Hunted and Harried Read online

kirk or conscience--to which she boldly added that she _had_attended conventicles, and would do so again!

  Having obtained all they wanted, the dragoons went away, leaving the oldwoman among the ruins of her home, for they probably did not consider itworth while carrying off a prisoner who would in all likelihood havedied on the road to prison.

  In the midst of all the noise and confusion it had struck the old womanas strange that they never once asked about her husband. After they hadgone, however, the arrival of two neighbours bearing his dead bodyrevealed the terrible reason. She uttered no cry when they laid hiscorpse on the floor, but sat gazing in horror as if turned to stone.Thus Black and his friends found her.

  She could not be roused to speak, and looked, after a few minutes, likeone who had not realised the truth.

  In this state she was conveyed to Black's cottage and handed over toJean, whom every one seemed intuitively to regard as her naturalcomforter. The poor child led her into her own room, sat down besideher on the bed, laid the aged head on her sympathetic bosom and sobbedas if her heart was breaking. But no response came from the old woman,save that once or twice she looked up feebly and said, "Jean, dear, whatails ye?"

  In the Council Chamber at Edinburgh, Lauderdale, learning on oneoccasion that many persons both high and low had refused to take thebond already referred to, which might well have been styled the bond ofslavery, bared his arm in fury, and, smiting the table with his fist,swore with a terrific oath that he would "force them to take the bond."

  What we have described is a specimen of the manner in which the forcewas sometimes applied. The heartless despot and his clerical coadjutorshad still to learn that tyranny has not yet forged the weapon that canseparate man from his God.

  "What think ye noo?" asked Andrew Black, turning to Wallace with a quietbut stern look, after old Mrs. Mitchell had been carried in, "what thinkye _noo_, lad, o' us Covenanters an' oor lack o' lang-sufferin' an' oordefyin' the laws? Aren't these laws we _ought_ to defy, but havenaproperly defied yet, laws illegally made by a perjured King and anupstart Cooncil?"

  "Mr. Black," said the ex-trooper, seizing his companion's hand with aniron grip, "from this day forward I am with you--heart and soul."

  Little did Wallace think, when he came to this decision, that he hadstill stronger reason for his course of action than he was aware of atthe moment.

  It was night when Mrs. Mitchell was brought into the farm-house, andpreparations were being made for a hasty meal, when Ramblin' Peter camein with the news that a number of people in the Lanarkshire district hadbeen intercommuned and driven from their homes--amongst others DavidSpence, Will Wallace's uncle, with whom his mother had taken up herabode.

  The distracted looks of poor Wallace on hearing this showed the powerfuleffect the news had upon him.

  "Keep yersel' quiet, noo," said Black in an encouraging tone, as he tookthe youth's arm and led him out of the house. "These are no' times tolet our hearts rin awa wi' oor heids. Yer mither must be looked after;but i' the meantime let me tell ye that yer uncle Daavid is a douce,cliver felly, an' fears naething i' this warld. If he did, he wadna beamang the intercommuned. Be sure he's no' the man to leave his sisterMaggie in trouble. Of course ye'll be wantin' to be aff to look afterher."

  "Of course--instantly," said Wallace.

  "Na. Ye'll hae yer supper first--an' a guid ain--for ye'll need it.Have patience, noo, an' listen to me, for I'll do the very best I canfor ye in this strait--an' it's no muckle ye can do for yersel' withoothelp."

  There was something so decided yet kindly and reassuring in the farmer'stone and manner that Wallace felt relieved in spite of his anxieties,and submitted to his guidance in all things. Black then explained thathe had a friend in Lanark who owed him money on lambs sold to him theprevious year; that he meant to send his man Quentin Dick first tocollect that money, and then proceed to Edinburgh, for the purpose ofmaking further arrangements there about cattle.

  "Noo," continued Black, "I've gotten a mither as weel as you, an' shelives in the Can'lemaker Raw, close to the Greyfriars' Kirkyaird--wherethey signed the Covenants, ye ken. Weel, I wad advise you to gang toLanark wi' Quentin, an' when ye find yer mither tak' her to Edinbro' an'let her live wi' my mither i' the meantime, till we see what the Lordhas in store for this puir persecuted remnant. I'm sorry to pairt wi'ye, lad, sae unexpectedly, but in thae times, when folk are called on topairt wi' their heids unexpectedly, we mauna compleen."

  "I'll take your advice gladly," said Wallace. "When will Quentin Dickbe ready to start?"

  "In less than an hour. The moon'll be up soon after that. It's o' naeuse startin' on sae dark a nicht till she's up, for ye'll hae to crosssome nasty grund. Noo, lad, though I'm no a minister, my advice to yeis, to gang doon into the hidy-hole an' pray aboot this matter. Nivermind the folk ye find there. They're used to prayin'. It's my opeenionthat if there was less preachin' an' mair prayin', we'd be a' the betterfor 't. It's a thrawn warld we live in, but we're bound to mak' thebest o't."

  Although not much in the habit of engaging in prayer--save at the formalperiods of morning and evening--our ex-trooper was just then in the moodto take his friend's advice. He retired to the place of refuge underBlack's house, where he found several people who had evidently been atthe communion on Skeoch Hill. These were engaged in earnestconversation, and took little notice of him as he entered. The placewas very dimly lighted. One end of the low vaulted chamber was involvedin obscurity. Thither the youth went and knelt down. From infancy hismother had taught him "to say his prayers," and had sought to induce himto pray. It is probable that the first time he really did so was inthat secret chamber where, in much anxiety of soul, he prayed forherself.

  After a hasty but hearty supper, he and Quentin Dick set out on theirnight journey. They carried nothing with them except two wallets,filled, as Wallace could not help thinking, with a needlessly largeamount of provisions. Of course they were unarmed, for they travelledin the capacity of peaceful drovers, with plaids on their shoulders, andthe usual staves in their hands.

  "One would think we were going to travel for a month in some wilderness,to judge from the weight of our haversacks," observed Wallace, aftertrudging along for some time in silence.

  "Maybe we'll be langer than a month," returned Quentin, "ann thewulderness hereaway is warse than the wulderness that Moses led his folkthrough. They had manna there. Mony o' us hae _naething_ here."

  Quentin Dick spoke with cynicism in his tone, for he was a sternstraightforward man, on whom injustice told with tremendous power, andwho had not yet been taught by adversity to bow his head to man andrestrain his indignation.

  Before Wallace had time to make any rejoinder, something like theappearance of a group of horsemen in front arrested them. They werestill so far distant as to render their tramp inaudible. Indeed theycould not have been seen at all in so dark a night but for the fact thatin passing over the crest of a hill they were for a moment or two dimlydefined against the sky.

  "Dragoons--fowr o' them," muttered Quentin. "We'll step aside here an'let them gang by."

  Clambering up the somewhat rugged side of the road, the two menconcealed themselves among the bushes, intending to wait till thetroopers should pass.

  "What can they be doing in this direction, I wonder?" whispered Wallace.

  "My freend," answered Quentin, "dinna whisper when ye're hidin'. Of a'the sounds for attractin' attention an' revealin' secrets a whisper isthe warst. Speak low, if ye maun speak, but sometimes it's wiser no tospeak ava'. Dootless the sodgers'll be giein' Andrew Black a ca', buthe kens brawly hoo to tak' care o' himsel'."

  When the horseman approached it was seen that they were driving beforethem a boy, or lad, on foot. Evidently they were compelling him to actas their guide.

  "It's Ramblin' Peter they've gotten haud o', as sure as I'm a leevin'man," said the shepherd with a low chuckle; "I'd ken him amang athoosand by the way he rins."

  "Shall we not rescu
e him?" exclaimed Wallace, starting up.

  "Wheesht! keep still, man. Nae fear o' Peter. He'll lead them in amangthe bogs o' some peat-moss or ither, gie them the slip there, an' leavethem to find their way oot."

  Just as the troop trotted past an incident occurred which disconcertedthe hiders not a little. A dog which the soldiers had with them scentedthem, stopped, and after