Hunted and Harried Page 2

o' a rope roond yer thrapple. But losh! man, Iwonder ye haena heard about thae matters afore now."

  "My having spent the last few years of my life in an out-of-the-way partof Ireland may account for that," said Wallace. "My father's recentdeath obliged my mother to give up her farm and return to her nativetown of Lanark, where she now lives with a brother. Poverty and theurgency of a cousin have induced me, unfortunately, to take service withthe dragoons."

  "After what ye've said, hoo am I to coont on yer helpin' me e'noo?"asked Glendinning.

  "As long as I wear the King's uniform you may count on my obeying ordersunless I am commanded to break the plainest laws of God," answered theyoung man. "As our present business is only to discover the cottage ofAndrew Black, there seems likely to be no difficulty between us justnow."

  "H'm! I'm no' sure o' that; but if ye'll tak' my advice, lad, ye'llhaud yer tongue aboot thae matters. If Clavers heard the half o' whatye've said to me, he'd send ye into the next warl' withoot gieing yetime to say yer prayers. Freedom of speech is no permitted at thepresent time in Scotland--unless it be the right kind of speech, and--"

  He stopped, for at that moment two young girls suddenly appeared at abend of the road in front of them. They gazed for a moment at thesoldiers in evident surprise, and then turned as if to fly, butGlendinning put spurs to his horse and was beside them in a moment.Leaping to the ground, he seized the girls roughly by their arms as theyclung together in alarm. One of the two was a dark-eyed little child.The other was fair, unusually pretty, and apparently about fifteen orsixteen years of age.

  The trooper proceeded to question them sharply.

  "Be gentle," said Will Wallace sternly, as he rode up, and, alsodismounting, stood beside them. "No fear of their running away now."

  The swarthy trooper pretended not to hear, but nevertheless relaxed hisgrip and merely rested his hand upon the fair girl's shoulder as he saidto the other--

  "Now, my wee doo, ye canna be far frae hame, I's be sworn. What's yername?"

  "Aggie Wilson," answered the child at once.

  "And yours?"

  "Jean Black," replied the blonde timidly.

  "Oho! an' yer faither's name is Andrew, an' his hoose is close by, I'llbe bound, so ye'll be guid eneuch to show us the way till't. But first,my bonny lass, ye'll gie me a--"

  Slipping his arm round the waist of the terrified blonde, the trooperrudely attempted to terminate his sentence in a practical manner; butbefore his lips could touch her face he received a blow from his comradethat sent him staggering against a neighbouring tree.

  Blazing with astonishment and wrath, Glendinning drew his sword andsprang at his companion, who, already full of indignation at the memoryof what he had been so recently compelled to witness, could ill brookthe indignity thus offered to the defenceless girl. His weapon flashedfrom its sheath on the instant, and for a few moments the two men cutand thrust at each other with savage ferocity. Wallace, however, wastoo young and unused to mortal strife to contemplate with indifferencethe possibility of shedding the blood of a comrade. Quickly recoveringhimself, he stood entirely on the defensive, which his vigorous activityenabled him easily to do. Burning under the insult he had received,Glendinning felt no such compunctions. He pushed his adversaryfiercely, and made a lunge at last which not only passed the swordthrough the left sleeve of the youth's coat, but slightly wounded hisarm. Roused to uncontrollable anger by this, Will Wallace fetched hisopponent a blow so powerful that it beat down his guard, rang like ahammer on his iron headpiece, and fairly hurled the man into the ditchat the roadside.

  Somewhat alarmed at this sudden result, the youth hastily pulled himout, and, kneeling beside him, anxiously examined his head. Much to hisrelief he found that there was no wound at all, and that the man wasonly stunned. After the examination, Wallace observed that the girlshad taken advantage of the fray to make their escape.

  Indignation and anger having by that time evaporated, and his judgmenthaving become cool, Wallace began gradually to appreciate his trueposition, and to feel exceedingly uncomfortable. He had recklesslyexpressed opinions and confessed to actions which would of themselvesensure his being disgraced and cast into prison, if not worse; he hadalmost killed one of his own comrades, and had helped two girls toescape who could probably have assisted in the accomplishment of theduty on which they had been despatched. His case, he suddenlyperceived, was hopeless, and he felt that he was a lost man.

  Will Wallace was quick of thought and prompt in action. Carefullydisposing the limbs of his fallen comrade, and resting his headcomfortably on a grassy bank, he cast a hurried glance around him.

  On his left hand and behind him lay the rich belt of woodland thatmarked the courses of the rivers Cluden and Cairn. In front stretchedthe moors and hills of the ancient district of Galloway, at that timegiven over to the tender mercies of Graham of Claverhouse. Beside himstood the two patient troop-horses, gazing quietly at the prostrate man,as if in mild surprise at his unusual stillness.

  Beyond this he could not see with the physical eye; but with the mentalorb he saw a dark vista of ruined character, blighted hopes, and dismalprospects. The vision sufficed to fix his decision. Quietly, like awarrior's wraith, he sheathed his sword and betook himself to the covertof the peat-morass and the heather hill.

  He was not the first good man and true who had sought the same shelter.

  At the time of which we write Scotland had for many years been in awoeful plight--with tyranny draining her life-blood, cupidity graspingher wealth, hypocrisy and bigotry misconstruing her motives andfalsifying her character. Charles the Second filled the throne.Unprincipled men, alike in Church and State, made use of their positionand power to gain their own ends and enslave the people. The King,determined to root out Presbytery from Scotland, as less subservient tohis despotic aims, and forcibly to impose Prelacy on her as astepping-stone to Popery, had no difficulty in finding ecclesiasticaland courtly bravos to carry out his designs; and for a long series ofdismal years persecution stalked red-handed through the land.

  Happily for the well-being of future generations, our covenantingforefathers stood their ground with Christian heroism, for both civiland religious liberty were involved in the struggle. Their so-calledfanaticism consisted in a refusal to give up the worship of God afterthe manner dictated by conscience and practised by their forefathers; indeclining to attend the ministry of the ignorant, and too often vicious,curates forced upon them; and in refusing to take the oath of allegiancejust referred to by Will Wallace.

  Conventicles, as they were called--or the gathering together ofChristians in houses and barns, or on the hillsides, to worship God--were illegally pronounced illegal by the King and Council; anddisobedience to the tyrannous law was punished with imprisonment,torture, confiscation of property, and death. To enforce thesepenalties the greater part of Scotland--especially the south and west--was overrun by troops, and treated as if it were a conquered country.The people--holding that in some matters it is incumbent to "obey Godrather than man," and that they were bound "not to forsake theassembling of themselves together"--resolved to set the intolerable lawat defiance, and went armed to the hill-meetings.

  They took up arms at first, however, chiefly, if not solely, to protectthemselves from a licentious soldiery, who went about devastating theland, not scrupling to rob and insult helpless women and children, andto shed innocent blood. Our Scottish forefathers, believing--in commonwith the lower animals and lowest savages--that it was a duty to defendtheir females and little ones, naturally availed themselves of the bestmeans of doing so.

  About this time a meeting, or conventicle, of considerable importancewas appointed to be held among the secluded hills in the neighbourhoodof Irongray; and Andrew Black, the farmer, was chosen to select theparticular spot, and make the preliminary arrangements.

  Now this man Black is not easily described, for his was a curiouslycompound character. To a heart saturated with the milk of humankindness wa
s united a will more inflexible, if possible, than that of aMexican mule; a frame of Herculean mould, and a spirit in which profoundgravity and reverence waged incessant warfare with a keen appreciationof the ludicrous. Peacefully inclined in disposition, with a tendencyto believe well of all men, and somewhat free and easy in the formationof his opinions, he was very unwilling to resist authority; but the loveof truth and justice was stronger within him than the love of peace.

  In company with his shepherd, Quentin Dick--a man of nearly his own sizeand build--Andrew Black proceeded to a secluded hollow in Skeoch Hill togather and place in order the masses of rock which were to form theseats of the communicants at the contemplated religious gathering--whichseats remain to this day in the position they occupied at that time, andare