poney, with the thumbikins on his hands, and his feet chained below its belly. In this degrading situation, he was put under the care of Serjeant Roy Macpherson and five troopers; and Clavers, with the rest of his company, hasted, with great privacy and celerity, into that inhospitable wild, which forms the boundary between Drummelzier and the Johnstons of Annandale. The greater part of the fugitives had taken shelter there at that time, it being the most inaccessible part in the south of Scotland, and that where, of all others, they had been the least troubled. No troops could subsist near them; and all that the military could do was to set watches near every pa.s.s to and from these mountains, where a few stragglers were killed, but not many in proportion to the numbers that had there sought a retreat.

The Covenanters knew that Clavers would make a sweeping and exterminating circuit about that time-incidents which were not to be overlooked, had been paving the way for it-incidents with which the main body of that people were totally unconnected. But it was usual at that time, and a very unfair practice it was, that whatever was said, or perpetrated, by any intemperate fanatical individual, or any crazy wight, driven half mad by ill usage-whatever was said or done by such, was always attributed to the whole sect as a body. It is too true that the Privy Council chose, invariably, men void of all feeling or remorse to lead these troops. A man had nothing to study but to be cruel enough to rise in the army in those days; yet, because there was a Dalziel, a Graham, a Creighton, and a Bruce among the king's troops, it would be unfair to suppose all the rest as void of every principle of feeling and forbearance as they. In like manner, because some of the Covenanters said violent and culpable things, and did worse, it is hard to blame the whole body for these; for, in the scattered prowling way in which they were driven to subsist, they had no controul over individuals.

They had been looking for the soldiers' appearing there for several days, and that same morning had been on the watch; but the day was now so far advanced that they were waxen remiss, and had retired to their dens and hidingplaces. Besides, he came so suddenly upon them, that some parties, as well as several stragglers, were instantly discovered.

A most determined pursuit ensued, Clavers exerted himself that day in such a manner, gallopping over precipices, and cheering on his dragoons, that all the country people who beheld him believed him to be a devil, or at least mounted on one. The marks of that infernal courser's feet are shewn to this day on a steep, nearly perpendicular, below the Bubbly Craig, along which he is said to have ridden at full speed, in order to keep sight of a party of the flying Covenanters. At another place, called the Blue Sklidder, on the Merk side, he had far outrode all his officers and dragoons in the pursuit of five men, who fled straggling athwart the steep. He had discharged both his pistols without effect; and just as he was making ready to cleave down the hindmost with his sabre, he was attacked by another party, who rolled huge stones at him from the precipice above, and obliged him to make a hasty retreat.

Tradition has preserved the whole of his route that day with the utmost minuteness. It is not easy to account for this. These minute traditions are generally founded on truth; yet though two generations have scarcely pa.s.sed away since the date of this tale,[A] tradition, in this instance, relates things impossible, else Clavers must indeed have been one of the infernals. Often has the present relater of this tale stood over the deep green marks of that courser's hoof, many of which remain on that hill, in awe and astonishment, to think that he was actually looking at the traces made by the devil's foot, or at least by a horse that once belonged to him.

Five men were slain that day; but as they were all westland men, very little is known concerning them. One of them was shot at a distance by some dragoons who were in pursuit of him, just as he was entering a mora.s.s, where he would certainly have escaped them. He is buried on a place called the Watch Knowe, a little to the southeast of Loch Skene, beside a cairn where he had often sat keeping watch for the approach of enemies, from which circ.u.mstance the height derived its name. When he fell, it being rough broken ground, they turned and rode off without ever going up to the body. Four were surprised and taken prisoners on a height called KerCleuchRidge, who were brought to Clavers and shortly examined on a little crook in the Erne Cleuch, a little above the old steading at Hopertoudy.

Macpherson kept the high road, such as it was, with his prisoner; but travelled no faster than just to keep up with the parties that were scouring the hills on each side; and seeing these unfortunate men hunted in from the hill, he rode up with his companions and charge to see the issue, remarking to Walter, that "he woolt not pe much creat deal te worse of scheeing fwat te Cot t--n'd fwigs would pe getting."

How did Walter's heart smite him when he saw that one of them was the sensible, judicious, and honourable fellow with whom he fought, and whose arm he had dislocated by a blow with his stick! It was still hanging in a sling made of a double rash rope.

They would renounce nothing, confess nothing, nor yield, in the slightest degree, to the threats and insulting questions put by the general. They expected no mercy, and they cringed for none; but seemed all the while to regard him with pity and contempt. Walter often said that he was an ill judge of the cause for which these men suffered; but whatever might be said of it, they were heroes in that cause. Their complexions were sallow, and bore marks of famine and other privations; their beards untrimmed; their apparel all in rags, and their hats slouched down about their ears with sleeping on the hills. All this they had borne with resignation and without a murmur; and, when brought to the last, before the most remorseless of the human race, they shewed no symptoms of flinching or yielding up an item of the cause they had espoused.

When asked "if they would pray for the king?"

They answered, "that they would with all their hearts;-they would pray for his forgiveness, in time and place convenient, but not when every profligate bade them, which were a loathful scurrility, and a mockery of G.o.d."

"Would they acknowledge him as their right and lawful sovereign?"

"No, that they would never do! He was a b.l.o.o.d.y and designing papist, and had usurped a prerogative that belonged not to him. To acknowledge the Duke of York for king, would be to acknowledge the divine approbation of tyranny, oppression, usurpation, and all that militates against religion or liberty, as well as justifying the abrogation of our ancient law relating to the succession; and that, besides, he had trampled on every civil and religious right, and was no king for Scotland, or any land where the inhabitants did not chuse the most abject and degrading slavery. For their parts, they would never acknowledge him; and though it was but little that their protestations and their blood could avail, they gave them freely. They had but few left to mourn for them, and these few might never know of their fate; but there was _One_ who knew their hearts, who saw their sufferings, and in Him they trusted that the days of tyranny and oppression were wearing to a close, and that a race yet to come might acknowledge that they had not shed their blood in vain."

Clavers ordered them all to be shot. They craved time to pray, but he objected, sullenly alleging, that he had not time to spare. Mr Copland said,-"My lord, you had better grant the poor wretches that small indulgence." On which Clavers took out his watch, and said he would grant them two minutes, provided they did not howl. When the man with the hurt arm turned round to kneel, Walter could not help crying out to him in a voice half stifled with agony-

"Ah! lakaday, man! is it come to this with you, and that so soon? This is a sad sight!"

The man pretended to put on a strange and astonished look towards his benefactor.

"Whoever you are," said he, "that pities the sufferings of a hapless stranger, I thank you. May G.o.d requite you! but think of yourself, and apply for mercy where it is to be found, for you are in the hands of those whose boast it is to despise it."

Walter at first thought this was strange, but he soon perceived the policy of it, and wondered at his friend's readiness at such an awful hour, when any acknowledgment of connection would have been so fatal to himself. They kneeled all down, clasped their hands together, turned their faces to Heaven, and prayed in a scarce audible whisper. Captain Bruce, in the mean time, kneeled behind the files, and prayed in mockery, making a long face, wiping his eyes, and speaking in such a ludicrous whine, that it was impossible for the gravest face to retain its muscles unaltered. He had more to attend to him than the miserable sufferers. When the two minutes were expired, Clavers, who held his watch all the time, made a sign to the dragoons who were drawn up, without giving any intimation to the sufferers, which, perhaps, was merciful, and in a moment all the four were launched into eternity.

The soldiers, for what reason Walter never understood, stretched the bodies all in a straight line on the brae, with their faces upwards, and about a yard distant from one another, and then rode off as fast as they could to get another hunt, as they called it. These four men were afterwards carried by the fugitives, and some country people, and decently interred in Ettrick churchyard. Their graves are all in a row a few paces from the southwest corner of the present church. The goodman of Chapelhope, some years thereafter, erected a headstone over the grave of the unfortunate sufferer whose arm he had broken, which, with its rude sculpture, is to be seen to this day. His name was Walter Biggar. A small heap of stones is raised on the place where they were shot.

The last look which Walter took of the four corpses, as they lay stretched on the brae, with the blood streaming from them, had nearly turned his brain. His heart sunk within him. For years and days they never left his mind's eye, sleeping nor waking. He always thought he saw them lying on the green sloping brae, with their pale visages, blue open lips, clasped hands, and dim stedfast eyes still fixed on the Heavens.

He had heard Clavers and his officers called heroes: He wished those who believed so had been there that day to have judged who were the greatest heroes.

"There! let them take that!" said Captain Bruce, as he mounted his horse.

"Poor misled unfortunate beings!" said Copland, and mounted his.

"Huh! Cot t--n!" said Roy Macpherson, in a voice that seemed to struggle for an outlet; and Walter, to his astonishment, saw a tear glistening on his rough weatherbeaten cheek, as he turned to ride away!

The pursuit continued unabated for the whole of that day. There was a great deal of firing, but the hills of Polmoody were inaccessible to cavalry. There was no more blood shed. They lodged that night at a place called Kippelgill, where they put every thing in requisition about the house, and killed some of the cattle. Clavers was in extremely bad humour, and Walter had no doubt that he once intended to have sacrificed him that night, but seemed to change his mind, after having again examined him. He was very stern, and threatened him with the torture, swearing that he knew him to be the supporter of that nest of miscreants that harboured around him, and that though he should keep him prisoner for a dozen years, he would have it proven on him. Walter made oath that there had never one of them been within his door, consistent with his knowledge; that he had never been at a conventicle; and proffered to take the test, and oath of abjuration, if allowed to do so. All this would not satisfy Clavers. Walter said he wondered at his discernment, for, without the least evil or disloyal intent, he found he had rendered himself liable to punishment, but how he could be aware of that he knew not.

That night Walter was confined in a cowhouse, under the same guard that had conducted him from Chapelhope. The soldiers put his arms round one of the stakes for the cattle, and then screwed on the thumbikins, so that he was fastened to the stake without being much incommoded. When Macpherson came in at a late hour, (for he was obliged likewise to take up his abode in the cowhouse over night), the first word he said was,-

"Cot t--n, she no pe liking to schee an honest shentleman tied up to a stake, as she were peing a poollock."

He then began to lecture Walter on the magnitude of folly it would be in him to run away, "when he took it into consideration that he had a ponny fhamily, and sheeps, and horses, and bheasts, that would all pe maide acchountable."

Walter acknowledged the force of his reasoning; said it was sterling common sense, and that nothing would induce him to attempt such a dangerous experiment as attempting to make his escape. Macpherson then loosed him altogether, and conversed with him until he fell asleep.

Walter asked him, what he thought of his case with the general?

Macpherson shook his head. Walter said there was not the shadow of a proof against him!

"No!" said Macpherson; "py cot's curse but there is! There is very much deal of proof. Was not there my countrymen and scholdiers murdered on your grhounds? Was not there mh.o.r.e scoans, and prochin, and muttons in your house, than would have peen eaten in a mhonth by the fhamily that pelongs to yourself. By the pode more of the auld deal, but there is more proof than would hang twenty poor peheoples."

"That's but sma' comfort, man! But what think ye I should do?"

"Cot t--n, if I know!-Who is it that is your Chief?"

"Chief!-What's that?"

"Tat is te head of te clan-Te pig man of your name and fhamily."

"In troth, man, an' there isna ane o' my name aboon mysel."