i 
 
 i
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 y^R^^^Jl^ 
 
 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS
 
 THE MEN OF THE 
 MOSS-HAGS 
 
 BEING A HISTORY OF ADVENTURE 
 TAKEN FROM THE PAPERS 
 OF WILLIAM GORDON OF 
 EARLSTOUN IN GALLOWAY 
 AND TOLD OVER AGAIN BY 
 
 S. R. CROCKETT 
 
 LONDON 
 ISBISTER AND COMPANY Ltd. 
 
 15 TAVISTOCK STREET COVENT GARDEN 
 MDCCCXCV
 
 Printed by Bam.antyne, Hanson 6f Co 
 At the Bailantyne Press
 
 To 
 
 ANDREW LANG, 
 
 Poet, Romancer, Scholar, and Friend, 
 
 of the goodly fellowship of the White Rose, 
 
 I, born of the Hill- Folk, 
 
 dedicate this attempt at a true history of 
 
 some zv ho fought bravely beneath 
 
 the 'Banner of Blue
 
 TREFATORY OiOTE 
 
 I desire to express grateful thanks to my re- 
 searchers, Mr. James Nicholson of Kircudbright, 
 who examined on my behalf all the local records 
 bearing upon the period and upon the persons 
 treated of in this book; and to the Reverend John 
 Anderson of the Edinburgh University Library, 
 mho brought to light from among the Earlstoun 
 Papers and from the long-lost records of the 
 United Societies, many of the materials which 
 I have used in the zuriting of this story. 
 
 I owe also tnuch gratitude to the Library 
 Committee of the University of Edinburgh, for 
 permission to use the letters which are printed 
 in the text, and for their larger . permission to 
 'publish at some future time, for purposes more 
 strictly historical, a selection from both the sets 
 of manuscripts named above.
 
 8 PREFATORY NOTE 
 
 Most of all, I am indebted to my friend, 
 Mr. John McMillan of Glenhead in Galloway^ 
 who has not only given me in this, as in former 
 works, the benefit of his unrivalled local know- 
 ledge, hut has travelled with me many a weary 
 foot over those moors and moss-hags, ivhere the 
 wanderers of another time had their abiding 
 places. Let him accept this word of thanks. 
 He is not likely to forget our stay together in the 
 wilds of Cove Macaterick. Nor J our journey 
 home. 
 
 S. R. CROCKETT. 
 
 Penicuik, Jug. 5, 1895.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I. MY GOSSIP, MAISIE MAY 
 
 II. GAY GARLAND CARRIES DOUBLE 
 
 III. GAY GARLAND COMES HOME SADDLE EMPTY 
 
 IV. SANDY GORDON COMES OVER THE HILL ALL 
 
 ALONE 
 
 V. THE CLASH OF WORDS . 
 
 VI. THE CLASH OF SWORDS 
 
 VII. THE FIELD OF BOTHWELL BRIG 
 
 VHI. THE CURATE OF DALRY 
 
 IX. THROUGH death's DARK VALE 
 
 X. THE GRAVE IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 XI. THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS 
 
 XII. WE RIDE TO EDINBURGH 
 
 XIII. WULLCAT WAT DARES HEAVEN AND HELL 
 
 XIV. THE THING THAT FELL FROM TRAITOr's GATE 
 XV. THE BICKER IN THE SNOW ... 
 
 XVI. THE GREY MOWDIEWOR.T 
 
 XVII. OVER THE MUIR AMANG THE HEATHER . 
 
 XVIII. AULD ANTON OF THE DUCHRAE 
 
 XIX. THE SWEET SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 
 
 XX. THE HOME OF MY LOVE 
 
 XXI, THE GREAT CONVENTICLE BY THE DEE WATER 
 
 XXII. PEDEN THE PROPHET . 
 
 XXIII. BIRSAY THE COBBLER . 
 
 PAGE 
 II 
 
 i8 
 26 
 
 33 
 39 
 
 45 
 
 50 
 S8 
 
 75 
 82 
 
 88 
 
 9+ 
 102 
 
 108 
 
 113 
 
 118 
 
 124 
 130 
 
 H3 
 149 
 
 156 
 
 163
 
 lo CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XXIV. THE SANQUHAR DECLARATION . . . I75 
 
 XXV. THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS . . . 183 
 
 XXVI. HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT . . . I94 
 
 XXVII. THE WATER OF THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM . 2O4 
 
 XXVIII. THE WELL-HOUSE OF EARLSTOUN . . . 2IO 
 
 XXIX. CUPBOARD LOVE . . . . • ^^S 
 
 XXX. THE BULL OF EARLSTOUn's HOMECOMING . 2 20 
 
 XXXI. jean's wa's ...... 228 
 
 XXXII. PLAIN WORDS UPON MEN . . . -233 
 
 XXXIII. THE GARDENER OF BALMAGHIE . . .239 
 
 XXXIV. THE TESTING OF THE TYKE . . .245 
 XXXV. KATE OF THE DARK BROWS . . . 25I 
 
 XXXVI. THE BLACK HORSE COMES TO BALMAGHIE . 257 
 
 XXXVII. A cavalier's WOOING . . . .264 
 
 XXXVIII. IN COVE MACATERICK , . . . 27I 
 
 XXXIX. THE BOWER OF THE STAR .... 277 
 
 XL. MARDROCHAT THE SPY . . . .284 
 
 XLI. THE HOUSE OF THE BLACK CATS . . . 29I 
 
 XLII. THE NICK o' THE DEID WIFE . . . 298 
 
 XLIII. THE VENGEANCE OF " YON "... 304 
 
 XLIV. A DESIRABLE GENERAL MEETING . . . 3IO 
 
 XLV. THE OXTTFACING OF CLAVERS . . -3^7 
 
 XLVI. THE FIGHT AT THE CALDONS . . • 3^5 
 
 XLVII. THE GALLOWAY FLAIL . . . '333 
 
 XLVIII. THE FIGHT IN THE GUT OF THE ENTERKIN . 34O 
 
 XLIX. THE DEATH OF MARDROCHAT . . . 349 
 
 L. THE BREAKING OF THE THIEVEs' HOLE . . 355 
 
 LI. THE SANDS OF WIGTOWN . . . .364 
 
 LII. THE MADNESS OF THE BULL OF EARLSTOUN . 37 1 
 
 LIII. UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH . . . 37^ 
 
 LIV. ROBBERY ON THE KINg's HIGHWAY . . 3^1 
 
 LV. THE RED MAIDEN ..... 39^ 
 
 LVI. THE MAID ON THE WHITE HORSE . . 397 
 
 FOLLOWETH THE AUTHOr's CONCLUSION . 4O2
 
 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MY GOSSIP, MAISIE MAY 
 
 It was upon the fair green braes that look over the 
 Black Water of Dee near by where it meets the clear 
 Ken, that Maisie May and I played many a morn- 
 ing at Wanderers and King's men. I mind it as it 
 were yesterday, for the dales and holms were pranked 
 out with white hawthorn and broad gowans, and by 
 our woodland hiding-places little frail wildflowers 
 grew, nodding at us as we lay and held our breath. 
 
 Now Maisie Lennox (for that was her proper 
 given name) was my cousin, and had been gossip 
 of mine ever since we came to the age of five years; 
 Sandy, my elder brother, making nothing of me 
 because I was so much younger and he ever hot 
 upon his own desires. Neither, if the truth must be 
 told, did I wear great love upon him at any time. 
 When we fell out, as we did often, he would pursue 
 after me and beat me ; but mostly I clodded him with 
 pebble stones, whereat I had the advantage, being ever 
 straight of eye and sure of aim. Whereas Sandy was
 
 12 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 gleyed* and threw stones like a girl, for all the stoutness 
 of his arm. 
 
 But that is not to say Hke Maisie Lennox, who was 
 Anthony Lennox's daughter, and could throw stones 
 with any one. She lived at the Lesser Duchrae above 
 the Black Water. As for me I lived at Earlstoun on 
 the hillside above the Ken, which is a far step from 
 the Duchrae. But our fathers were of the one way of 
 thinking, and being cousins by some former alliance 
 and friends of an ancient kindliness, it so happened, as 
 I say, that Maisie Lennox and I played much together. 
 Also my mother had great tenderness of heart for the 
 bit lass that had no mother, and a father as often on 
 the moors with the wildfowl, as at home with his one 
 little maid. 
 
 For the times were very evil. How evil and con- 
 trary they were, we that had been born since 1660 and 
 knew nothing else, could but dimly understand. For 
 though fear and unrest abode in our homes as constant 
 indwellers, with the fear of the troopers and plunderers, 
 yet because it had always been so, it seemed not very 
 hard to us. Indeed we bairns of these years played at 
 Covenanting, as it had been the game of " Scots and 
 English " oil the hillside, even from the time when we 
 first began to run alone. 
 
 Well do I mind that day when I pleaded and fleeched 
 on my father to take mc before him on Gay Garland, 
 as he rode to the Duchrae. It was a brisk May day 
 with an air vigorous as a draught of wine, yet cool, 
 clear, and sweet as spring water is — a pearl of a day, 
 such as hardly seems to come in these sullen later years. 
 
 So I cried out upon my father to take me. And as 
 
 * Could not see straight.
 
 MY GOSSIP, MATSIE MAY 13 
 
 his manner was, he told me to inquire of my mother. 
 But I desired rather that he should ask for me himself. 
 So I lingered about the doors till he should ride forth 
 upon his great black horse, that he might catch me up 
 beside him on the cantle and cry in at the door, 
 "Mother, I am taking William," as was his kindly 
 wont. Never a man so brave and true and simple as 
 my father. 
 
 While I bided there, Alexander my brother seeing 
 me wait, called me to come with him to the hill. But 
 because my heart was set to ride to the Duchrae with 
 my father, I had no desire to go to the rabbit hunting. 
 So when he saw that I would not company with him, 
 he mocked me and called me " Lassie-boy ! " Where- 
 upon I smote him incontinent with a round pebble 
 between the shoulder-blades, and he pursued me to the 
 hallan door within which was my mother, looking to 
 the maids and the ordering of the house. 
 
 From thence I mocked him, but under my breath, 
 for fear that for ill-doing my mother would not permit 
 me to go to the Duchrae. 
 
 " Stable-boy ! " I called him, for he loved to be ever 
 among the lowns of the wisp and currying comb, and 
 as my mother said, grew like them even in manners. 
 " Faugh, keep wide from me, mixen-varlet ! " 
 
 These were no more than our well-accustomed 
 greetings. 
 
 "Wait till I catch you, little snipe, down by the 
 waterside ! " Sandy cried, shaking his fist at me from 
 the barn-end. 
 
 " And that will be a good day for your skin," an- 
 swered I, " for I shall make you wash your face 
 thoroughly — ay, even behind your ears." 
 
 For Sandy, even when in after days he went a-
 
 14 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 courting, was noways partial to having many comings 
 and goings with a basin of cold water. 
 
 So he departed unsatisfied, because that in words I 
 had the better of him. 
 
 Then came my father, and as I expected, stooping 
 from the saddle he swung me up before him, supposing 
 that I had already advised my mother. But indeed I 
 had not said so, and happily he asked me nothing. 
 
 " A good day and an easy mind, sweetheart," he 
 cried up the stairs to my mother, " I ride to the 
 Duchrae for Conference. William goes with me for 
 company." 
 
 And my mother came down the steps to see us ride 
 ofF. For my father and she were like lad and lass after 
 their years together, though not so as to make a show 
 before strangers. 
 
 " Watch warily for the dragoons as you come to the 
 narrows of the Loch," she said, "and bide not at 
 Kenmuir. For if there be mounted muskets in all the 
 neighbourhood, it is at the Kenmuir that they will be 
 found." 
 
 And she watched us out of sight with her hand to 
 her brows, before turning inward to the maids — a 
 bonny woman in these years, fair as a blowing rose, 
 was my mother. Or at least, so the picture rises 
 before me as I write. 
 
 Thus my father, William Gordon of Earlstoun, rode 
 away through these sweet holms and winding paths 
 south toward the Duchrae. Nowhere is the world to 
 my thinking so gracious as between the green wood- 
 lands of Earlstoun and the grey Duchrae Craigs. 
 For the pools of the water of Ken slept, now black, 
 now silver, beneath us. They were deep set about 
 with the feathers of the birches, and had the green firs
 
 MY GOSSIP, MAISIE MAY 15 
 
 standing bravely like men-at-arms on every rocky 
 knoll. Then the strath opened out and we saw Ken 
 flow silver-clear between the greenest and floweriest 
 banks in the world. The Black Craig of Dee 
 gloomed on our right side as we rode, sulky with last 
 year's heather. And the great Kells range sank behind 
 us, ridge behind ridge of hills whose very names make 
 a storm of music — Millyea, Milldown, Millfire, Cor- 
 scrine, and the haunted fastnesses of the Meaull of 
 Garryhorn in the head end of Carsphairn. Not that my 
 father saw any of this, for he minded only his riding 
 and his prayers ; but even then I was ever taken up 
 with what I had better have let alone. However, I 
 may be held excused if the memory rises unbidden now 
 before the dimmer eye of one that takes a cast back 
 into his^'outh, telling the tale as best he may, choosing 
 here and there like a dorty child, only that which 
 liketh him best. 
 
 In a little we clattered through the well-thatched 
 roofs of New Galloway and set Gay Garland's head 
 to the southward along the waterside, where the levels 
 of the Loch are wont to open out upon you blue and 
 broad and bonny. All that go that way know the 
 place. Gay Garland was the name of my father's 
 black horse that many a time and oft had carried him 
 in safety, and was loved like another child by my mother 
 and all of us. I have heard it said that in the Praying 
 Society of which he was a grave and consistent member, 
 my father was once called in question because he gave 
 so light a name to his beast. 
 
 " Ye have wives of your own," was all the answer 
 he made them, " I suppose they have no freits and 
 fancies, but such as you are ready to be answerable for 
 this day."
 
 i6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 When my mother heard of this she said, " Ay, 
 WilHam, thy excuse was but old and lame, even that 
 of our first father Adam — 'The woman thou gavest 
 me she called my horse ' Gay Garland.' " 
 
 I suppose that to-day Ken flashes as clear and the 
 heather blooms as bonny on the Bennan side. But 
 not for me, for I have laid away so many that I loved 
 in the howe of the Glen since then, and seen so many 
 places of this Scotland red with a crimson the bell heather 
 never made. Ay me for the times that were, and for 
 all that is come and gone, whereof it shall be mine to 
 tell! 
 
 But we came at long and last to the Duchrae, which 
 is a sweet bit house, sitting on a south-looking braeface, 
 though not a laird's castle like the tower of Earlstoun. 
 Maisie Lennox met us at the loaning foot, whereat I 
 begged that my father would put me down so that I 
 might run barefoot with her. And I think my father 
 was in nowise unwilling, for a twelve-year-old callant 
 on the saddle before one is no comfort, though Gay 
 Garland bore me like a feather. 
 
 So Maisie Lennox and I fell eagerly a-talking 
 together after our first shy chill of silence, having many 
 things to say. But as soon as ever we reached the 
 Craigs we fell to our fantasy. It was an old game with 
 us, like the sand houses we used to build in bairns' play. 
 We drew lots, long stalk and short stalk, which of us 
 should be the Wanderer. Maisie Lennox won the 
 lot — as she always did, for I had no good fortune at 
 the drawing of cuts. So she went to hide in some 
 bosky bouroch or moss-hag, while I bode still among 
 the hazels at the woodside, accoutring myself as a 
 trooper with sword and pistol of tree. 
 
 Then I rode forth crying loud commands and send-
 
 MY GOSSIP, MAISIE MAY 17 
 
 ing my soldiers to seek out all the hidie-holes by the 
 water-sides, and under all the tussocks of heather on 
 the benty brows of the black mosses. 
 
 Soon Maisie Lennox began to cry after the manner 
 of the hunted hill-folk — peeping like the nestlings of 
 the muir-birds, craiking like the bird of the corn, 
 laughing like the jack-snipe — and all with so clear a 
 note and such brisk assurance that I declare she had 
 imposed upon Tom Dalyell himself. 
 
 After seeking long in vain, I spied the fugitive 
 hiding behind a peat-casting on the edge of the moss, 
 and immediately cried on the men to shoot. So those 
 that were men-at-arms of my command pursued after 
 and cracked muskets, as the Wanderers jooked and 
 fled before us. Yet cumbered with cavalry as I was 
 on the soft bog land, the light-foot enemy easily escaped 
 me. 
 
 Then when I saw well that catch her I could not, 
 I sat me down on a heather bush and cried out to her 
 that it was a silly game to play, and that we should 
 begin something else. So she stopped and came back 
 slowly over the heather. What I liked at all times 
 about Maisie Lennox was that she never taunted back, 
 but only took her own way when she wanted it — and 
 she mostly did — silently and as if there were no other 
 way in the world. For in all things she had an 
 excellent humour of silence, which, though I knew it 
 not then, is rarer and worthier than diamonds. Also 
 she knew, what it seems to me that a woman but 
 rarely knows, when it is worth while making a stand 
 to gain her will. 
 
 8
 
 CHAPTER 11 
 
 GAY GAP.LAND CARRIES DOUBLE 
 
 So after that we . played yet another game, hiding 
 together in the ha2;s and crawHnff from bent bush to 
 
 o o o 
 
 rush clump with mighty caution and discernment, 
 making believe that the troopers sought us both. For 
 this was the favourite bairns' play everywhere in the 
 West and South. 
 
 Once when we came near to the house Gay Gar- 
 land followed us, havino- been turned out on the 
 Duchrae home park. He ran to me, as he ever did, 
 for farings, and I fed him with crumblings out of my 
 jacket pocket — " moolings " Maisie Lennox called 
 them — v/hich he ate out of my hand, a pretty thing 
 to see in so noble a beast. Then he followed us 
 about in our hidings, begging and sorning upon us 
 for more. This made him not a little troublesome, 
 till we would gladly have sent him back. But Gay 
 Garland was a beast not easily turned. 
 
 After a while we came to the little wood of Mount 
 Pleasant, v/here I saw some red rags fluttering on a 
 bush. I was for going aside to see what they might 
 be, but Maisie Lennox cried at me to turn back. 
 
 *' There are people hereabouts that are not very 
 chancy. My father saw the Marshalls go by this 
 morning ! " 
 
 Often and often I had heard or the tribe before, 
 and they had a singular name for their ill-done deeds.
 
 GAY GARLAND CARRIES DOUBLE 19 
 
 Indeed, the whole land was so overrun with beggars of 
 the Strong Hand, and the times so unsettled, that 
 nothing could be done to put a stop to their spoilings. 
 For the King and- his men were too busy riding 
 down poor folk that carried Bibles and went to field- 
 preachings, to pay attention to such as merely invaded 
 homesteads and lifted gear. 
 
 As we set breast to the brae and came to the top of 
 the little hill, I stumbled over something white and 
 soft lying behind a heather bush. It was a sheep — 
 dead, and with much of it rent ind carried away. 
 The ground about was all a-lapper v/ith blood. 
 
 " A worrying dog has done this ! " I said. 
 
 But Maisie Lennox came up, and as she caught 
 sight of the carcass her face fell. She shook her head 
 mighty seriously. 
 
 " Two-footed dogs," she said. " See here I " She 
 lifted a piece of paper on which a bloody knife had 
 been wiped. And she showed me, very wisely, how 
 the best parts had been cut away by some one that 
 had skill in dismemberment. 
 
 " 'Tis Jock Marshall's band," she said j " an ill lot, 
 but they shall not get off with this ! " 
 
 And she went forward eagerly, keeping on the 
 broad trail through the grass. We had not gone a 
 hundred yards when we came upon another sheep in 
 like case, and then by the ford of the Black Water we 
 found yet another. I asked Maisie Lennox if we should 
 not go home and lodge information. 
 
 " They'll get ower far away," was all she said. 
 
 "But you are not feared of them ? " I asked, mar- 
 velling at the lassie. For even our Sandy that counted 
 himself so bold, and could lift a bullock slung in a 
 sheet with his teeth, would have had thought twice
 
 20 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 before following up Jock Marshall and his band for the 
 sake of an orra sheep or two. 
 
 But Maisie Lennox only turned to me in a curious 
 way, in which there seemed mingled something of 
 contempt. 
 
 " Feared ! " she said. " What for should I be 
 feared ? The sheep are my faither's j but gang you 
 back gin ye be feared." 
 
 So for very shame I answered that I was feared 
 none — which was a great lie, for I had given a 
 hundred pounds (Scots) to have been able to turn 
 back with some credit. But we went along the bread 
 trail boldly enough, and Gay Garland trotted loose- 
 foot after us, sometimes stopping to crop the herbs by 
 the way, and anon coming dancing to find us. At which 
 I was glad, for it was at least some company besides 
 the lassie. 
 
 Soon we came to a link of the path by the water- 
 side, at a place that is called the Tinklers' Loup, where 
 these sorners and limmers were mostly wont to con- 
 gregate. There was blue smoke rising behind the 
 knowe, and Maisie Lennox took a straight path over 
 the heather toward it. I wondered to see the lass. 
 She seemed indeed not to know fear. 
 
 "They are my faither's ain sheep," she said, as 
 though that were sufficient explanation. 
 
 So to the top we came, and looked down. There 
 was a whole camp beneath us. Dirty low reeky tans 
 were set here and there amid a swarm of bairns and 
 dogs. The children were running naked as they were 
 born, and the dogs turning themsehes into hoops to 
 bite their tails. About a couple of fires with pots 
 a-swing over them, bubbling and steaming, little clouds 
 of wild-looking folk were gathered. Some had bones
 
 GAY GARLAND CARRIES DOUBLE 21 
 
 in their hands which they thrust into the fire for a 
 minute and then took out again to gnaw at the burned 
 portion. Tattered women looked within the pots. 
 Once a man threw a knife at a boy, which struck him 
 on the side. The boy cried out and the blood ran 
 down, but none took any heed to his complaint or of 
 the circumstance. 
 
 For a moment Maisie Lennox stood still and looked 
 at me. Then she went a step or two forward, and 
 her face was white and angered. I saw she was about 
 to speak to them, yet for my life I could not keep her 
 from it. 
 
 " Sheep stealers ! " she cried ; " vagabonds, ye shall 
 hang for this ! Not for naught shall ye harry an 
 honest man's sheep. I ken you, Jock Marshall and all 
 your crew. The Shirra shall hear of this before the 
 morrow's morn ! " 
 
 The encampment stood still at gaze looking up at 
 us, fixed like a show painted on a screen, while one 
 might slowly count a score. Then Babel brake loose. 
 
 With a wild rush, man, woman, child, and dog 
 poured towards us. Of mere instinct I came up 
 abreast of Maisie Lennox. Behind me came Gay 
 Garland, and snufFed over my shoulder, scenting with 
 some suspicion the tinklers' garrons* feeding in the 
 hollow below. 
 
 We two stood so still on the knowe-top that, I think, 
 we must have feared them a little. We were by a 
 gap in the bushes, and the ill-doers seeing no more of 
 us thought, no doubt, that there must be more behind, 
 or two bairns had never been so bold. I think, too, 
 that the very want of arms daunted them, for they 
 
 * Shaggy ponies.
 
 22 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 drew back and seemed to consult together as though 
 uncertain what to do. 
 
 Then a great scant-bearded unkempt man with long 
 swinging arms, whom I took to be Jock Marshall, the 
 chief tinkler and captain of their gang, pointed to them 
 to scatter round the little knoll, no doubt with the 
 purpose of making observations and cutting us off. 
 " Who may you be ? " he cried, looking up at us. 
 " Right well you know," Maisie said, very loud and 
 clear, speaking out like a minister in the tent at a field- 
 preaching ; " I am Anton Lennox of the Duchrae's 
 daughter, whose sheep ye have boiling in your pots — 
 and that after being well served with meal at the door, 
 and louting low for thankfulness. And this is your 
 thanks, ye robbers-behind-backs, gallov/s thieves of 
 Kelton Hill." 
 
 On my part I thought it was not good judgment 
 so to anger the wild crew. But Maisie was not to 
 be spoken to at such a time ; so perforce I held my 
 tongue. 
 
 " But ye shall all streek a tow for this," she said ; 
 " this day's wark shall be heard tell o' yet ! " 
 
 By this time the word had been passed round the hill 
 to Jock the tinkler that there were but two of us, and 
 we unarmed. At which the loon became at once very 
 bold. 
 
 " Have at them I Blood their throats ! Bring the 
 basin ! " he cried. And the words were no vain 
 things, for that was their well-accustomed way of 
 killing — to let their victim's blood run into a basin, so 
 that there might be no tell-tale stains upon the grass. 
 
 So from all sides they came speeling and clambering 
 up the hill, loons yelling, dogs barking, till I thought 
 my latest hour was come, and wished I had learned
 
 GAY GARLAND CARRIES DOUBLE 23 
 
 my Catechism better — especially the proofs. Gay 
 Garland stood by with a raised look upon him, lifting 
 his feet a little, as though going daintily over a bridge 
 whose strength he was not sure of, and drawing all 
 the while the wind upward through his nostrils. 
 
 Then though Maisie had been very bold, I can lay 
 claim on this occasion to having been the wiser. For 
 I caught her by the arm, taking Gay Garland's mane 
 firmly with the other hand the while, lest he should 
 startle and flee. 
 
 " Up with you," I cried, bending to take her foot 
 in my hand, and she went up Hke a bird. 
 
 In a moment I was beside her, riding bare-back, 
 with Maisie clasping my waist, as indeed we had often 
 ridden before — though never so perilously, nor yet with 
 such a currish retinue yowling at our tail. 
 
 I wore no weapon upon me — no, not so much as a 
 bodkin. But stuck in my leather belt I had the two 
 crooked sticks, which I had blackened with soot for 
 pistols at our play of Troopers and Wanderers. I put 
 my heels into Gay Garland's sides, and he started down- 
 hill, making the turf fly from his hoofs as he gathered 
 way and began to feel his legs under him. 
 
 The gang scattered and rounded to close us in, but 
 when Gay Garland came to his stride, few there were 
 who could overtake him. Only Jock Marshall himself 
 was in time to meet us face to face, a great knife in 
 either hand. And I think he might have done us an 
 injury too, had it not been for the nature of the ground 
 where we met. 
 
 It was just at the spring of a little hill and the good 
 horse was gathering himself for the upstretch. I held 
 the two curved sticks at the tinkler's head, as though 
 they had been pistols, at which I think he was a little
 
 24 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 daunted. Jock Marshall stopped in his rush, uncertain 
 whether to leap aside ; and in that very moment, Gay 
 Garland spread his fore-feet for the spring, throwing 
 up his head as if to clear the way. One of his iron- 
 shod heels took the tinkler chief fair on the chest, and 
 the breast-bone gave inwards with a crunch like the 
 breaking of many farles of cake-bread. He fell down 
 on the moss like one dead, and Gay Garland went 
 over the moor with the whole tribe of whooping 
 savages after him, spurning their fallen chief with his 
 hoof as he passed. 
 
 Well it was for us that the noble horse carried us 
 with such ease and that his feet were so sure. For a 
 stumble in a rabbit hole and our throats were as good 
 as slit. 
 
 But by the blessing of Providence and also by ray 
 good guiding of Gay Garland's mane, we passed the 
 ford of the Black Water without hurt. Then was I 
 very croose at the manner of our coming ofF, and 
 minded not that the hardest blafF of downcome is ever 
 gotten at the doorstep. 
 
 We were passing by the path that goes linking 
 along the water-side, and talking to one another very 
 cantily, when without warning a musket barked from 
 the woodside, and as it were a red-hot gaud of iron ran 
 into my thigh behind my knee. The world swayed 
 round me and the green trees ran withershins about. 
 I had fallen among the horse's feet, but that Maisie 
 Lennox caught me, meeting Gay Garland's swerve 
 with the grip of her knee — for she ever rode across 
 and acrop like a King's horseman, till it was time for 
 her to ride side-saddle and grow mim and prudent. 
 
 Haply just by the turn we met my father and old 
 Anthony Lennox coming running at the sound of the
 
 GAY GARLAND CARRIES DOUBLE 25 
 
 shot. But as for me I never saw or heard them, for 
 they ran past, hot to find the man who had fired at 
 me. While as for me I came up the loaning of the 
 Duchrae upon Gay Garland, with my head leaning 
 back upon the young lassie's shoulder and the red blood 
 staining her white skirt. 
 
 And this was the beginning or my lameness and 
 sometime lack of vigour — the beginning also of my life 
 friendship with Maisie Lennox, who was to me from 
 that day as my brother and my comrade, though she had 
 been but a bairn's playmate aforetime.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 GAY GARLAND COMES HOME SADDLE EMPTY 
 
 The night of the twenty-second of June, 1679, shall 
 never be forgotten among us v/hile Earlstoun House 
 stands. It was the eve of the dav whereon befell the 
 weary leaguer of Bothwell when the enemy beset the 
 Brig, and the good Blue Banner gat fyled and reddened 
 with other dye-stuff than the brown moss-water. I 
 mind it well, for I had grown to be man-muckle since 
 the day on the Tinklers' Loup. After a day of heat 
 there fell a night like pitch. A soughing wind went 
 round the house and round the house, whispering and 
 groping, like a forlorn ghost trying to find his way 
 within. 
 
 If there was a shut eve in the great House of Earls- 
 toun that night, it was neither mine nor my mother's. 
 We lay and thought of them that were over the hill, 
 striving for the Other King and the good cause. And 
 our thoughts were prayers, though there was none to 
 "take the Book" in Earlstoun that night, for I was 
 never gifted that way. So we bedded without sound 
 of singing or voice of prayer, though I think Jean 
 Hamilton had done it for the asking. 
 
 I lay in my naked bed and listened all the night 
 with unshut eye. I could hear in my mother's room 
 the boards creak as she rose every quarter hour and 
 looked out into the rayless dark. A'laisie Lennox of 
 the Duchrae, old Anton's daughter, now a well-grown
 
 GAY GARLAND COMES HOME 27 
 
 lass, lay with her. And Sandy's young wife, Jean 
 Hamilton, with her sucking bairn, v/as in the little 
 angled chamber that opens off the turret stair near by. 
 
 It befell at the back of one, or mayhap betwixt that 
 and two, that there came a sound at the nether door 
 that affrighted us all. 
 
 " Rise, William ! Haste ye," cried my mother 
 with great eagerness in her voice, coming to my door 
 in the dark. " Your father is at the nether door, new 
 lichted doon from off Gay Garland. Rise an' let him 
 
 m!" 
 
 And as I sat up on my elbow and hearkened, I 
 heard as clearly as now I hear the clock strike, the 
 knocking of my father's riding-boots on the step of 
 the outer door. For it was ever his v/ont, when he 
 came that way, to knap his toes on the edge of the 
 step, that the room floorings might not be defiled 
 with the black peat soil which is commonest about the 
 Earlstoun. I have heard my father tell it a thousand 
 times in his pleasantry, how it was when my mother 
 was a bride but newly come home and notionate, that 
 she learned him these tricks. For otherwise his ways 
 were not dainty, but rather careless — and it might be, 
 
 even rough 
 
 So, as I listened, I heard very clear outside the 
 house the knocking of my father's feet, and the little 
 hoast he always gave before he tirled at the pin to be 
 let in, when he rode home late from Kirkcudbright. 
 Hearing which we were greatly rejoiced, and I hasted 
 to draw on my knee-breeks, crying " Bide a wee, 
 faither, an' briskly I'll be wi'ye to let ye in ! " 
 
 For I v/as a little lame, halting on one foot ever 
 since the affair of Tinkler Marshall, though I think 
 not to any noticeable extent.
 
 28 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 My mother at the door of her chamber cried, 
 *' Haste ye, William, or I must run mysel' ! " 
 
 For my father had made her promise that she would 
 not go out of her chamber to meet him at the return, 
 being easily touched in her breast with the night air. 
 
 So I hasted and ran down as I was, with my points 
 all untied, and set wide open the door. 
 
 " Faither ! " I cried as I undid the bolt and pushed 
 the leaves of the door abroad, " Faither, ye are welcome 
 hame ! " And I could hear my mother listening 
 above, for his foot over the threshold. Yet he came 
 not within, which was a wonder to me. So I went 
 out upon the step of the nether door, but my father 
 was not there. Only the same strange chill wind 
 went round the house, soughing and moaning blindly 
 as before, and a smoor of white fog blew like muirburn 
 past the door. 
 
 Then my hair rose upon my head and the skin of 
 my brow pricked, because I knew that strange portents 
 were abroad that night. 
 
 " What for does your faither no come ben the hoose 
 to me ? " cried my mother impatiently from the stair- 
 head. I could hear her clasping and unclasping her 
 hands, for my ears are quick at taking sounds. 
 
 "I think he must be gone to the stable with Gay 
 Garland, to stall him beside Philiphaugh," I answered, 
 for so my father's old white horse was named, because 
 in his young days my father had been at that place on 
 the day when Montrose and his Highlandmen got 
 their settling. This is what I said to my mother, but 
 indeed my thought was far other. 
 
 I lifted a loaded pistol that lay ever in the aumrie by 
 the door-cheek and went off in the direction of the 
 stable. The door was shut, but I undid the pin and
 
 GAY GARLAND COMES HOME sy 
 
 went within. My father was not there. The horses 
 were moving restlessly and lifting their feet uneasily 
 as they do on ice or other kittle footing. Then of a 
 truth I knew there was something more than canny 
 abroad about Earlstoun that night, and that we should 
 hear ill news or the morning. And when a bundle of 
 reins slipped from the shelf and fell on my shoulder 
 like a man's hand clapping on me unaware, I cried out 
 like a frighted fowl and dropped almost to the ground. 
 Yet though I am delicate and not overly well grown 
 in my body, I do not count myself a coward ; even 
 though my brother Sandy's courage be not mine. 
 " Blind-eye, hard-head " was ever his sort, but I love 
 to take my danger open-eyed and standing up — and as 
 little of it as possible. 
 
 As I went back — which I did instantly, leaving the 
 stable door swinging open — I heard my mother's voice 
 again. She was calling aloud and the sound of her voice 
 was yearning and full like that of a young woman. 
 
 « William ! " she called, and again « William ! " 
 
 Now though that is my name I knew full well that 
 it was not to me, her son, that she called. For that is 
 the voice a woman only uses to him who has been her 
 man, and with her has drunk of the fountain of the 
 joy of youth. Once on a time I shot an eagle on the 
 Millyea, and his mate came and called him even thus, 
 with a voice that was as soft as that of a cushie dove 
 crooning in the tall trees in the early summer, till I 
 could have wept for sorrow at my deed. 
 
 Then as I went in, I came upon my mother a 
 step or two from the open door, groping with her arms 
 wide in the darkness. 
 
 " Oh," she cried, " William, my William, the Lord 
 be thankit ! " and she clasped me to her heart.
 
 30 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 But in a moment she flung me from her. 
 
 " Oh ! it's you," she said bitterly, and went within 
 without another word, her harshness jangling on my 
 heart. 
 
 Yet I understood, for my mother v/as always greatly 
 set on my father. And once when in jest we teased her 
 to try her, telling her the story of the pious i^neas, 
 and asking her to prophesy to us which one of us she 
 would lift, if so it was that the house of Earlstoun were 
 in a lowe. 
 
 " Faith," said my mother, " I wad tak' your faither on 
 my back, gin a' the lave o' ye had to bide and burn I " 
 
 So it was ever with my mother. She was my father's 
 sweetheart to her latest hour. 
 
 But when I went in I found her sitting, sheet-white 
 and trembling on the settle. 
 
 " What's ta'en ye, mither ? " I said to her, putting 
 a shav/1 about her. 
 
 " O my man, my bonny man," she said, " there's 
 nane to steek your e'en the nicht ! An' Mary Gordon 
 maun lie her leesome lane for evermair ! " 
 
 " Hoot, mither," I said, "speak not so. My faither 
 will come his ways hame i' the mornin' nae doot, wi 
 a' the lads o' the Kcnside clatterin' ahint him. Sandy 
 is wi' him, ye ken." 
 
 " Na," she said calmly enough, but as one who has 
 other informations, " Sandy is no wi' him. Sandy 
 gaed through the battle wi' his heid doon and his sword 
 rinnin' reed. I see them a' broken — a' the pride o' 
 the West, an' the dragoons are riding here an' there 
 amang them, an' haggin' them doon. But your faither 
 I canna see — I canna see my man " 
 
 "Mither," I said, mostly, I think, for something to 
 say, « Mind the Guid Cause ) "
 
 GAY GARLAND COMES HOME 31 
 
 She flung her hands abroad with a fine gesture as of 
 scorn. "What cause is guid that twines a woman 
 frae her ain man — an' we hid been thegither three- 
 an'-thirty year ! " 
 
 In a little I got her to lie down, but the most simple 
 may understand how much more sleep there was in 
 Earlstoun that night. Yet though we listened with 
 all our ears, wc heard no other sound than just that 
 blind and unkindly wind reestling and soughing about 
 the house, groping at the doors and trying the lattices. 
 Not a footstep went across the courtyard, not the cry 
 of a bird came over the moors, till behind the barren 
 ridges of the east the morning broke. 
 
 Then when in the grey and growing light I went 
 down and again opened the door, lo ! there with hio 
 nose against the latchet hasp was Gay Garland, my 
 father's war-horse. He stood and trembled in every 
 limb. He was covered with the lair of the moss-hags, 
 wherein he had sunk to the girths. But on his saddle 
 leather, tovv'ards the left side, there was a broad splash 
 of blood which had run down to the stirrup iron ; and 
 in the holster on that side, where the great pistol ought 
 to have been, a thing yet more fearsome — a man's 
 bloody forefinger, taken off above the second joint 
 with a clean drav/ing cut. 
 
 My mother cam.e down the turret stair, fully dressed, 
 and with her company gown upon her. Yet when 
 she saw Gay Garland standing there at the door with 
 his head between his knees, she did not seem to be 
 astonished or afraid, as she had been during the night. 
 She came near to him and laid a hand on his neck. 
 
 " Puir beast," she said, "ye have had sore travel. 
 Take him to the stable for water and corn, and bid 
 Jock o' the Garpel rise."
 
 St THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 The dark shades of the night were flown away, and 
 my mother now spoke quietly and firmly as was her 
 wont. Much in times bygone had we spoken about 
 sufferings in the House of Earlstoun, and, lo ! now 
 they were come home to our own door. 

 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SANDY GORDON COMES OVER THE HILL 
 ALL ALONE 
 
 The House of Earlstoun sits bonny above the water- 
 side, and there are few fairer waters in this land than 
 the Ken water. Also it looks its bonniest in the 
 early morning when the dew is on all sides, and a 
 stillness like the peace of God lies on the place. I do 
 not expect the Kingdom of Heaven very much to 
 surpass Earlstoun on a Sabbath morning in June when 
 the bees are in the roses. And, indeed, I shall be well 
 content with that. 
 
 But there was no peace in Earlstoun that morning 
 — no, nor for m.any a morning to come. I was at the 
 door watching for their coming, before ever a grouse 
 cock stirred among the short brown heather on the 
 side of Ardoch Hill. I told my mother over and over 
 that without doubt Sandy was bringing father home. 
 
 " Gay Garland was aye a reesty beast ! " I said. 
 " Doubtless he started when my faither had his foot 
 in the stirrup, and has come hame by himsel' ! " 
 
 But I said nothing about the finger in the holster. 
 
 "Anither beast micht," said my mother, looking 
 wistfully from the little window on the stair, from 
 which she did not stir, " but never Gay Garland ! " 
 
 And right well I knew she spake the truth. Gay 
 Garland had carried my father over long to reest with 
 him at the hinder-end. 
 
 c
 
 34- THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Can yc no see them ? " cried my mother again, 
 from the room where ordinarily she sat. 
 
 Even Jean Hamilton, who had been but three years 
 a wife, was not as restless that fair morning of mid- 
 summer as my mother, for she had her babe at her 
 breast. In which she was the happier, because when 
 he cried, at least she had something to think about. 
 
 Three weeks before, in the midst of the sunny days 
 of that noble June, my father, William Gordon of 
 Airds and Earlstoun, and my elder brother Alexander 
 had ridden away to fight against. King Charles. It 
 took a long arm in those days to strive with the 
 Stuarts. And as I saw them ride over the brae with 
 thirty Glenkens blue bonnets at their tail, I knew 
 that I was looking upon the beginning of the ruin of 
 our house. Yet I went and hid my face and raged, 
 because I was not permitted to ride along with them, 
 nor to carry the Banner of Blue which my mother 
 the Lady of Earlstoun, and Jean Hamilton, Sandy's 
 wife, had broidered for them — with words that stirred 
 the heart lettered fair upon it in threads of gold, and 
 an Andrew's cross of white laid on the bonny blue of 
 its folds. 
 
 My mother would have added an open Bible on the 
 division beneath, but my father forbade. 
 
 "A sword, gin ye like, but no Bible I " he said. 
 
 So they rode away, and I, that was called William 
 Gordon for my father, clenched hands and wept be- 
 cause that I was not counted worthy to ride with 
 them. But I was never strong, ever since Maisie 
 Lennox and I rode home from the Tinklers' Loup ; 
 and my mother said always that she had more trouble at 
 the rearing of me than with all her cleckin'. By which 
 she meant, as one might say, her brood of chickens.
 
 SANDY COMES OVER THE HILL 35 
 
 To me my father cried as he rode out of the 
 yard : 
 
 " Abide, William, and look to your mother — and see 
 that the beasts get their fodder, for you are the master 
 of Earlstoun till I return," 
 
 " An' ye can help Jean to sew her bairn-clouts ! " 
 cried my brother Sandy, whom we called the Bull, in 
 that great voice of his which could cry from Ardoch 
 to Lochinvar over leagues of heather. 
 
 And I, who heard him with the water standing in 
 my eyes because they were going out in their war- 
 gear, while I had to bide at home, — could have clouted 
 him with a stone as he sat his horse, smiling and 
 shaving the back of his hand v/ith his Andrea Ferrara 
 to try its edge. 
 
 O well ken I that he was a great fighter and Covenant 
 man, and did ten times greater things than I, an ill- 
 grown crowl, can ever lay my name to. But never- 
 theless, such was the hatred I felt at the time towards 
 him, being my brother and thus flouting me. 
 
 But with us, as I have said, there abode our cousin 
 Maisie Lennox from the Duchrae, grown now into a 
 douce and sonsy lass, with hair that was like spun gold 
 when the sun shone upon it. For the rest, her face 
 rather wanted colour, not having in it — by reason of 
 her anxiety for her father, and it may be also by the 
 nature of her complexion — so much of red as the faces 
 of Jean Hamilton and other of our country lasses. But 
 because she was my comrade, I saw nought awanting, 
 nor thought of red or pale, since she was indeed Maisie 
 Lennox and my friend and gossip of these many years. 
 
 Also in some sort she had become a companion for 
 my mother, for she had a sedate and dependable way 
 with her, Golate and wise beyond her years.
 
 ^6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " She is not like a flichty young body aboot a hoose," 
 said my mother. 
 
 But in this I differed, yet said nothing. For no 
 one could have been to me what young Maisie of the 
 Duchrae was. 
 
 After Sandy and my father had ridden away, and I 
 that was left to keep the house, went about with a 
 hanging head because I had not ridden also, Maisie 
 Lennox grew more than ordinarily kind. Never had 
 a feckless lad like me, such a friend as Maisie of the 
 Duchrae. It was far beyond that love which the maids 
 chatter about, and run out to the stackyard in the 
 gloaming to find — oft to their sorrow, poor silly hempies. 
 
 Yet Maisie May and I greeted in the morning 
 without observance, but rather as brothers whom night 
 has not parted. In the day we spoke but seldom, 
 save to ask what might be needful, as the day's darg 
 and duty drifted us together. But at even, stand- 
 ing silent, we watched the light fade from the 
 the hills of the west and gather behind those of the 
 east. And I knew that without speech her heart was 
 trying to comfort mine, because I had not been 
 judged worthy to ride for the Covenants with her 
 father and mine, and in especial because Sandy had 
 openly flouted me before her. This was very precious 
 to me and kept up my manhood in mine own eyes 
 — a service far above rubies. 
 
 Thus they rode away and left the house of the 
 Earlstoun as empty and unfriendly as a barn in hay 
 harvest. From that day forward we spent as much 
 time looking out over the moor from the house, as we 
 did at our appointed tasks. I have already told of the 
 happenings of the night of the twenty-second of June, 
 and of my mother's strange behaviour — which, indeed.
 
 SANDY COMES OVER TME MTLL 37 
 
 was very far from her wont. For she seldom showed 
 her heart to my father, but rather faulted him and kept 
 him at a stick's end, especially when he came heed- 
 lessly into her clean-swept rooms with his great moss- 
 splashed riding-boots. 
 
 Of this time I have one thing more to tell. It 
 was between the hours of ten and eleven on the 
 day following this strange night, that my mother, 
 having set all her house maidens to their tasks with 
 her ordinary care and discretion, took down the bake- 
 board and hung the girdle above a clear red fire of peat. 
 Sometimes she did this herself, especially when my 
 father was from home. For she was a master baker, 
 and my father often vowed that he would have her 
 made the deacon of the trade in Dumfries, where he 
 had a house. He was indeed mortallv fond of her 
 girdle-cakes, and had wheaten flour ground fine at a 
 distant mill for the purpose of making them. 
 
 " Mary Hope," he used to say to her in his daffing 
 way, " your scones are better than your father's law. 
 I wonder wha learned ye to bake aboot Craigieha' — 
 the', I grant, mony's the puir man the faither o' ye 
 has keepit braw and het on a girdle, while he stirred 
 him aboot wi' his tongue." 
 
 This he said because my mother was a daughter of 
 my Lord Hope of Cragiehall, who had been President 
 of the Court of Session in his time, and a very notable 
 great man in the State. 
 
 So, as I say, this day she set to the baking early, 
 and it went to my heart when I saw she was making 
 the wheaten cakes raised with sour buttermilk that 
 were my father's favourites. 
 
 She had not been at it long before in came Jock o' 
 the Garpel, hot-foot from the hill.
 
 38 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Alaister Alexander ! " he cried, panting and 
 broken-winded with haste, "Maister Alexander is 
 comin' ower the Brae ! " 
 
 There was silence in the wide kitchen for a 
 moment, only the sound of my mother's roller being 
 heard, "dunt-dunting " on the dough. 
 
 " Is he by his lane ? " asked my mother without 
 raising her head from the bake-board. 
 
 " Ay," said Jock o' the Garpel, " a' by his lane. 
 No a man rides ahint him." 
 
 And again there was silence in the wide house of 
 Earlstoun. 
 
 My mother went to the girdle to turn the wheaten 
 cakes that were my father's favourites, and as she bent 
 over the fire, there was a sound as if rain-drops were 
 falling and birsling upon the hot girdle. But it was 
 only the v/ater running down my mother's cheeks for 
 the love of her youth, because now her last hope was 
 fairly gone. 
 
 Then in the middle of her turning she drew the girdle 
 ofF the fire, not hastily, but with care and composedness. 
 
 " I'll bake nae mair," she cried, " Sandy has come 
 ower the hill his lane ! " 
 
 And I caught my mother in my arms.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE CLASH OF WORDS 
 
 A DOUBTFUL dawn had grown into a chosen day when 
 I saddled in Earlstoun courtyard, to ride past the house 
 of our kinswoman at Lochinvar on a sad and heavy 
 errand. Sandy has betaken himself to his great oak on 
 the border of the policies, where with his skill in forest 
 craft he had built himself a platform among the solidest 
 masses of the leaves. There he abode during the day, 
 with a watch set on the Tod Hill and another on the 
 White Hill above the wood of Barskeoch. Only at 
 the even, when all things were quiet, would he venture 
 to slip down and mix with us about the fire. But he 
 swung himself swiftly back again to his tree by a rope, 
 if any of the dragoons were to be heard of in the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 During all this time it comes back to me how much 
 we grew to depend on Maisie Lennox. From being 
 but " Anton Lennox's dochter " she came to be 
 " Meysie, lass " to my mother, and indeed almost a 
 daughter to her. Once, going to the chamber-door 
 at night to cry ben some message to my mother, I was 
 started and afraid to hear the sound of sobbing within 
 —as of one crying like a young lass or a bairn, exceed- 
 ingly painful to hear. I thought that it had been 
 Maisie speaking of her sorrow, and my mother com- 
 forting her. But when I listened, though indeed that
 
 40 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 was not my custom, I perceived that it was my mother 
 who grat and refused to be comforted. 
 
 " O my WiUiam ! " she cried, moaning like a child 
 that would sob itself to sleep, " I ken, O I ken, I shall 
 never see him mair. He's lyin' cauld and still at the 
 dyke back that yince my airms keepit fast. O thae 
 weary Covenants, thae weary, weary Covenants ! " 
 
 " Hush thee, my dawtie, say not so ! " I heard the 
 voice of my cousin Maisie — I could not help but hear 
 it, "the Lord calls us to do little for Him oursels, 
 for we are feckless women, an' what can we do ? But 
 He bids us gie Him our men-folk, the desire o' our 
 hearts. Brithers hae I gie'n, twa and three, and my 
 last is my father that Hes noo amang the moss-hags, as 
 ye ken ! " 
 
 But again I heard my mother's voice breaking 
 through in a querulous anger. 
 
 "What ken ye, lassie ? Brithers and faither, guids 
 and gear, they arena muckle to lose. Ye never lost 
 the man for wha's sake ye left faither an' mither, only 
 just to follow him through the warl' ! " 
 
 And in the darkness I could hear my mother wail, 
 and Maisie the young lass hushing and clapping her. 
 So, shamed and shaken at heart, I stole away a-tiptoe 
 lest any should hear me, for it was like a crime to listen 
 to what I had heard. But I am forgetting to tell of 
 our riding away. 
 
 It was a morning so buoyant that we seemed verily 
 upborne by the flood of sunlight, like the small birds that 
 glided and sang in our Earlstoun woods. Yet I had 
 small time to think of the beauty of the summer-tide, 
 when our father lay unburied at a dyke back, and 
 some one must ride and lay him reverently in the earth. 
 
 Sandy could not go — that was plain. He was now
 
 THE CLASH OF WORDS ja 
 
 r ■ 
 
 head of the house and name. Besides the pursuit was 
 hot upon him. So at my mother's word, I took a pair 
 of decent serving men and wended my way over the 
 hill. And as I went my heart was sore for my mother, 
 who stood at the door to see us go. She had suppHed 
 with her own hands all the decent wrappings where- 
 with to bury my father. Sandy further judged it not 
 prudent to attempt to bring him home. He had 
 gotten a staw of the red soldiers, he said, and wished 
 for that time to see no more of them. 
 
 But I that had seen none of them, was hot upon 
 bringing my father to the door to lie among his kin. 
 
 " The driving is like to be brisk enough without 
 that ! " said Sandy. 
 
 And my mother never said a word, for now Sandy 
 was the laird, and the head of the house. She even 
 offered to give up the keys to Jean Hamilton, my 
 brother's wife. But for all her peevishness Jean Hamil- 
 ton knew her place, and put aside her hand kindly. 
 
 " No, mother," she said. " These be yours so long as 
 it pleases God to keep you in the House of Earlstoun." 
 
 For which I shall ever owe Jean Hamilton a good 
 word and kindly thought. 
 
 The names of the two men that went with me 
 were Hugh Kerr and John Meiklewood. They were 
 both decent men with families of their own, and had 
 been excused from following my father and brother on 
 that account. 
 
 Now as we went up the hill a sound followed us 
 that made us turn and listen. It was a sweet and 
 charming noise of singing. There, at the door of 
 Earlstoun, were my mother and her maidens, gathered 
 to bid us farewell upon our sad journey. It made a 
 solemn melody on the caller morning air, for it was
 
 4-2 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 the sound of the burying psalm, and they sang it 
 sweetly. So up the Deuch Water we rode, the little 
 birds making a choir about us, and young tailless 
 thrushes of the year's nesting pulling at reluctant 
 worms on the short dewy knowes. All this I saw 
 and more. For the Lord that made me weak of 
 arm, at least, did not stint me as to glegness of eye. 
 
 When we came to where the burn wimples down 
 from Garryhorn, we found a picket of the King's 
 dragoons drawn across the road, who challenged us 
 and made us to stand. Their commander was one 
 Cornet Inglis, a rough and roystering blade. They 
 were in hold at Garryhorn, a hill farm-town belong- 
 ing to Grier of Lag, whence they could command all 
 the head-end of the Kells. 
 
 " Where away so briskly ? " the Cornet cried, as 
 we came riding up the road. "Where away, Whigs, 
 without the leave of the King and Peter Inglis ? " 
 
 I told him civilly that I rode to Carsphairn to do 
 my needs. 
 
 "And what need may you have in Carsphairn, 
 that you cannot fit in Saint John's Clachan of Dairy 
 as well, and a deal nearer to your hand ? " 
 
 I told him that I v/ent to bury my father. 
 
 " Ay," he said, cocking his head quickly aslant 
 like a questing cat that listens at a mouse-hole ; " and 
 of what quick complaint do fathers die under every 
 green tree on the road to Bothwell ? Who might the 
 father of yoi be, if ye happen to be so wise as to ken ? " 
 
 "My father's name was Gordon," I said, with much 
 quietness of manner — for, circumstanced as I was, I 
 could none other. 
 
 Cornet Inglis laughed a loud vacant laugh when 
 I told him my father's name, v/hich indeed was no
 
 THE CLASH OF WORDS 43 
 
 name to laugh at when he that owned it was alive. 
 Neither Peter Inglis nor yet his uncle had laughed in 
 the face of William Gordon of Earlstoun — ay, though 
 they had been riding forth with a troop behind them. 
 
 " Gordon," quoth he, " Gordon — a man canna spit 
 in the Glenkens withoot sploiting on a Gordon — and 
 every Jack o' them a can tin' rebel ! " 
 
 " You lie, Peter Inglis — lie in your throat ! " cried 
 a voice from the hillside, quick as an echo. Inglis, 
 who had been hectoring it hand on hip, turned at the 
 word. His black brows drew together and his hand 
 fell slowly till it rested on his sword-hilt. He who 
 spoke so boldly was a lad of twenty, straight as a lance 
 shaft is straight, who rode slowly down from the 
 Garryhorn to join us on the main road where the 
 picket was posted. 
 
 It v/as my cousin and kinsman, Wat Gordon of 
 Lochinvar — a spark of mettle, who in the hour of 
 choosing paths had stood for the King and the mother 
 of him (who was a Douglas of Morton) against the 
 sterner way of his father and forebears. 
 
 The Wild-cat of Lochinvar they called him, and 
 the name fitted him like his laced coat. 
 
 For Wullcat Wat of Lochinvar was the gayest, 
 brightest, most reckless blade in the world. And even 
 in days before his father's capture and execution, he had 
 divided the house with him. He had rallied half the 
 retainers, and ridden to Morton Castle to back his uncle 
 there when the King's interest was at its slackest, and 
 when it looked as if the days of little Davie Crookback 
 were coming back again. At Wat Gordon's back there 
 rode always his man-at-arms, John Scarlet, who had 
 been a soldier in France and also in Brandenburg — 
 and who was said to be the greatest master of fence
 
 44 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 and cunning man of weapons in all broad Scotland. 
 But it was rumoured that now John Scarlet had so in- 
 structed his young master that with any weapon, save 
 perhaps the small sword, the young cock could craw 
 crouser than the old upon the same middenstead. 
 
 " I said you lied, Peter Inglis," cried Wullcat Wat, 
 turning back the lace ruffle of his silken cufF, for he 
 was as gay and glancing in his apparel as a crested 
 jay-piet. " Are ye deaf as well as man-sworn ? " 
 
 Inglis stood a moment silent ; then he understood 
 who his enemy was. For indeed it was no Maypole 
 dance to quarrel with Wat of Lochinvar with John 
 Scarlet swaggering behind him. 
 
 " Did you not hear ? I said you lied, man — lied 
 in your throat. Have you aught to say to it, or shall 
 I tell it to Clavers at the table to-night that ye have 
 within you no throat and no man's heart, but only the 
 gullet of a guzzling trencherman ? " 
 
 " I said that the Gordons of the Glenkens were 
 traitors. 'Tis a kenned thing," answered Inglis, at 
 last mustering up his resolution, " but I have no 
 quarrel with you, Wat Gordon, for I know your 
 favour up at Garryhorn — and its cause." 
 
 " Cause " said Wullcat Wat, bending a little 
 
 forward in his saddle and striping one long gauntlet 
 glove lightly through the palm of the other hand, 
 "cause — what knows Peter Inglis of causes? This 
 youth is my cousin of Earlstoun. I answer for him 
 with my life. Let him pass. That is enough of 
 cause for an Inglis to know, when he chances to meet 
 men of an honester name." 
 
 " He is a rebel and a traitor ! " cried Inglis, *' and I 
 shall hold him till I get better authority than yours for 
 letting him go. Hear ye that, Wat of Lochinvar ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE CLASH OF SWORDS 
 
 The two sat fronting one another on their horses. 
 Inglis was the older and more firmly set man. But 
 Wat of Lochinvar was slender and lithe as a bow that 
 has not been often bent and quivers to the straight. 
 It was a curious sight to see them passaging with 
 little airs and graces, like fighting cocks matched in 
 a pit. 
 
 The soldiers stood indifFerently around. A pair of 
 dragoons patrolled, turning and crossing as if on 
 parade, within earshot of the quarrel of their officers. 
 It was the first time I had ever seen what discipline 
 meant. And in a moment I learned why they had 
 broken us at Bothwell and Rullion Green. For 1 have 
 heard my brother Sandy say that at any time in the 
 Covenanting host, had three drawn together and 
 spoken like men that arc hot in questioning, the whole 
 army would have run from their posts to hear and to 
 take part in the controversy. But all the while these 
 dragoons kept their noses pointing in the straight of 
 their necks, and fronted and wheeled like machines. 
 It was, in fact, none of their business if their officers 
 cut each other's throats. But they knew that one John 
 Graham would assuredly make it his business if they 
 omitted their military service. 
 
 " Cornet Inglis," said Lochinvar, doffing lightly his 
 feathered hat that had the King's colours in it, " hearken
 
 46 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 ye well. This is my cousin Will of Earlstoun, who 
 took no part with his kin in the late rebellion, as I 
 took no part with mine, but instead abode at home in 
 peace. I require you to let him go upon his errand. 
 I myself will be answerable for him to Colonel Graham 
 of Claverhouse. A.fter that we can arrange our little 
 matter as to favour and its causes." 
 
 There was a keen leaping light in my cousin Wat's 
 blue eyes, the light that I afterwards grew to know as 
 the delight of battle. He was waxing coldly angry. 
 For me I grow dourly silent as I become angered. 
 My brother Sandy grows red and hot. But WuUcat 
 Wat was of those more dangerous men to whom deadly 
 anger when it comes, at once quickens the pulses and 
 stills the nerves. 
 
 " Think not I am afraid of a traitor's son, or of any of 
 the name of Lochinvar," quoth Inglis, who was indeed 
 no coward when once he had taken up a quarrel ; 
 "after all, ye are all no better than a bow-o'-meal- 
 Gordon ! " 
 
 It was the gage of battle. After that there was no 
 more to be said. To call a man of our name " a bow- 
 o'-meal-Gordon " is equal to saying that he has no 
 right to the name he bears. For it is said that a cer- 
 tain Lochinvar, wanting retainers to ride at his back, 
 offered a snug holding and so many bolls of meal yearly 
 to any lusty youth who would marry on his land, 
 take his name, and set himself like a worthy sworder 
 to breed well-boned loons to carry in their turns the 
 leathern jack. 
 
 At the taunt, swift as flame Wat of Lochinvar rode 
 nearer to his enemy on his quick-turning well- 
 mouthed horse, and drawing the leather gauntlet 
 through his fingers till the fingers were striped narrow
 
 THE CLASH OF SWORDS 47 
 
 like whip lashes, he struck Inglis with it upon the 
 cheek. 
 
 " My father's head," he cried, "may be on the Nether- 
 bow. He had his way of thinking and died for it. I 
 have mine and may die for it in my time. But in the 
 meantime Lochinvar's son is not to be flouted by the 
 son of a man who cried with all parties and hunted 
 with none." 
 
 Two swords flashed into the air together, the 
 relieved scabbards jingling back against the horses' 
 sides. The basket hilt of that of Cornet Inglis had 
 the cavalry tassel swinging to it, while the crossbar 
 and simple Italian guard of Wat Gordon's lighter 
 weapon seemed as if it must instantly be beaten down 
 by the starker weapon of the dragoon. But as they 
 wheeled their horses on guard with a touch of the 
 bridle hand, I saw John Scarlet, Wat's master of fence^ 
 flash a look at his scholar's guard-sword. Wat used 
 an old-fashioned shearing-sword, an ancient blade which, 
 with various hilt devices, many a Gordon of Loch- 
 invar had carried when he ruflled it in court and hall. 
 I caught John Scarlet's look of satisfaction, and judged 
 that he anticipated no danger to one whom he haJ 
 trained, from a fighter at haphazard like Cornet Peter 
 Inglis. But yet the dragoon was no tyro, for he had 
 proved himself in many a hard-stricken fray. 
 
 So without a word they fell to it. And, by my 
 faith, it made a strange picture on the grassy track 
 which wound itself through these wilds, to see the glossy 
 black of Wat Gordon's charger front the heavier 
 weight of the King's man's grey. 
 
 At the first crossing of the swords, the style of the 
 two men was made evident. That of Inr^lis v/as the 
 simpler. He fought most ]ike a practical soldier, with
 
 48 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 the single purpose of making his adversary feel the 
 edge of his weapon ; while Wat, lighter and lither, 
 had all the parade and pomp of the schools. 
 
 Lochinvar depended on a low tierce guard with a 
 sloping point, and reined his horse near, that his enemy 
 might be prevented from closing with him on his left, 
 or side of disadvantage. The dragoon used the simpler 
 hanging guard and pressed upon his adversary with 
 plain dour weight of steel. 
 
 At the first clash of the iron the horses heaved their 
 heads, and down from the hillside above there came a 
 faint crying as of shepherds to their flocks. But the 
 combatants were too intent to take notice. John Scarlet 
 reined his horse at the side, his head a little low set 
 between his shoulders, and his eyes following every 
 thrust and parry with a glance like a rapier. 
 
 For the first five minutes Inglis tried all his powers 
 of battering upon Wat Gordon's lighter guard, his 
 heavy cavalry sword beating and disengaging with the 
 fellest intent. He fought with a still and lip-biting 
 fury. He struck to kill, hammering with strong 
 threshing blows ; Wat, more like a duellist of the 
 schools — rather, as it seemed, to show his mastery of 
 the weapon. But nevertheless the thin supple blade of 
 the young laird followed every beat and lunge of the 
 heavier iron with speed and certainty. Each moment 
 it seemed as if Wat must certainly be cut down. But 
 his black obeyed the rein at the moment of danger, 
 and his sword twisted round that of his adversary as an 
 adder winds itself about a stick. 
 
 More and more angry grew the dragoon, and a 
 grim smile sat intent and watchful on the face of 
 John Scarlet. But he spoke never a word, and the 
 red sentries paced placidly to and fro along the burn-
 
 THE CLASH OF SWORDS 49 
 
 side of Garryhorn. More and more wildly Cornet 
 Inglis struck, urging his horse forward to force 
 Lochinvar's black down the hill. But featly and 
 gracefully the lad wheeled and turned, keeping ever 
 bis hand in tierce and his blade across his body, slipping 
 and parrying with the utmost calm and ease. 
 
 " Click, click ! " came the noise of the clashing 
 sword-blades, flickering so swiftly that the eye could 
 not follow them. In time Lochinvar found out his 
 opponent's disadvantage, which was in the slower 
 movement of his horse, but to this Inglis responded like 
 a man. He kept his beast turning about within his 
 own length, so that come where he would Wat had 
 no advantage. Yet gradually and surely the dragoon 
 was being tired out. From attacking he fell to guard- 
 ing, and at last even his parry grew lifeless and feeble. 
 Wat, on the other hand, kept his enemy's blade con- 
 stantly engaged. He struck with certainty and parried 
 with a light hammering movement that was pretty to 
 watch, even to one who had no skill of the weapon. 
 
 At last, wearied with continual check, Inglis leaned 
 too far over his horse's head in a fierce thrust. The 
 beast slipped with the sudden weight, and the dragoon's 
 steel cap went nearly to his charger's neck. 
 
 In a moment, seeing his disadvantage, Inglis 
 attempted to recover ; but Wat's lighter weapon slid 
 under his guard as he threw his sword hand involun- 
 tarily up. It pierced his shoulder, and a darker red 
 followed the steel upon his horsemen's coat, as Wat 
 withdrew his blade to be ready for the return. But 
 of this there was no need, for Inglis instantly dropped 
 his hand to his side and another sword suddenly struck 
 up that of Wat Gordon, as the dragoon's heavy weapon 
 clattered upon the stones. 
 
 P
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE FIELD OF BOTHWELL BRIG 
 
 "Gentlemen," cried a stern, calm voice, "gentlemen, 
 is it thus that ye amuse yourselves when ye are upon 
 the King's service ? " 
 
 I turned about, and lo ! it was the voice of John 
 Graham of Claverhouse, high-pitched to the carrying 
 note of command — of the man whom all the South and 
 West knew then as the great persecutor, and all the 
 North afterwards as the great captain who stood for his 
 master when all the others forsook him and fled. I admit 
 that my heart beat suddenly feeble before him, and 
 as for my lads who were with me, I think they gave 
 themselves up for dead men. Though slender and not 
 tall, Clavers nevertheless looked noble upon the black 
 horse which had carried him at a gallop down the 
 burnside from Garryhorn. His eyes were full of fire, 
 his bearing of gallantry. Yet methought there was 
 something relentless about the man — something that 
 friend might one day feel the bite of as well as foe. 
 For this was the man who, at his master's word, was 
 now driving Scotland before him as sheep are driven into 
 buchts on the hillside. But Scotland did not easily 
 take to praying according to Act of Parliament, and 
 I minded the witty old gentlewoman's v/ord to Claver- 
 house himself, "Knox didna win his will without 
 clavers, an' aiblins Clavers winna get his withoot 
 knocks." It was a witty saying and a true, and many
 
 THE FIELD OF BOTHWELL BRIG 51 
 
 a day I lay in the moss-hags and wished that I had 
 said it. 
 
 Yet I think we of the Ancient Province never felt 
 so keenly the bitterness of his oppression, though 
 mostly it was without bowels of mercy, as we did the 
 riding and driving of Robert Grier of Lag, of Douglas 
 of Morton, of Queensberry and Drumlanrig, that were 
 of ourselves — familiar at our tables, and ofttimes near 
 kinsmen as well. 
 
 What John Graham did in the way of cess and 
 exaction, and even of shooting and taking, was in 
 some measure what we had taken our count and 
 reckoning with. But that men who knew our out- 
 goings and incomings, our strengths and fastnesses, 
 who had companied with us at kirk and market, should 
 harry us like thieves, made our hearts wondrously hot 
 and angry within us. For years I never prayed with- 
 out making it a petition that I might get a fair chance 
 at Robert Grier — if it were the Lord's will. And 
 indeed it is not yet too late. 
 
 But it was Claverhouse that had come across us 
 now. 
 
 " You would kill more King's men ! " he cried to 
 Wat Gordon ; " you that have come hither to do your 
 best to undo the treason of your forebears. My lad, 
 that is the way to get your head set on the Netherbow 
 beside your father's. Are there no man-sworn Whigs 
 in the West that true men must fall to hacking one 
 another ? " 
 
 He turned upon Inglis as fiercely : 
 
 " Cornet, are you upon duty ? By what right do 
 you fall to brawling with an ally of the country ? 
 Have we overly many of them in this accursed land, 
 where there are more elephants and crocodiles in Whig-
 
 52 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 ridden Galloway than true men on whom the King 
 may rely ? " 
 
 But Inglis said never a word, being pale from the 
 draining of his wound. I looked for him to denounce 
 ' me as a rebel and a spy ; but he was wholly silent, for 
 the man after all was a man. 
 
 " How began ye this brawling ? " quoth Claver- 
 house, looking from one to the other of them, minding 
 me no more than I had been a tripping hedge-sparrow. 
 
 " We had a difference, and cast up our fathers to 
 one another," at last said Inglis, half sullenly. 
 
 " It were best to let fathers a-be when you ride on 
 his Majesty's outpost duty. Cornet Inglis. But you 
 are wounded. Fall out and have your hurt examined." 
 
 "It is a flea-bite," quoth Peter Inglis, stoutly. 
 
 "A man this ! " thought I. For I loved courage. 
 
 Yet nevertheless, he dismounted, and John Scarlet 
 helped him off with his coat upon the short heather of 
 the braeface. 
 
 " And whom may we have here ? " cried Claver- 
 house, as Inglis went stumblingly to the hillside upon 
 the arm of John Scarlet. He turned his fine dark 
 eyes full upon me as he spoke, and I thought that I 
 had never seen any man look so handsome. Yet, for 
 all that, fear of the great enemy of our house and cause 
 sat cold in my vitals. Though I deny not that his 
 surpassing beauty of person took my eye as though I 
 had been a woman — the more perhaps because I had 
 little enough of my own. 
 
 But my kinsman Wat Gordon was no whit dis- 
 mayed. He dusted his silken doublet front, swept his 
 white-feathered hat in the air in reverence, and intro- 
 duced me to the formidable captain as one that has 
 good standing and knows it well ;
 
 THE FIELD OF BOTHWELL BRIG 53 
 
 " My cousin, William Gordon, younger son of the 
 House of Earlstoun ! " 
 
 " Ah," said Claverhouse, smiling upon me not so 
 ill-pleased, " I have heard of him — the home stayer, 
 the nest-egg. He that rode not to Bothwell with ' the 
 Earl'* and *the Bull.' Whither rides he now thus 
 early ? " 
 
 " He rides, Colonel Graham, to bury his father." 
 
 I thought my cousin was too bold thus to blurt out 
 my mission, to the chief of them that had killed him 
 whom I went to seek. But he was wiser than I in 
 this matter. 
 
 Claverhouse smiled, and looked from the one to the 
 other of us. 
 
 " You Gordons have your own troubles to get your 
 fathers buried," he said. " I suppose you will claim 
 that this cub also is a good King's man ? " 
 
 "He is well-afFected, colonel," said Lochinvar 
 gaily ; " and there are none too many likeminded 
 with him in these parts ! " 
 
 " Even the affectation does him monstrous credit," 
 quoth Clavers, clapping Walter on the shoulder ; " it 
 is much for a Gordon in this country to affect such a 
 virtue as loyalty. I wonder," he went on, apparently 
 to himself, "if it would be possible to transplant you 
 Gordons, that are such arrant rebels here and so loyal 
 in the North. It were well for the land if this could be 
 done. In the North a few dozen Whigs would do small 
 harm. Here ten score King's men melled and married 
 would settle the land and keep the King's peace." 
 
 Then he looked at my cousin with a certain un- 
 
 * The Laird of Earlstoun was often called in jest " The 
 Earl."
 
 54 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 common orracious affection that sat well on him — all 
 the more that he showed such a thing but rarely. 
 
 " Well, Wat, for your sake let young Earlstoun go 
 bury his father in peace, an' it likes him. The more 
 Whigs buried the better pleased will John Graham be. 
 If he will only bury his brother also when he is about 
 it, he will rid the earth of a very pestilent fellow ! " 
 
 "There is no great harm in Sandy," returned 
 Lochinvar briskly and easily. From his whole de- 
 meanour I saw that he was in good estimation with 
 Colonel Graham, and was accustomed to talk fami- 
 li-arly with him. 
 
 Perhaps the reason was that Claverhouse found him- 
 self much alone in Galloway. When he ordered a 
 muster of the lairds and the well affected, only Grier 
 of Lag and Fergusson of Craigdarroch came in, and 
 even they brought but few at their back. Then 
 again these rough-riding, hard drinkers of Nithside 
 had little in common with John Graham. But 
 Lochinvar was well trained by his mother, and had been 
 some time about the court. It was, doubtless, a reHef 
 to the high-bred soldier to speak to him after the foul 
 oaths and scurril jests of the country cavaliers. 
 
 "Why," said Claverhouse, "as you say, there is no 
 great harm in Sandy. But yet Sandy hath a stout arm 
 and can lay well about him when it comes to the 
 dunts. Sandy's arm is stronger than Sandy's wit." 
 
 All this time I had not spoken, for so with a look 
 my cousin Lochinvar had warned me to let him speak 
 for me ; but now I broke the silence. 
 
 " I am obliged to you, Colonel Graham," I said, 
 " for your permission to go and bury my dead." 
 
 " Ay," said Claverhouse, with a certain courteous 
 disdain that was natural to him, but which he dropped
 
 THE FIELD OF BOTHWELL BRIG 55 
 
 when he spoke to the young Lochinvar, " ay, you are 
 no doubt greatly obliged to me ; but your father, 
 though a rebel, fought us fairly and deserves clean 
 burial. A Whig is aye best buried at any rate," he 
 continued, gathering up his reins as one that prepares 
 to ride away. 
 
 "Lochinvar," he cried, in his voice of command, 
 " take Cornet Inglis's post and duty, since you have 
 disabled him. But mark me well, let there be no 
 more tullying and brawling, or I shall send you all to 
 bridewell. Hark you, young Wullcat of Lochinvar, I 
 cannot have my officers cut up when they should be 
 hunting Whigs — and" (looking at me) "preparing 
 them for burial." 
 
 I think he saw the hatred in my eyes, when he 
 spoke thus of my father lying stiff at a dyke back, 
 for he lifted his hat to me quaintly as he went. 
 
 " A good journey to you, and a fair return, young 
 Castle Keeper ! " he said with a scorning of his 
 haughty lip. 
 
 Yet I think that he had been greater and worthier 
 had he denied himself that word to a lad on my errand. 
 
 Of our further progress what need that I tell ? 
 Hour after hour I heard the horses' feet ring on the 
 road, dully as though I had been deep under ground 
 myself, and they trampling over mc with a rush. It 
 irked me that it was a fine day and that my men, 
 Hugh Kerr and John Meiklewood, would not cease to 
 speak with me. But all things wear round, and in 
 time we came to the place, where one had told Sandy 
 as he fled that he had seen William Gordon of Earls- 
 toun lie stark and still. 
 
 There indeed we found my father lying where he 
 had fallen in the angle of a great wall, a mile or two
 
 S6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 south of the field of Bothwell. He had no fewer than 
 six wounds from musket balls upon him. As I looked 
 I could see the story of his end written plain for the 
 dullest to read. He had been beset by a party of 
 dragoons in the angle of a great seven-foot march 
 dyke in which there was no break. They summoned 
 him to surrender. He refused, as I knew he would ; 
 and, as his manner was, he had risked all upon a single- 
 handed charge. 
 
 As we heard afterwards, he had come at the 
 troopers with such fury that he killed three and 
 wounded another, besides slaying the horse that lay 
 beside him, before, with a storm of bullets, they 
 stopped him in his charge. Thus died, not un- 
 worthily, even while I was bringing in the kye in the 
 evening at Earlstoun, William Gordon, a father of 
 whom, in life and death, no son need be ashamed. 
 
 And where we found him, there we buried him, 
 wrapping him just as he was, in the shrouds my 
 mother had sent for her well-beloved. Hugh Kerr 
 was for taking his sword out of his hand to keep at 
 home as an heirloom. But I thought no. For his 
 hand was stiffened upon it where the blood had run 
 down his wrist. And besides, it had been his friend 
 while he lived and when he died, and it was hard to 
 part him with that which had been to him as the 
 sword of the Lord and of Gideon. So we buried his 
 sword and him together, laying the little red Bible, 
 stained and spotted with his blood, open upon his 
 breast. Then we happed him up, and I, who could 
 at that time fight but little, put up a short prayer over 
 him — though not, of course, like a minister, or one 
 bred to the trade. And I thought as I rode away that 
 it was better to leave him the sword, than that Sandy
 
 THE FIELD OF BOTHWELL BRIG 57 
 
 should get it to prate about at his general meetings. 
 Even as it was he could not let him be, but in the 
 after days of quiet he must have him up to coffin him, 
 and bury in the kirkyard of Glassford. Yet to do 
 Sandy justice, he had the grace to leave him the sword 
 in his hand. 
 
 Now my father had not fallen on the battlefield 
 itself, but rather when hastening thither. For indeed 
 he never saw the bridge, nor had hand in the guiding 
 of the host, whose blood Robert Hamilton poured out 
 as one that pours good wine upon the ground. 
 
 Yet because we were so near, we risked the matter 
 and rode over to see the narrow passage of the Bridge 
 where they had fought it so stoutly all day long. Here 
 and there lay dead men yet unburied ; but the country- 
 men were gradually putting the poor bodies in the earth. 
 Some of them lay singly, but more in little clusters 
 where they set their backs desperately to one another, 
 and had it out with their pursuers that they might die 
 fighting and not running. Still the pursuit had not 
 been unmerciful, for there were few that had fallen 
 beyond the long avenues of the Palace oaks. 
 
 But when we came to the banks of the river, and 
 looked down upon the bridge-head, we saw the very 
 grass dyed red, where the men had been shot down. 
 And on the braesides where Hamilton had drawn them 
 up when he called them from the bridge-end, they had 
 fallen in swathes like barley. But it was not a heart- 
 some sight, and we turned our rein and rode away, 
 weary and sad within.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE CURATE OF DALRY 
 
 When I returned to Earlstoun I found the house in 
 sad disorder. Maisie Lennox I found not, for she had 
 ridden to the Duchrae to meet her father and to keep 
 the house, which had had some unwonted immunity 
 lately because of the friendship of the McGhies of 
 Balmaghie. For old Roger McGhie was a King's 
 man and in good favour, though he never went far from 
 home. But only patrolled his properties, lundering such 
 Whigs as came in his way with a great staff, but ten- 
 derly withal and mostly for show. His daughter Kate, 
 going the way of most women folk, was the bitterest 
 Whig and most determined hearer of the field- 
 preachers in the parish. Concerning which her father 
 full well knew, but could neither alter nor mend, even 
 as Duke Rothes himself could not change his lady's 
 liking. Yet for Kate McGhie's sake the hunt waxed 
 easier in all the head-end of Balmaghie. And during 
 this lown blink, old Anton came home from the hills 
 to take the comforts of the bien and comfortable house 
 of the Duchrae, for it promised to be a bitter and 
 unkindlv season. So the Earlstoun looked a little bare 
 without Maisie Lennox, and I was glad that I was to 
 be but a short time in it. 
 
 For another thing, the soldiers had been before me, 
 and by order of the Council had turned the whole gear 
 and plenishing over to find my brother Alexander —
 
 THE CURATE OF DALRY 59 
 
 which, indeed, seeing what he had done at Bothwell, 
 wc can hardly wonder at. Even the intervention of 
 our well-afFected cousin of Lochinvar could not pre- 
 vent this. The horses were driven away, the cattle 
 lifted to be provender for the King's forces in the 
 parish of Carsphairn and elsewhere. And it would 
 go hard with us — if indeed we should even be per- 
 mitted to keep the place that had been ours for 
 generations. 
 
 My mother was strongly advised that, as I had not 
 been mixed with the outbreaks, it was just scant possible 
 that I might make something of an appeal to the 
 Privy Council for the continuing of the properties, and 
 the substituting of a fine. I was therefore to ride to 
 Edinburgh with what attendance I could muster, and 
 with Wat Gordon of Lochinvar to lead me as a bairn 
 by the hand. 
 
 But it was with a sad heart and without much 
 pleasure, save in having my father's silver-mounted 
 pistols (for I counted myself no mean marksman), that 
 John Meiklewood, Hughie and I rode ofF from the 
 arched door of the Earlstoun. My mother stood on 
 the step and waved me off with no tear in her eye ; 
 and even poor Jean Hamilton, from the window whence 
 she could see the great oak where my brother, her 
 husband, was in hiding, caused a kerchief to show 
 white against the grey wall of Earlstoun. I think the 
 poor feckless bit thing had a sort of kindness for me. 
 But when there was hardly the thickness of an eggshell 
 between her man and death, it was perhaps small 
 wonder that she cherished some jealousy of me, riding 
 whither I listed over the wide, pleasant moors where 
 the bumble-bees droned and the stooping wild birds 
 cried all the livelong day.
 
 6o THE MEN OF TH£ MOSS-HAGS 
 
 At St. John's Clachan of Dairy we were to meet 
 with Wildcat Wat, who was waiting to ride forth with 
 us to Edinburgh upon his own ploys. We dismounted 
 at the inn where John Barbour, honest man, had put 
 out the sign of his profession. It was a low, well- 
 thatched change-house, sitting with its end to the road 
 in the upper part of the village, with good offices and 
 accommodation for man and horse about it — the same 
 hostel indeed in which the matter of RuUion Green 
 took its beginning. Wat came down the street with 
 his rapier swinging at his side, his feathered Cavalier 
 hat on his head, and he walked with a grace that became 
 him well. I liked the lad, and sometimes it almost 
 seemed to me that I might be his father, though indeed 
 our years were pretty equal. For being lame and 
 not a fighter, neither craving ladies' favours, I was 
 the older man, for the years of them that suffer score 
 the lines deeper on a man's brow — and on his heart 
 also. 
 
 When Wat Gordon mounted into the saddle with 
 an easy spring, his horse bent back its head and cur- 
 vetted, biting at his foot. So that I rejoiced to see the 
 brave lad sitting like a dart, holding his reins as I hold 
 my pen, and resting his other hand easily on his thigh. 
 John Scarlet, his man-at-arms, mounted and rode behind 
 him ; and when I saw them up, methought there was 
 not a pair that could match them in Scotland. Yet 
 I knew that with the pistolets at paces ten or twenty, 
 I was the master of both. And perhaps it was this 
 little scrap of consolation that made me feel so entirely 
 glad to see my cousin look so bright and bonny. In- 
 deed, had I been his lass — or one of them, for if all 
 tales be true he had routh of such — I could not have 
 loved better to see him shine in the company of men
 
 THE CURATE OF DALRY 6i 
 
 like the young god Apollo among the immortals, as 
 the heathens feign. 
 
 At the far end of the village there came one out 
 of a white house and saluted us. I knew him well, 
 though I had never before seen him so near. It was 
 Peter McCaskill, the curate of the parish. But, as we 
 of the strict Covenant did not hear even the Indulged 
 ministers, it was not likely that we would see much of 
 the curate. Nevertheless I had heard many tales of his 
 sayings and his humours, for our curate was not as 
 most others — dull and truculent knaves many of them, 
 according to my thinking — the scourings of the North. 
 Peter was, on the other hand, a most humoursome 
 varlet and excellent company on a wet day. Sandy and 
 he used often to take a bottle together when they 
 foregathered at John's in the Clachan. But even the 
 Bull of Earlstoun could not keep steeks or count 
 mutchkins with Peter McCaskill, the curate of Dairy. 
 
 On this occasion he stopped and greeted us. He 
 had on him a black coat of formal enough cut, turned 
 green with age and exposure to the weather. I 
 warrant it had never been brushed since he had put 
 it on his back, and there seemed good evidence upon 
 it that he had slept in it for a month at least. 
 
 " Whaur gang ye screeving to, young sirs, so 
 brave ? " he cried. " Be canny on the puir Whiggies. 
 Draw your stick across their hurdies when ye come 
 on them, an' tell them to come to the Clachan o' 
 Dairy, where they will hear a better sermon than 
 ever they gat on the muirs, or my name's no Peter 
 McCaskill." 
 
 " How now, curate," began my cousin, reining in 
 his black and sitting at ease, "are you going to take to 
 the hill and put Peden's nose out of joint ? "
 
 62 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Faith, an' it's mv mirher's ain son that could fcttfe 
 that,'' said the Curate. " I'm -wac for the puir \Miig- 
 gies, that winna hear honest doctrine an' 5ee to the 
 hills and hass — ^nesrr, uncanny, cauldrife places that the 
 very muir-fowl winna dock on. Ken tc what I was 
 tcllin' them the ither day ? Na, yell no hae heard — 
 it*s little desire ve hae for either kirk or Covenant, up 
 aboot the Garrrhom wi' red-wud Lag and headstrong 
 John Graham. Ye need as muckle to come and hear 
 Mess John prav as the blackest \Miig o' them a'!" 
 
 "Indeed, we do not trouble you much. Curate," 
 laus-hed mv cousin ; " but here is my cousin Will of 
 Earlstoun," he said, waving his hand to me, " and he 
 is nearly as gtx)d as a parson himself, and can pray by 
 screeds." 
 
 Which was hardly a just thing to say, for though I 
 could pray and read mv Bible too when I listed, I did 
 not trouble him or any other with the matter, Cain, 
 indeed, had something to sav for himself — for it is a 
 hard thing to be made one's brother's keeper. There 
 are manv wavs that may take me to the deviL But, I 
 thank God, offidousness in other men's matters shall 
 not be one of th;m. 
 
 "He pravs, does he?" quoth McCaskill, turning 
 his shaggy e\'ebrows on me. " Aweel, I'll pray him 
 <Kiy day for a glass o' John's best. Peter McCaskill 
 needs neither read sermon nor service-book. He leaves 
 siclike at hame, and the service ye get at his kirk is 
 as s^id and godly, as gin auld Sandy himsel' were 
 stelled up in a preaching tent an' thretty wizzened 
 plaided wives makkin' a whine in the heather aneath ! *' 
 ' " How do you and the other Peter up the way, 
 draw together ? " asked my cousin. 
 The Curate snapped his fingers.
 
 THE CURATE OF DALRY 63 
 
 " Peter Pearson o' Carsphairn — puir craitur, he's 
 juist fair daft wi' his ridin' an' his schemin'. He will 
 hear a plufF o' pouther gang blafF at his oxter some 
 fine day, that he'll be the waur o' ! An* sae I hae 
 telled him mony's the time. But Margate McCaskili's 
 son is neither a Whig hunter nor yet as this daft Peter 
 Pearson. He bides at hame an' minds his glebe. But 
 for a' that I canna control the silly fowk. I was 
 fearin' them the ither day," he went on. " I gied it 
 oot plain frae the pulpit that gin they didna come as 
 far as the kirkyard at ony rate, I wad tak' no more 
 lees on my conscience for their sakes. I hae plenty o' 
 my ain to gar me fry. ' B ut,' says I, ' I'll report ye as 
 attendin' the kirk, gin ye walk frae yae door o' the 
 kirk to the ither withoot rinnin'. Nae man can say 
 fairer nor that.' " 
 
 " An' what said ye next. Curate ? " asked my cousin, 
 for his talk amused us much, and indeed there were 
 few merry things in these sad days. 
 
 " Ow," said Peter McCaskill, « I juist e'en said to 
 them, * Black be your fa'. Ye are a' off to the hills 
 thegither. Hardly a tyke or messan but's awa' to 
 Peden to get her whaulpies named at the Holy Linn ! 
 But I declare to ye a', v/hat will happen in this parish. 
 Sorra gin I dinna inform on ye, an' then ye'll be a' 
 eyther shot or hangit before Yule ! ' That's what I 
 said to them ! " 
 
 Wat Gordon laughed, and I was fain to follow suit, 
 for it was a common complaint that the Curate of 
 Dairy was half a Whig himself. And, indeed, had he 
 not been ever ready to drink a dozen of Clavers' 
 oiEcers under the table, and clout the head of the 
 starkest carle in his troop, it might have gone ill with 
 him more than once.
 
 64 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 "But I hae a bit sma' request to make of ye, 
 Walter Gordon o' Lochinvar an' Gordiestoun," said 
 the Curate. 
 
 " Haste ye," said Wat, " for ye hae taigled us overly 
 long already." 
 
 " An it's this," said the Curate, " I hae to ride to 
 Edinburgh toon, there to tell mair lees than I am 
 likely to be sained o' till I am a bishop an' can lee 
 wi' a leecence. But it's the Privy Council's w^ull, an' 
 sae I maun e'en lee. That tearin' blackguard, Rob 
 Grier, has written to them that I am better affected 
 to the Whigs than to the troopers at Garryhorn, and 
 I am behoved to gang and answer for it." 
 
 " Haste ye, then, and ride with us," cried Walter, 
 whose horse had stood long enough. " We ride to- 
 ward the Nith with Colonel Graham, and after that 
 to Edinburgh." 
 
 So in a little the Curate was riding stoutly by our 
 side. We were to travel by Dumfries and Lockerbie 
 into Eskdale, whither Claverhouse had preceded us, 
 obeying an urgent call from his acquaintance. Sir 
 James Johnstone of Westerhall, who was still more 
 eager to do the King's will than he — though, to begin 
 with, he had been a Covenant man, and that of some 
 mark too. But the fear of fines, and the bad example 
 of his neighbours ever before his eyes, had brought out 
 the hidden cruelty of the man. So now he rode at 
 Claverhouse's bridle-rein, and the pair of them held 
 black counsel on the state of the country. But the 
 mood of Claverhouse was, at worst, only that of mili- 
 tary severity, without heart of ruth or bowels of mercy 
 indeed ; but that of Westerhall was rather of roystering 
 and jubilant brutality, both of action and intent. 
 
 So we rode and we better rode till we came to Esk-
 
 THE CURATE OF DALRY 65 
 
 dale, where we found Westerhall in his own country. 
 Now I could see by the behaviour of the soldiers as 
 we went, that some of them had small goodwill to the 
 kind of life they led. For many of them were of the 
 country-side and, as it seemed, were compelled to drive 
 and harry their own kith and kin. This they covered 
 with a mighty affectation of ease, crying oaths and 
 curses hither and thither tempestuously behind their 
 leaders — save only when John Graham rode near by, 
 a thing which more than anything made them 
 hold their peace, lest for discipline's sake he should 
 bid them be silent, with a look that would chill their 
 marrows.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THROUGH death's DARK VALE 
 
 Now this Eskdale was the Johnstone's own country, 
 and one in which I was noways at home — a country of 
 wide green holms and deep blind " hopes," or hollows 
 among the mountains, where the cloud shadows bide 
 and linger, and whence they come out again to scud 
 swiftly over the hips of the hills. I had been trained 
 to be pleasant and prudent in my conversation, and 
 there was little to take me out of myself in the com- 
 pany I had perforce to keep. Yet I dared not with- 
 draw myself from their train, lest the jealousy of our 
 band, which was latent among the more scurril of 
 them, should break out. So I rode mostly silent, but 
 with a pleased countenance which belied my heart. 
 
 Indeed, had it not been for the good liking which 
 everywhere pursued my cousin Lochinvar, I cannot 
 tell what might have come out of the dislike for us 
 " Glenkens Whiggies," which was their mildest word 
 for us. Yet my man Hugh never said a word, for he 
 was a prudent lad and slow of speech ; while I, being 
 no man of war, also looked well to my words, and let 
 a wary tongue keep my head. As for John Meikle- 
 wood, honest man, he took suddenly one morning 
 what he termed a "sair income in his wame," and 
 leave being scantily asked, he hied him home to his wife 
 and weans at the Mains of Earlstoun. 
 
 Now this was the manner of our march. Claver-
 
 THROUGH DEATH'S DARK VALE 67 
 
 house sent his horse scouring up on the tops of the 
 hills and along the higher grounds, while his foot 
 quartered the lower districts, bringing all such as were 
 in any way suspicious to the kirkyards to be examined. 
 Old and young, men and women alike, were taken ; and 
 often — chiefly, it is true, behind Claverhouse's back — 
 the soldiers were most cruel at the business, making 
 my blood boil, till I thought that I must fly out and 
 strike some of them. I wondered not any longer that 
 my father had taken to the hill, sick to death of the 
 black terror which Charles's men caused daily to fall 
 upon all around them, wherever in Scotland men cared 
 enough about their religion to suffer for it. 
 
 How my cousin Lochinvar stood it I cannot tell. 
 Indeed, I think that but for the teaching of his mother, 
 and the presence of John Scarlet, who at this time was 
 a great King's man and of much influence with Wat 
 Gordon, he had been as much incensed as I. 
 
 One morning in especial I mind well. It was a 
 Tuesday, and our company was under the command 
 of this Johnstone of Westerha', who of all the clan, 
 being a turncoat, was the cruellest and the worst. For 
 the man was in his own country, and among his own 
 kenned faces, his holders and cottiers — so that the 
 slaughter of them was as easy as killing chickens reared 
 by hand. 
 
 And even Claverhouse rather suffered, and shut his 
 eyes to it, than took part in the hard driving. 
 
 " Draw your reins here," the Johnstone would say, 
 as we came to the loaning foot of some little white 
 lime-washed house with a reeking lum. " There are 
 some Bible folk here that wad be none the worse o' a 
 bit ca' ! " 
 
 So he rode up to the poor muirland housie sitting by
 
 6g THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 itself all alone among the red heather. Mostly the folk 
 had marked us come, and often there was no one to be 
 seen, but, as it might be, a bairn or two playing about 
 the green. 
 
 Then he would have these poor bits of things 
 gathered up and begin to fear them, or contrarywise 
 to offer them fair things if only they would tell where 
 their parents were, and who were used to come about 
 the house. 
 
 There is a place, Shieldhill by name, that sits 
 blithely on the braeface at the entering in of Annan- 
 dale. The country thereabouts is not very wild, and 
 there are many cotter houses set about the holms and 
 dotted among the knowes. Westerha' enclosed the 
 whole with a ring of his men, and came upon them as 
 he thought unawares, for he said the place was like a 
 conventicle, and rife with psalm-singers. But he was 
 a wild man when he found the men and women all 
 fled, and only the bairns, as before, feared mostly out 
 of their lives, sitting cowering together by the ingle, 
 or hiding about the byres. 
 
 " I'll fear them waur," said Westerha', as he came to 
 the third house and found as before only two-three 
 weans, " or my name is no James Johnstone." 
 
 So what did this ill-set Johnstone do, but gather 
 them all up into a knot by a great thorn-tree that 
 grows on the slope. This Tuesday morn was clear 
 , and sunny — not bright, but with a kind of diffused 
 light, warm and without shadows, as if the whole arch 
 of the lift were but one sun, yet not so bright as the 
 sun we mostly have. 
 
 There were some thirty bairns by the tree, mostly 
 of Westerha's own name, save those that were Jardines, 
 Grahams, and Charterises, for those are the common
 
 THROUGH DEATH'S DARK VALE 69 
 
 names of that countryside. The children stood to- 
 gether, huddled in a crowd, too frightened to speak or 
 even to cry aloud. And one thing I noticed, that the 
 lassie bairns were stiller and grat not so much as the 
 boys — all save one, who was a laddie of about ten years. 
 He stood with his hands behind his back, and his face 
 was very white ; but he threw back his head and 
 looked the dragoons and Annandale's wild riders fair in 
 the face as one that has conquered fear. 
 
 Then Westerha' rode forward almost to the midst 
 of the cloud of bairns, ' gollering ' and roaring at the 
 bit things to frighten them, as was his custom with 
 such. They were mostly from six to ten years of 
 their age ; and when I saw them thus with their 
 feared white faces, I wished that I had been six foot of 
 my inches, and with twenty good men of the Glen at 
 my back. But I minded that I was but a boy — "stay- 
 at-home John," as Sandy called me — and worth nothing 
 with my hands. So I could only fret and be silent. I 
 looked for my cousin Lochinvar, but he was riding at 
 the Graham's bridle rein, and that day I saw nothing 
 of him. But I v/ondered how this matter of the 
 bairns liked him. 
 
 So Westerha' rode nearer to them, shouting like a 
 shepherd crying down the wind tempestuously, when 
 his dogs are working sourly. 
 
 " Hark ye," he cried, " ill bairns that ye are, ye are 
 all to dee, and that quickly, unless ye answer me what 
 I shall ask of you." 
 
 Then I saw something that I had never seen but 
 among the sheep ; and it was a most pitiful and heart- 
 wringing thing to see, though now in the telling it 
 seems no great matter. There is a time of the year 
 when it is fitting that the lambs should be separated
 
 70 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 from the ewes ; and it ever touches me nearly to see 
 the flock of poor lammies, when first the dogs come 
 near to them to begin the work, and wear them in the 
 direction in which they are to depart. All their little 
 lives the lambs had run to their mothers at the first 
 hint of danger. Now they have no mothers to flee 
 to, and you can see them huddle and pack in a 
 frightened solid bunch, quivering with apprehension, all 
 with their sweet little winsome faces turned one way. 
 Then as the dogs run nearer to start them, there 
 comes from them a little low broken-hearted bleating, 
 as if terror were driving the cry out of them against 
 their wills. Thus it is with the lambs on the hill, 
 and so also it was with the bairns that clung together 
 in a cluster on the braeface. 
 
 A party of soldiers was now drawn out before them, 
 and the young things were bid look into the black 
 muzzles of the muskets. They were indeed loaded only 
 with powder, but the children were not to know that. 
 
 " Now," cried Westerha', " tell me who comes to 
 your houses at night, and who goes away early in the 
 
 mornmg 
 
 I '' 
 
 The children crept closer to one another, but none 
 of them answered. Whereupon Westerha' indicated 
 one with his finger — the lad who stood up so straightly 
 and held his head back. 
 
 " You, young Cock-of-the-heather, what might be 
 your black Whig's name ? " 
 
 *' Juist the same as your honour's — ^James John- 
 stone ! " replied the boy, in no way abashed. 
 
 Methought there ran a titter of laughter among the 
 soldiers, for Westerha' was noways so well liked 
 among the soldiers as Claverhouse or even roaring 
 Grier of Lag.
 
 THROUGH DEATH'S DARK VALE yi 
 
 " And what is your father's name," continued 
 Westerha', bending just one black look upon the lad. 
 
 "James Johnstone ! " yet again replied the boy. 
 
 Back in the ranks some one laughed. 
 
 Westerhall flung an oath over his shoulder. 
 
 " Who was the man who laughed ? I shall teach 
 you to laugh at the Johnstone in his own country ! " 
 
 " It was Jeems Johnstone of Wamphray that 
 laughed, your honour," replied the calm voice of a 
 troop-sergeant. 
 
 Then Westerha' set himself without another word 
 to the work of examination, which suited him well. 
 
 "You will not answer, young rebels," he cried, 
 "ken you what they get that will not speak when 
 the King bids them ? " 
 
 " Are you the King ? " said the lad of ten who had 
 called himself James Johnstone. 
 
 At this Westerhall waxed perfectly furious, with a 
 pale and shaking fury that 1 liked not to see. But 
 indeed the whole was so distasteful to me that some- 
 times I could but turn my head away. 
 
 " Now, ill bairns," said Westerha', " and you, my 
 young rebel-namesake, hearken ye. The King's com- 
 mand is not to be made light of. And I tell you 
 plainly that as you will not answer, I am resolved that 
 you shall all be shot dead on the spot ! " 
 
 With that he sent men to set them out in rows, and 
 make them kneel down with kerchiefs over their eyes. 
 
 Now when the soldiers came near to the huddled 
 cluster of bairns, that same little heart-broken bleating 
 which I have heard the lambs make, broke again from 
 them. It made my heart bleed and the nerves tingle 
 in my palms. And this was King Charles Stuart 
 making war ! It had not been his father's way.
 
 72 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 But the soldiers, though some few were smiling a 
 little as at an excellent play, were mostly black 
 ashamed. Nevertheless they took the bairns and 
 made them kneel, for that was the order, and without 
 mutiny they could not better it. 
 
 " Sodger-man, wuU ye let me tak' my wee brither 
 by the hand and dee that way ? I think he wad thole 
 it better ! " said a little maid of eight, looking up. 
 
 And the soldier let go a great oath and looked at 
 Westerha' as though he could have slain him. 
 
 " Bonny wark," he cried, " deil burn me gin I 
 listed for this ! " 
 
 But the little lass had already taken her brother by 
 the hand. 
 
 " Bend doon bonny. Alec my man, doon on your 
 knees ! " said she. 
 
 The boy glanced up at her. He had long yellow 
 hair like Jean Hamilton's little Alec. 
 
 " Wull it be sair ? " he asked. " Think ye, 
 Maggie ? I houp it'll no be awfu' sair ! " 
 
 " Na, Alec," his sister made answer, " it'll no be 
 either lang or sair." 
 
 But the boy of ten, whose name was James 
 Johnstone, neither bent nor knelt. 
 
 "I hae dune nae wrang. I'll juist dee this way," 
 he said ; and he stood up like one that straightens 
 himself at drill. 
 
 Then Westerha' bid fire over the bairns' heads, 
 which was cruel, cruel work, and only some of the 
 soldiers did it. But even the few pieces that went off 
 made a great noise in that lonely place. At the sound 
 of the muskets some of the bairns fell forward on their 
 faces as if they had been really shot. Some leapt in 
 the air, but the most part knelt quietly and composedly.
 
 THROUGH DEATH'S DARK VALE 73 
 
 The little boy Alec, whose sister had his hand 
 clasped in hers, made as if he would rise. 
 
 "Bide ye doon. Alec," she said, very quietly "it's 
 no oor turn yet ! " 
 
 At this the heart within me gave way, and I roared 
 out in my helpless pain a perfect * govvl ' of anger 
 and grief. 
 
 " Bonny Whigs ye are," cried Westerha', " to dee 
 withoot even a prayer. Put up a prayer this minute, 
 for ye shall all dee, every one of you." 
 
 And the boy James Johnstone made answer to him: 
 
 "Sir, we cannot pray, for we be too young to pray." 
 
 " You are not too young to rebel, nor yet to die for 
 it ! " was the brute-beast's answer. 
 
 Then with that the little girl held up a hand as if 
 she were answering a dominie in a class. 
 
 " An' it please ye, sir," she said, " me an' Alec 
 canna pray, but we can sing 'The Lord's my Shep- 
 herd,' gin that wull do ! My mither learned it us 
 afore she gaed awa'." 
 
 And before any one could stop her, she stood up 
 like one that leads the singing in a kirk. " Stan' up. 
 Alec, my wee mannie," she said. 
 
 Then all the bairns stood up. I declare it minded 
 me of Bethlehem and the night when Herod's troopers 
 rode down to look for Mary's bonny Bairn. 
 
 Then from the lips of the babes and sucklings arose 
 the quavering strains : 
 
 " The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want, 
 He makes me down to lie 
 In pastures green ; He leadeth mc 
 The quiet waters by." 
 
 As they sang I gripped out my pistols and began to
 
 74 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 sort and prime them, hardly knowing what I did. For 
 I was resolved to make a break for it, and, at the 
 least, to blow a hole in James Johnstone of Westerha' 
 that would mar him for life before I suffered any- 
 more of it. 
 
 But even as they sang I saw trooper after trooper 
 turn away his head, for, being Scots bairns, they had 
 all learned that psalm. The ranks shook. Man after 
 man fell out, and I saw the tears happing dov/n their 
 cheeks. But it was Douglas of Morton, that stark 
 persecutor, who first broke down. 
 
 " Curse it, Westerha'," he cried, " I canna thole 
 this langer. I'll war nae mair wi' bairns for a' the 
 earldom i' the North." 
 
 And at last even Westerha' turned his bridle-rein, 
 and rode away from off the bonny holms of Shieldhill, 
 for the victory was to the bairns. I wonder what his 
 thoughts were, for he too had learned that psalm at 
 the knees of his mother. And as the troopers rode 
 loosely up hill and down brae, broken and ashamed, 
 the sound of these bairns' singing followed after them, 
 and soughing across the fells came the words : 
 
 "Yea, though I walk in Death's dark vale. 
 Yet will I fear none ill : 
 For Thou art with me ; and Thy rod 
 And staff me comfort still." 
 
 Then Westerha' swore a great oath and put the 
 spurs in his horse to get clear of the sweet singing.
 
 - CHAPTER X 
 
 THE GRAVE IN THE WILDERNESS 
 
 But on the morrow I, who desired to see the ways of 
 the Compellers, learned a lesson that ended my scholar- 
 ship days with them. James Johnstone seemed some- 
 what moved by the matter of the bairns, but by the 
 morning light he had again hardened his heart, like 
 Pharaoh, more bitterly than before. For he was now 
 on his own land, and because his thought was that the 
 King would hold him answerable for the behaviour and 
 repute of his people, he became more than ordinarily 
 severe. This he did, b«ing a runagate from the whole- 
 some ways of the Covenant ; and, therefore, the more 
 bitter against all who remained of that way. 
 
 He drove into the yards of the farm-towns, raging 
 like a tiger of the Indies, now calling on the names of the 
 goodman of the house, and now upon other suspected 
 persons. And if they did not run out to him at the 
 first cry, he would strike them on the face with the 
 basket hilt of his shable till the blood gushed out. It 
 was a sick and sorry thing to see, and I think his 
 Majesty's troopers were ashamed ; all saving the 
 Johnstone's own following, who laughed as at rare 
 sport. 
 
 But I come now to tell what I saw with my own 
 eyes of the famous matter of Andrew Herries, which 
 was the cause of my cousin of Lochinvar leaving their 
 company and riding with me and Hugh Kerr all the
 
 76 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 way to Edinburgh. As, indeed, you shall presently 
 hear. And the manner of its happening was as follows. 
 We were riding full slowly along the edge of a boggy 
 loch in the parish of Hutton, and, as usual, quartering 
 the ground for Whig refugees, of whom it was sus- 
 pected that there were many lurking in the neighbour- 
 hood. We had obtained no success in our sport, and 
 Westerhall was a wild man. He ran about crying 
 " Blood and wounds ! " which was a favourite oath of 
 his, and telling what he would do to those who dared 
 to rebel, and harbour preachers and preachers' brats on 
 his estate. For we had heard that the lass who had 
 bearded us on the braeface by the school, with her 
 little brother Alec in her hand, was the daughter of 
 Robert Allison, a great preacher of the hill-folk who 
 had come to them over from Holland, to draw them 
 together into some of their ancient unity and power. 
 
 Westerhall then knew not as yet in whose house 
 she was dwelling, but only that she had been received 
 by one of his people. But this, if it should come to 
 Claverhouse's ears, was enough to cause him to set a 
 fine upon the Johnstone — so strict as against landlords 
 were the laws concerning intercommuning with rebels 
 or rebels' children on their estates. This was indeed 
 the cause of so many of the lairds, who at first were all 
 on the side of the Covenant, turning out Malignants 
 and persecutors. And more so in the shire of Dum- 
 fries than in Galloway, where the muirs are broader, 
 the King's arm not so long, and men more desperately 
 dour to drive. 
 
 All of a sudden, as we went along the edge of a 
 morass, wc came upon something that stayed us. It 
 was, as I say, in Hutton parish, a very pleasant place, 
 where there is the crying of many muirfowl, and the
 
 THE GRAVE IN THE WILDERNESS ^7 
 
 tinkle of running water everywhere. All at once a 
 questing dragoon held up his arm, and cried aloud. It 
 was the signal that he had found something worthy of 
 note. We all rode thither — I, for one, praying that it 
 might not be a poor wanderer, too wearied to run from 
 before the face of the troopers' wide-spreading advance. 
 
 However, it was but a newly-made grave in the 
 wilderness, hastily dug, and most pitifully covered with 
 green fresh-cut turves, in order to give it the look ot 
 the surrounding morass. It had very evidently been 
 made during the darkness of the night, and it might 
 have passed without notice then. But now, in the 
 broad equal glare of the noontide, it lay confessed for 
 what it was — a poor wandering hill-man's grave in the 
 wild. 
 
 "Who made this?" cried Westerhall. "Burn me 
 on the deil's brander, but I'll find him out ! " 
 
 " Hoot," said Clavers, who was not sharp set that 
 day, perhaps having had enough of Westerhall's dealing 
 with the bairns yesterday, " come away, Johnstone ; 
 'tis but another of your Eskdale saints. Ye have no 
 lack of them on your properties, as the King will no 
 doubt remember. What signifies a Whig Johnstone 
 the less ? There's more behind every dyke, and then 
 their chief is aye here, able and willing to pay for 
 them ! " 
 
 This taunt, uttered by the insolent scorning mouth 
 of Claverhouse, made Westerhall neither to hold nor 
 bind. Indeed, the fear of mulct and fine rode him like 
 the hag of dreams. 
 
 " Truth of God ! " cried he ; for he was a wild and 
 blasphemous man, very reckless in his words ; " do so 
 to me, and more also, if I rack not their limbs, that 
 gied the clouts to wrap him in. I'se burn the bed he
 
 78 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 lay in, bring doon the rafter and roof-tree that sheltered 
 him — ay, though it v/ere the bonny hoose o' St. John- 
 stone itseF, an' lay the harbourer of the dead Whig 
 cauld i' the clay, gin it were the mither that bore me ! 
 Dell reestlc me gin I keep not this vow." 
 
 Nov/, the most of the men there were upon occasion 
 bonny swearers, not taking lessons in the art from any 
 man ; but to the Johnstone they were as children. 
 For, being a runagate Covenanter, and no taccustomed 
 in his youth to swear, he had been at some pains to 
 learn the habit with care, thinking it a necessary 
 accomplishment and ornament to such as did the 
 King's business, especially to a captain of horse. 
 Which, indeed, it hath ever been held, but in modera- 
 tion and with discretion. Westerhall had neither, 
 being the man he was. 
 
 " Fetch the Whig dog up ! " he commanded. 
 The men hesitated, for it was a job not at all to 
 their stomachs, as well it might not be that hot day, 
 with the sun fierce upon them overhead. 
 
 "Tut, man," said Clavers, "let him lie. What 
 more can ye do but smell him ? Is he not where you 
 and I would gladly see all his clan ? Let the ill-favoured 
 Whig be, I say ! " 
 
 "I shall find out who sheltered him on my land. 
 Howk him up ! " cried Westerhall, more than ever set 
 in his mad cruelty at Colonel Graham's words. So to 
 the light of the merciless day they opened out the loose 
 and shallow grave, and came on one wrapped in a new 
 plaid, with winding sheets of pure linen underneath. 
 These were all stained and soaked with the black brew 
 of the moss, for the man had been buried, as was usual 
 at the time, hastily and without a coffin. But the 
 sleuthhound instinct of the Johnstone held good.
 
 THE GRAVE IN THE WILDERNESS 79 
 
 *AnnandaIe for the hunt, Nithsdale for the market, 
 and Gallowa' for the fecht ! ' is ever a true proverb. 
 
 " Let me see wha's aucht the sheet ? " he said. 
 
 So w^ith that, Westerhall unwound the corner and 
 held it up to the hght. 
 
 " Isobel Allison ! " he exclaimed, holding the fine 
 linen up to the light, and reading the name inw^oven, 
 as was then the custom when a bride did her providing. 
 " The widow Herrics, the verra v/oman — ain dam's 
 sister to the Whig preacher — sant amang the hill folk. 
 Weel ken I the kind o' her. To the hill, lads, and 
 we will burn the randy oot, even as I said. I'll learn the 
 Button folk to play wi' the beard o' St. Johnstone." 
 
 " Foul Annandale thief ! " said I, but stilly to my- 
 self, for who was I to stand against all of them ? Yet 
 I could see that, save and except the chief's own 
 ragged tail, there were none of the soldiers that thought 
 this kind of work becoming. 
 
 Ere he mounted, Westerhall took the poor, pitiful 
 body, and with his foot despitefully tumbled it into a 
 moss hole. 
 
 "I'll show them what it is to streek dead Whigs 
 like honest men, and row them dainty in seventeen 
 hunder linen on my lands ! " cried Westerhall. 
 
 And indeed it seemed a strange and marvellous Pro- 
 vidence to me, that young Isobel Allison, when she wove 
 in that name with many hopes and prayers, the blood 
 of her body flushing her cheek with a maiden's shy 
 expectation, should have been weaving in the ruin of 
 her house and the breaking of her heart. 
 
 Now the cot of the widow Herries was a bonny 
 place. So I believe, but of its beauty I will not speak. 
 For I never was back that way again — and what is 
 more, I never mean to be.
 
 8o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 We came to the gavel end of the house. Westerhall 
 struck it with his sword. 
 
 " We'll sune hae this doon ! " he said to us that 
 followed. Then louder he cried, " Mistress, are ye 
 within ? " as the custom of the country is. 
 
 A decent woman with a white widow's cap on her 
 head was scraping out a dish of hen's meat as we rode 
 to the door. When she saw us on our horses about 
 the close, the wooden bowl fell from her hands and played 
 clash on the floor. 
 
 "Aye, my bonny woman," quoth Westerhall, " this 
 comes o' keeping Whigs aboot your farm toon. 
 Whatna Whig rebel was it ye harboured ? Oot wi't, 
 Bell Allison ! Was it the brither o' ye, that cursed 
 spawn o' the low country ? Doon on your knees an* 
 tell me, else it is your last hour on the earth." 
 
 The poor woman fell on her knees and clasped her 
 hands. 
 
 " O Westerha' ! " she stammered, " I'll no lee till 
 ye. It was but a puir Westland man that we kenned 
 not the name o'. We fand him i' the fields, and for 
 very God's pity brocht him hame to our door and laid 
 him on the bed. He never spak' 'yea' or 'nay ' to us 
 all the time he abode in our hoose-place, and so passed 
 without a word late yestreen." 
 
 " Lying Whig ! " cried Westerhall, " who was it 
 that found him ? Whatna yin o' your rebel sons — 
 chasing up hill and doon dale after your blackguard 
 brither, was it that brocht him hame ? " 
 
 " I kenna wha it was that brocht him. It was a 
 wee bit lass that fand him when she was playin' i' the 
 moss wi' her brither." 
 
 " I ken your wee bit lasses," said Westerhall ; " she's 
 a bonny sprig o' that braw plant o' grace, Roger Allison,
 
 THE GRAVE IN THE V/ILDERNESS 8i 
 
 vvha's heid shall yet look blythe on the West Port o' 
 Edinburgh, wi' yin o' his cantin' thief's hands on ilka 
 side o't." 
 
 The poor woman said no word, but out from the 
 chamber door came our little lass of yesterday and stood 
 beside her. 
 
 " Wha's plaidie is this ? " again quoth Westcrhail, 
 holding up the plaid in which the dead man had been 
 wrapped, like an accusation in his hand, " to the hill, 
 boys, and lay hand on this honest woman's honest sons. 
 King Charles wull hae something to say to them, I'm 
 thinkin'." 
 
 With that he leapt from his horse, throwing the 
 reins to the widov/. 
 
 " Hae, baud my horse," he said, " an' gin ye stir an 
 inch, ye'll get an ounce o' lead in you, ye auld shakin' 
 limb o' Sawtan."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS 
 
 With that, like a loch broken loose, Johnstone's tail 
 of Annandale thieves rushed within the house and dang 
 all things here and there at their liking. Some came 
 forth carrying good house gear, some table furniture, 
 and some the plenishing of bed and wardrobe. They 
 turned all that they could not carry into the midst of 
 the floor to burn at their leisure. They drove away 
 the cattle from off the braeface. They gathered the 
 widow's poor head of sheep off the hill. And all the 
 time Isobel Herries stood trembling for her lads and 
 holding the chiefs horse. As the men passed, one 
 after another, they flung words at her that will not 
 bear writing down. And I was glad that the little 
 maid who stood by w^ith her brother in her hand, 
 understood not their import. 
 
 When all was done, Westerhall set to work and 
 pulled down the whole house, for the rigging and 
 walls were but of baked clay and crumbled before 
 them. Yet the poor woman wailed for them bitterly, 
 as they had been a palace. 
 
 " The bonny bit, O the bonny bit ! " she cried. 
 *' Where I had sic a sweet bairn-time. I was that 
 happy wi' a' my tottlin' weans aboot my hand. But I 
 kenned it couldna last — it was ower sweet to last." 
 
 So they turned her out to the bare hillside with the 
 bairns in her hand. It did not, to my thinking, make
 
 THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS 83 
 
 the case any better that her brother was a rebel. But 
 in those days it was treason to succour the living or 
 honour the dead — ay, even if they had lain in your 
 bed and stirred in your side. It was forbidden on pain 
 of death to give them so much as a bed or a meal of 
 meat. For such was the decree of just and pious 
 Charles, King at Whitehall, who alone had the right 
 to say in what fashion the poor ignorant folk of Scot- 
 land should worship the God of their fathers. 
 
 We had not ridden far after leaving the house a heap 
 of ruins, before v/e met Claverhouse and his troop, 
 riding slow, with a prisoner in the midst of them. 
 
 " What luck ! " cried he ; " good sport in your ain 
 coverts, Westerha' ? " 
 
 He had a delicately insolent contempt for the John- 
 stone that sat well on him, though as I knew well he 
 could be as cold and bloody as any of them when the 
 humour drove him. Yet mostly he killed like a gen- 
 tleman after all, and not like a border horse thief — save 
 only in the case of honest John Brown of Priesthill. 
 
 But Westerhall had caught sight of Clavers' prisoner. 
 He rode up to him and struck him a buffet in the face, 
 though the lad's hands were tied before him. He was 
 a youth of eighteen, as near as one might guess, a boy 
 of a pleasant and ruddy countenance, such as one may 
 chance to see on any braeface in Scotland where there 
 are sheep feeding, with a staff in his hand and a dog 
 at his heels. 
 
 " My Whiggie, I have you now," he cried. " Fll 
 e'en learn you to row dead rebels in your plaidie, and 
 harbour hill preachers on my land. Could I get at 
 your brothers, I declare I wadna leave a Herries birkie 
 on the lands o' Westerha'. Have him down, men," 
 he cried, "and shoot him here."
 
 84 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 But Clivers interposed. 
 
 " No," he said, " he is now my prisoner. Ride ye 
 on to Westerha' ; and there, Johnstone, I shall give ye 
 a present of him to make a kirk or a mill of. It'll be 
 you that will have to pay the harbourage cess for this 
 day's work at ony gate ! " 
 
 So to Westerhall Johnstone rode, very gloomy and 
 ill at ease — for the black dog was sitting heavy on him 
 at the thought of the fine anent harbourers of rebels 
 being found on his land. Again and again he broke 
 out on the poor youth Andrew Plerries, threatening 
 what he would do with him when he got him to 
 Westerhall. But the youth never so much as answered 
 back, only cast down his head and looked on the moss 
 before him. Yet he walked carefully and without 
 stumbling as one that takes heed to his going. 
 
 Now at a bonny spot where there is much green 
 grass, it so happened that we halted. You will find 
 the place readily if ever you pass that way. It is just 
 on that tongue of land where the Rig Burn meets the 
 Esk Water and close by the house of Westerhall. 
 There, where the Great Hill of Stennies Water pushes 
 down a spur to the waterside, was our halting-place. 
 Here, as soon as we alighted down, Westerhall passed 
 sentence on Andrew Herries, saying that he had due 
 authority from the Council as King's Justicer for the 
 parts about the Esk and Annan. 
 
 Claverhouse was noways keen for the lad's shooting, 
 and strove to put him off. Yet he was not over-earnest 
 in the matter, for (as he often said) to John Graham a 
 dead Whig was always greatly better than a living. 
 
 But for all that, he waved his hand and cried aloud : 
 
 " The blood of this poor man, Westerha', be upon 
 you. I am free from it."
 
 THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS S5 
 
 Nevertheless, since Westerhall had given the sen- 
 tence and for example's sake it could not be departed 
 from, Claverhouse ordered a Highland gentleman, the 
 captain of a free company that v^as traversing the 
 country vv^ith him, to shoot the lad and get it over. 
 But Donald Dhu cocked his bonnet till the eagle's 
 feather in it stood erect, and in high dudgeon drew 
 off his clansmen. 
 
 " Hursel cam' frae the Heelants to fecht men, and 
 no to be pluff-pluffin' poother at poor lads that are 
 no lang frae the mither's milk." 
 
 This v/as the statement of Donald Dhu, and I that 
 had no love for Highlandmen, nor any cause to love 
 them, remembering the hand they made of my father's 
 house of Earlstoun, could have cheered him where I 
 stood. But I remembered the errand I was on, and 
 for my mother's sake forbore. 
 
 " What ! " cried Westerhall, glowering at him and 
 riding up close, as if to strike him, " would you 
 disobey the General's orders ! " 
 
 " Donald Dhu has no General but his King," cried 
 the bold Highlandman. "Call up your row-footed 
 messans, and bid them do your ain dirty work." 
 
 Then Claverhouse, who of all things loved not to 
 be outfaced, ordered him peremptorily to obey. 
 
 " Indeed, John Graham, hursel will fecht ye first — 
 you and a' your troop." 
 
 Then seeing that Clavers was about to raise his 
 hand in command, as though to take him unawares — 
 
 " Claymores ! " suddenly cried Donald Dhu, and 
 behind him fifty Highland brands flashed in air as 
 the wild clansmen threw back their plaids to clear 
 the sword-arm. 
 
 "This I shall report to the Privy Council," said
 
 86 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS'. 
 
 Clavers very gravely, turning on him a black and 
 angry countenance. 
 
 But the brave Highlander vi^as noways affected. 
 
 " Hooch ! " he said, giving his fingers a snap, " a 
 fig for your Preevies — Donald Dhu vv^ull hae small 
 notion o' Preevy Cooncils on Ben Muick. Gin 
 Preevies come to veesit Donald Dhu on Spey side, 
 it's just hursel that v/ull be the prood man to see the 
 Preevies — ay, or you yersel' either, John Graham ! " 
 
 Thus much Donald Dhu, and he was a good man 
 and died linking down the brae with his men true, 
 behind John Graham at Killiecrankie in the fulness of 
 time — which was better work than, as he said, " plufF- 
 pluffin' poother at puir lawlan tykes." 
 
 But when Wcsterhall saw that the Highland birses 
 were up, and that he would in nowise obey orders, he 
 ordered some of his own scoundrels to do the thing. 
 For his black heart was set on the shooting of the 
 lad. 
 
 Then I could endure no longer, but ran forward 
 as if to save him, crying out to them that he was 
 innocent, and but a lad at any rate, which mightily 
 angered Westerhall. 
 
 " Stell up the yae rebel whelp beside the other ! " 
 he said ; and I believe that had we been alone with 
 the Annandale men, they would have done it. 
 
 But Clavers said: "Let be I Take away young 
 Earlstoun to the knowe-tap ! " 
 
 So they led me off, fairly girning with anger and im- 
 potence. For once I longed for Sandy's brute strength 
 to charge at them like a bull wi4:h the head down. 
 
 " Lochinvar ! " I cried, as they forced me away, 
 " To me, Lochinvar ! " 
 
 But, alas ! my cousin was offon some of his own 
 ploys, and came not till too late. As you shall hear.
 
 THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS 87 
 
 Then when the men were in rank to fire, Wester- 
 hall bid Andrew Herries draw down his blue bonnet over 
 his eyes. But he was a lad of most undaunted courage, 
 and though he had come so meekly to the slaughter, 
 now he spoke out boldly enough. 
 
 *' I wad raither dee," he said, " in the face o' a' men 
 and the plain licht o' God. I hae dune nocht to make 
 me shamed afore my death-bringers. Though, being 
 but young, I hae but little testimony to gie, an' nae 
 great experience o' religion to speak aboot. The end 
 has come ower quick on me for that ! " 
 
 Then they asked him, as was their custom, if he 
 had aught to say before sentence should take effect 
 upon him. 
 
 " Nocht in particular," he said, " but there's a book 
 here (and he pulled a little Bible out of his breast) 
 that you an' me will be judged by. I wish I had read 
 mair earnestly in it an' profited better by it. But at 
 ony rate I aye carried it to read at the herdin', and my 
 time has been cut short.'' 
 
 " Make haste," they said, " we haena time to taigle 
 wi' ye." 
 
 "And I hae as little desire to taigle wi'you," he said, 
 " but I am glad that I didna grudge the puir Westland 
 man my best plaid for his last covering, though there 
 be none to do as muckle for me." 
 
 The fire rang out. The blue wreaths of smoke 
 rose level, and there on the green sward, with his face 
 to the sky, and his Bible yet in his hand, lay the 
 widow's son, Andrew Herries, very still. 
 
 "So perish all the King's rebels," cried Westerhall 
 loudly, as it were, to give the black deed a colour of law. 
 
 But John Graham said never a word, only lifted his 
 hat and then rode away with a countenance like the 
 granite stone of the mountain.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 WE RIDE TO EDINBURGH 
 
 When nw cousin Lochinvar heard what had been 
 done in the matter of the lad, Andrew Herries, his 
 anger burned fiercely within him. He sought Wester- 
 hall on the instant. 
 
 " Foul Annandale thief ! " he cried, " come out and 
 try the length of thy sword on the heather. Down 
 with thee and see if thou canst stand up to a man, 
 thou great stirk. 'Tis easy putting thy wolf's spite 
 on helpless bairns, but this sword-arm shall tickle thy 
 midriff to an unkenncd tune." 
 
 But Colonel Graham would not let them fight. 
 
 " Aroint thee," he said to Lochinvar, " for a young 
 ruffler and spitfire. Well may they call thee Wullcat. 
 But you shall not decimate my troop, or I must put 
 you in irons, for all those bright eyes which the ladies 
 love." 
 
 Lochinvar turned to him. 
 
 " Colonel Graham, did you yourself not say, ' I am 
 guiltless of this poor man's life I ' So, at least, I have 
 been informed." 
 
 Claverhouse nodded grimly. It was not a weakness 
 he often showed. 
 
 "Then why not let me have it out with this bairn- 
 slayer ? I had e'en garred the guard o' my sword 
 dirl again his ribs." 
 
 In another the boast had seemed like presumption,
 
 WE RIDE TO EDINBURGH S9 
 
 but so noble a sworder was Wat Gordon that he 
 but stated a truth. And all that were present knew it 
 for such. 
 
 "Westerhall will be the more grateful to me, in 
 that case," said Clavers ; " but hark ye, Lochinvar ! 
 there must be no more of this. Ye would reduce the 
 number of his Majesty's forces effective in one way. 
 The Reverend Richard Cameron (with whom Provi- 
 dence send me a good and swift meeting) in another. 
 But in the end it comes to the same thing. Now I 
 opine, it will fit you well to hie to Edinburgh with 
 despatches. And I prithee take your noble and peace- 
 ful cousin of Earlstoun with thee. Gin thou canst 
 exchange him there for his brother Sandy, I shall be 
 the more glad to see thee back." 
 
 So in a Httle Wat Gordon and I (Hugh Kerr and 
 John Scarlet being with us) were riding with Claver- 
 house's despatches to the Privy Council. 
 
 Northward we travelled through infinite rough 
 and unkindly places, vexed ever with a bitter wind in 
 our faces. As we passed many of the little cot houses 
 on the opposite hillsides, we could see a head look 
 suddenly out upon us. Then the door fell open, and 
 with a rush like wild things breaking from their dens, 
 a father and a son, or such like, would take the 
 heather. And once, even, we saw the black coat of a 
 preacher. But with never a halt we went on our way, 
 sharp-set to reach Edinburgh. 
 
 As we went, Wat Gordon spoke to me of the great 
 ones of the town, and especially of the Duchess of 
 Wellwood, with whom, as it appeared, he was high in 
 favour. But whether honestly or no, I had no means 
 of judging. It v/as passing strange for me, who 
 indeed was too young for such love, even had I been
 
 90 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 fitted by nature for it — to hear Wat speak of the 
 gallantry of the great ladies of the Court, and of the 
 amorous doings at Whitehall. For I had been strictly 
 brought up — a thing which to this day I do not regret, 
 for it gives even ill-doing a better relish. But in these 
 times w^hen there are many new-fangled notions about 
 the upbringing of children and the manner of teaching 
 them, I ever declare I do not know any better way than 
 that which my father used. Its heads and particulars 
 were three — the Shorter Catechism for the soul, good 
 oatmeal porridge for the inward man — and for the out- 
 ward, some twigs of the bonny birk, properly applied 
 and that upon the appointed place. 
 
 So that to hear of the gay French doings at the 
 Court, which by Wat's telling were greatly copied in 
 Edinburgh, was to me like beholding the jigging and 
 coupling of puggy monkeys in a cage to make sport 
 for the vulgar. 
 
 " The Lord keep me from the like of that ! " I cried, 
 when he had told me of a ploy that Lady Castle- 
 maine and my pretty Mistress Stuart had carried through 
 together — the point of which was that these two quip- 
 some dames were wedded, like man and wife, and eke 
 bedded before the Court. 
 
 And at this Wat Gordon, who had not much 
 humour at the most of times, turned on me with a 
 quizzical look on his face, saying, " I think you are in 
 no great danger. Cousin William." 
 
 Which I took not ill, for at that time I cared not a 
 jot about the appearance of my body, nor for any lady's 
 favour in the land. 
 
 When we reached Edinburgh, I went immediately 
 to decent lodgings in the West Bow, to which I 
 had been directed by my mother. But Walter, saying
 
 WE RIDE TO EDINBURGH 91 
 
 that the West Bow was no fit lodging for a gentleman, 
 went on to settle himself in one of the fashionable 
 closes ofF the Lawn market. 
 
 As soon as we were by ourselves, my man, Hugh 
 Kerr, came to me, and began to ask if I knew anything 
 of John Scarlet, the serving man that accompanied my 
 cousin. 
 
 I replied that I knew nothing of him, save that my 
 cousin had past all endurance cried him up to me as a 
 mighty sworder. 
 
 " Weel," said Hugh Kerr, " it may be, but it's my 
 c-peenion that he is a most mighty leer, an' a great 
 scoundrel forbye." 
 
 I asked him why, and at the first go-off he would 
 give me no better answer than that he opined that his 
 name was not John Scarlet but John Varlet, as better 
 denoting a gentleman of his kidney. 
 I But when I pressed him, he told me that this serving 
 man had told him that he had committed at least half- 
 a-dozen murders — which he called slaughters and justi- 
 fied, that he had been at nigh half a hundred killings in 
 the fields, yet that he could pray like Mr. Kid himself 
 at a Societies' Meeting, and be a leader among the hill- 
 folk when it seemed good to him. 
 
 " An' the awesome thing o't a' is that the ill deil 
 declared that he had half-a-dizzen wives, and that he 
 could mainteen the richts o' that too. So I reasoned 
 with him, but faith ! the scoundrel had the assurance 
 to turn my flank wi' Abraham and the patriarchs. He 
 said that he wadna cast up Solomon to me, for he wasna 
 just prepared to uphaud the lengths that Solomon gaed 
 to i' the maitter o' wives." ' 
 
 But I told Hugh to give his mind no concern about 
 the sayings qt doings of Master John Scarlet or Varlet,
 
 92 THE MEN OF THE MOSS HAGS 
 
 for that it was all most likely lies ; and if not, neither 
 he nor I was the man's master, to whom alone he 
 stood or fell. 
 
 But for all that I could see that Hughie was much 
 dashed by his encounter with my cousin's follower, for 
 Hughie accounted himself a great hand at the Scripture. 
 We heard afterwards that John Scarlet had been a 
 sometime follower of Muckle John Gib, and that it was 
 in his company that he learned notions, which is a thing 
 exceeding likely. But this was before Anton Lennox 
 of the Duchrae took John in hand and sorted him to 
 rights, that day in the moss of the Deers' Slunk between 
 Lowthiau and Lanark. 
 
 Then with my cousin's interest to back me, and 
 especially that which he made with the Duchess of 
 Wellwood, I wore out the winter of the year 1679 in 
 petitions and embassies, praying that the estates should 
 not be taken from us, and biding all the time in my first 
 lodging in the West Bow. I had James Stewart, then 
 in hiding, to make out my pleas, and right ably he 
 drew them. It was a strong point in our favour that 
 my father had not been killed at Bothwell, but only 
 when advancing in the direction of the combatants. 
 And besides, I myself had bidden at home, and not 
 ridden out with the others. As for Sandy, he had not 
 the chance of a lamb in a wolf's maw, having been on 
 the field itself with a troop. So I stood for my own 
 claim, meaning with all my very heart to do right by 
 my elder brother when the time came — though, indeed, 
 I had but small reason to love him for his treatment of 
 me. Yet for all that, I shall never say but what he was 
 a stupid, honest lown enough. 
 
 Mayhap if he had been other than my brother, I 
 might have loved him better 3 but he tortured me as
 
 WE RIDE TO EDINBURGH 93 
 
 thoughtlessly when I was a weakly lad as if I had been 
 a paddock or a fly, till the instinct of dislike infected 
 my blood. And after that there could be no hope of 
 liking, hardly of tolerance. This is the reason of most 
 of the feuds among brothers the world over. For it 
 is the fact, though there are few fathers that suspect it, 
 that many elder brothers make the lives of the youngers 
 a burden too heavy to be borne — which thing, together 
 with marrying of wives, in after years certainly works 
 bitterness. 
 
 More than anything, it struck me as strange that 
 my cousin Lochinvar could make merry in the very 
 city — where but a few months before his father had 
 been executed and done to death. But Hughie Kerr 
 told me one evening, when we were going over 
 Glenkens things, how Wat's father had used him — 
 keeping him at the strap's end. For Wat was ever his 
 mother's boy, who constantly took his part as he needed 
 it, and made a great cavalier and King's man of him. 
 This his father tried to prevent and drive out of him 
 with blows, till the lad fairly hated him and his 
 Covenants. And so it was as it was. For true 
 religion comes not by violence, but chiefly, I think, 
 from being brought up with good men, reverencing 
 their ways and words.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WULLCAT WAT DARES HEAVEN AND HELL 
 
 It was about the end of February, when the days 
 are beginning to creep out quickly from their shortest, 
 that my aunt, the Lady Lochinvar, came to town. 
 I, that asked only meat and house-room, com- 
 panied not much with the braver folk who sought 
 the society of my cousin of Lochinvar. Wat glanced 
 here and there in some new bravery every day, and 
 I saw him but seldom. However, my lady aunt came 
 to see me when she had been but three days in town. 
 For she was punctilious about the claims of blood and 
 kinship, which, indeed, women mostly think much 
 more of than do men. 
 
 " A good morning, cousin," said she, " and how 
 speeds the suit ? " 
 
 Then I told her somewhat of the law's delays and 
 how I had an excellent lawyer, albeit choleric and 
 stormy in demeanour — one of mine own name, Mr. 
 William Gordon, though his pleas were drawn by 
 James Stewart, presently in hiding. What Gordon 
 said went down well with my Lords of the Council 
 meeting in Holyrood, for he was a great swearer and 
 damned freely in his speech. But Hugh Wallace, that 
 was the King's cash-keeper, claimed the fine because 
 that my father was a heritor — conform to the Acts of 
 Parliament made against these delinquencies and con- 
 venticles in 1670 and 1672, appointing the fin^s of
 
 WULLCAT WAT DARES HEAVEN AND HELL 95 
 
 heritors being transgressors to come into the treasury. 
 But Sir George Mackenzie said, " If this plea be not 
 James Stewart's drawing I have no skill of law. Tell 
 me, Gordon, gin ye drew this yoursel' or is James 
 Stewart in Scotland ? " 
 
 Then my Lady of Lochinvar asked of me when I 
 thought my matters might be brought to an end. 
 
 " That I know not," said I ; « it seems slow 
 enough." 
 
 " All law is slow, save that which my man and your 
 father got," said she. 
 
 I was astonished that she should mention her man, 
 with that courage and countenance, and the story not 
 six months old j indeed, his very head sticking on the 
 Netherbow, not a mile from us as we talked. But 
 she saw some part of this in my face, and quickly 
 began to say on. 
 
 " You Gordons never think you die honest unless 
 you die in arms against the King. But ye stand well 
 together, though your hand is against every other man. 
 And that is why I, that am but a tacked-on Gordon, 
 come to help you if so be I can ; though I and my 
 boy stand for the King, and you and your rebel 
 
 brother Sandy for the Covenants. Weary fa' them 
 
 that took my man from me — for he was a good man 
 to me, though we agreed but ill together concerning 
 kings and politics." 
 
 " Speak for my brother Sandy," I said, " I am no 
 strong sufferer, and so shall get me, I fear me, no 
 golden garments." 
 
 Thus I spoke in my ignorance, for the witty lown- 
 warm air of Edinburgh in spiritual things, had for the 
 time being infected me with opinions like those of the 
 Laodiceans.
 
 96 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Now this was a favourite overword of my mother's, 
 that suffering was the Christian's golden garment. But 
 to my aunt, to whom rehgion was mostly family tradi- 
 tion (or so I thought), I might as well have spoken 
 of fried fish. 
 
 " But concerning Walter," she went on, as one 
 that comes to a real subject after beating about the 
 bush, " tell me of him. You have been here with 
 him in this city the best part of three months." 
 
 Now indeed I saw plainly enough what it was that 
 had procured me the honour of a visit so early from 
 my lady of Lochinvar. 
 
 " In this city I have indeed been, my aunt," I 
 replied, " but not with Walter. For I am not Lord 
 of Lochinvar, but only the poor suitor of the King's 
 mercy. And I spent not that which I have not, nor 
 yet can I afford further to burden the estate which 
 may never be mine." 
 
 She waved her hand as at a Whig scruple, which 
 good King's folk made light of. 
 
 " But what of Walter — you have seen — is it well 
 with the lad ? " 
 
 She spoke eagerly and laid her hand on my arm. 
 
 But after all the business was not mine, and besides, 
 a Gordon — Covenant or no Covenant — is no tale-piet, 
 as my lady might well have known. 
 
 "Wat Gordon," said I, " is the gayest and brightest 
 young spark in town, like a Damascus blade for mettle, 
 and there are none that love not his coming, and grieve 
 not at his going." 
 
 "Ay — ladies, that I ken," said my aunt. : "What of 
 my Lady Well wood ? " 
 
 Now I had a very clear opinion of my Lady Well- 
 wood, though I knew her not ; for indeed she would
 
 WULLCAT WAT DARES HEAVEN AND HELL 97 
 
 not have waved the back of her lily hand to me in the 
 street. But she w^as a handsome vi^oman, and I ad- 
 mired her greatly for the fairness of her countenance 
 as she went by. Besides, the business of Wat and my 
 Lady Wellwood was none of mine. 
 
 " My lady is in truth a fine woman," I said calmly, 
 looking up as if I were saying what must please my 
 visitor. 
 
 The Lady Lochinvar struck one hand on the other 
 hastily and rose. 
 
 " Attend me home," she said ; " I see after all that 
 you are a man, and so must defend all men and admire 
 all women." 
 
 " The last, for your ladyship's sake, I do," I made 
 answer. For in those days we were taught to be 
 courteous to the elder ladies, and to make them be- 
 coming compliments, which is in danger of being a 
 forgotten art in these pettifogging times. 
 
 "What takes you to the Covenant side?" asked 
 Lady Lochinvar. " Certes, the Falkland dominie had 
 not made that speech." 
 
 "The same that took your husband, Lady Loch- 
 invar," I returned, somewhat nettled. For she spake 
 as if the many honest folk in Scotland were but dirt 
 beneath the feet of the few. But that was ever the 
 way of her kind. 
 
 " Kenned ye ever a Gordon that would be driven 
 with whips of scorpions, or one that could not be 
 drawn with the light of ladies' eyes ? " 
 
 She sighed, and gathered up her skirts. 
 
 " Ay, the last all too readily," she said, thinking, I 
 doubt not, of Walter Gordon and my lady of Wellwood. 
 
 It was dusking when we stepped out. My aunt 
 took my arm and desired that we should walk home, 
 
 Q
 
 98 .THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 though already I had called a chair for her. So wt 
 went up the narrow, dirty street and came slowly to 
 her lodgings. Walter met us on the stair of the 
 turnpike. He was shining in silk and velvet as was 
 recently his constant wont. Lace rufHes were at his 
 wrists. He had a gold chain about his neck, and a 
 jewelled rapier flashed and swung in a gold-broidered 
 velvet sheath at his side. 
 
 He seemed no little dashed by our coming in to- 
 gether. I quickly understood that he had thought his 
 mother safely out of the way, and wondered how I 
 should keep the peace between them. For by the 
 tremble of her hand on my arm I felt that the storm 
 was nigh the breaking. 
 
 Yet for all that he stopped and kissed her dutifully, 
 standing on the step with his hat in his hand, to let 
 her pass within. The flickering light of the cruisie 
 lamp in the stairhead fell on him, and I thought he 
 had the noblest figure of a youth that ever my eyes 
 had rested upon. 
 
 But his mother would not let him go. 
 
 " Attend me to my chamber, Walter," she said. " I 
 have that concerning which I would speak with you." 
 
 So wc went upward, turning and twisting up the 
 long stairs, till we came to the door where my lady 
 lodged. She tirled fretfully at the pin, the servant-maid 
 openesl, and we went within. The window stood wide 
 to give a draught to the fire of wood that burned on 
 the firegrate. I went over to close it, and, as I did 
 so, a broad flake of snow swirled down, and lay melting 
 on my wrist. It told me that it was to be a wild 
 night — the last snowstorm of the year, belike. 
 
 My lady came back from her own bed-chamber 
 in a moment. She had merely laid aside her plaid,
 
 WULLCAT WAT DARES HEAVEN AND HELL 99 
 
 waiting not to change her gown lest her son should be 
 gone. 
 
 Walter Gordon stood discontentedly enough at the 
 side of the firegrate, touching the glowing embers v/ith 
 his French shoe, careless of how he burnt it. 
 
 " Walter," said my aunt, "will you not pleasure us 
 with your company to-night ? " 
 
 " I cannot, my lady," said Lochinvar, without look- 
 ing up ; "I have made an engagement elsewhere." 
 
 He spoke baldly and harshly, as one that puts a 
 restraint on himself. 
 
 His mother looked at him with her eyes like coals 
 from which the leaping flame has just died out. For 
 a moment she said nothing, but the soul within her 
 flamed out of the windows of her house of clay, fiery 
 and passionate. It had come to the close and deadly 
 pinch with her, and it was on the dice's throw whether 
 she would lose or keep her son. 
 
 "Walter Gordon," she said at last, " has your mother 
 journeyed thus far to so little purpose, that now she is 
 here, you will not do her the honour to spend a single 
 night in her company ? Since when has she become 
 so distasteful to you ? " 
 
 " Mother," said Wat, moved in spite of himself, 
 "you do not yourself justice when you speak so. I 
 v/ould spend many nights v/ith you, for all my love and 
 service are yours ; but to-night I cannot fail to go 
 whither I have promised without being mansworn and 
 tryst-breaker. And you have taught me that the 
 Gordons are neither." 
 
 " Wat," she said, hearing but not heeding his words, 
 " bide you by me to-night. There be sweet maids a 
 many that will give their lives for you. You are too 
 young for such questing and companionry. Go not
 
 loo THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 to my Lady Wellwood to-night. O do not, my son ! 
 'Tis your mother that makes herself a beggar to you ! " 
 
 At the name of my Lady Wellwood, Walter 
 Gordon started from his place as though he had been 
 stung and glanced over at me with a sudden and fiery 
 anger. 
 
 " If my cousin " 
 
 But I kept my eyes clear upon him, as full of fire 
 mayhap as his own. And even in that moment I saw 
 the thought pass out of his mind in the uncertain 
 firelight. 
 
 " Your cousin has told me nothing, though I deny 
 not that I asked him," said my Lady curtly. " Young 
 men hang together, like adder's eggs. But Wat, dear 
 Wat, will you not put off your gay apparelling and 
 take a night at the cartes with us at home. See, the 
 fire is bright and the lamp ready. It will be a wild 
 night without presently ! " 
 
 " To-morrow, mother, to-morrow at e'en shall be 
 the night of my waiting upon you. To-night, believe 
 me, I cannot — though, because you ask me, with all 
 my heart I would that I could." 
 
 Then his mother rose up from her seat by the fire, 
 and went up to him. She laid her hand on his arm 
 and looked into his eyes. 
 
 " O Walter, my boy, go not forth to-night " — 
 (here I declare to God the proud woman knelt to her 
 
 own son) "See, I have put off my pride, and I 
 
 pray you not to go for my sake — for your mother's 
 sake, that never denied you anything. There is evil 
 boding in the air." 
 
 She shuddered and, in rising, threw an arm over 
 his shoulder, as though she had been his sweetheart 
 and were flceching with him.
 
 WULLCAT WAT DARES HEAVEN AND HELL loi 
 
 For a moment I saw Wat Gordon waver. Then 
 he took her hand gently and drew it down from his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Mother, for you I would do all, save set a stain 
 upon my honour. But this thing I cannot, for I have 
 plighted my word deep and fast, and go I must to- 
 night." 
 
 " Tell me," said my aunt, " is it a matter of treason 
 to the King ? " 
 
 Her eyes were eager, expectant. And for very pity 
 of her I hoped that Walter could give her satisfaction 
 on the point. But it was not as I thought, for who 
 can track a woman's heart ? 
 
 " God forbid," said Wat Gordon heartily, as one 
 that is most mightily relieved. 
 
 But his mother fell back and her hands dropped to 
 her side. 
 
 "Then," she said, "it is my Lady Wellwood ! — I 
 had rather a thousand times it had been treason and 
 rebellion — ay, though it had set your head on high 
 beside your father's." 
 
 " Lady Wellwood or another ! " cried Wat, " nor 
 heaven nor hell shall gar me break my tryst this 
 nicht!" 
 
 And without another word Walter Gordon went 
 down the stairs as one that runs defiantly to death, 
 daring both God and man — and, alas ! the mother 
 also that bore him.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 the thing that fell from 
 traitor's gate 
 
 The Lady Lochinvar stood a moment still by the 
 fire, listening, her hand raised as if to command silence. 
 Then she ran to the door like a young lass, with a 
 light foot and her hand on her heart. The steps 
 came fainter up the stair, and in another moment we 
 heard the clang of the outer door. 
 
 My lady turned to me. 
 
 " Have you your pistols by you ? " she whispered 
 in a hoarse and angry voice, clutching me by the 
 lapels of my coat. " Go, man ! Go, follow him ! 
 He rushes to his death. And he is all that I have. 
 Go and save him ! " 
 
 She that had fleeched with her son, like a dove 
 succouring its young, laid harshly her commands 
 upon me. 
 
 "I am no fighter, aunt," I said. "What protec- 
 tion can I be to Walter Gordon, the best sworder in 
 Edinburgh town this night from Holyrood to the 
 Castle ? " 
 
 My lady looked about her as one that sees a stealthy 
 enemy approach. Her hand trembled as she laid it on 
 my arm. 
 
 " What avails good swordsmanship, when one comes 
 behind and one before, as in my dream I saw them do 
 upon my Walter, out of the house of my Lord Well- 
 wood ? They came upon him and left him lying on
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 103 
 
 the snow.— Ah, go, dear cousin William ! " she said, 
 breaking into a sharp cry of entreaty lest I should fail 
 her. " It is you that can save him. But let him not 
 see you follow, or it will make him more bitter against 
 me. For if you cannot play with the sword, you can 
 shoot with the pistol ; so I have heard, and they tell 
 me that no one can shoot so truly as thou. They 
 would not let thee shoot at Kirkcudbright for the 
 Siller Gun though thou art a burgess, because it were 
 no fair game. Is it not true ? " 
 
 And so she stroked and cuitled me with flattery till 
 I declare I purred like our gib cat. I had begun 
 there and then to tell her of my prowess, but that she 
 interrupted me. 
 
 " He goes toward the High Street. Hasten up the 
 South Wynd, and you will overtake him yet ere he 
 comes out upon the open road." 
 
 She thrust two pistols into my belt, which I laid 
 aside again, having mine own more carefully primed 
 with me, to the firing of which my hand was more 
 accustomed — and that to a marksman is more than 
 half the battle. 
 
 When I reached the street the wildness of the ni<rht 
 justified my prophecy. The snow was falling athwart 
 the town in broad wet flakes, driving flat against the 
 face with a splash, before a gusty westerly wind that 
 roared among the tall lums of the steep-gabled houses — 
 a most uncomfortable night to run the risk of getting 
 a dirk in one's ribs. 
 
 I saw my cousin before me, linking on carelessly 
 through the snow with his cloak about his cars and 
 his black-scabbard rapier swinging at his heels. 
 
 But I had to slink behind backs like a Holyrood dyvour 
 — a bankrupt going to the Sanctuary, jooking and
 
 104 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 cowering craftily in the lee-side shadow of the houses. 
 For though so wild a night, it was not very dark. 
 There was a moon up there somewhere among the 
 smother, though she could not get so much as her nose 
 through the wrack of banked snow-cloud which was 
 driving up from the west. Yet Wat could have seen 
 me very black on the narrow strip of snow, had he 
 ever once thought of looking over his shoulder. 
 
 But Wat the Wullcat of Lochinvar was not the one 
 to look behind him when he strode on to keep tryst. 
 I minded his bitter reckless words to his mother, 
 " Heaven and hell shall not make me break my tryst to- 
 night ! " Now Heaven was shut out by the storm and 
 the tall close-built houses, and Walter Gordon had an 
 excellent chance of standing a bout with the other place. 
 
 No doubt my l^ady Wellwood bided at the window 
 and looked out for him to come to her through the 
 snow. And I that had for common no thought of 
 lass or lady, cannot say that I was without my own 
 envying that the love of woman was not for me. Or 
 so at least I thought at that time, even as I shielded 
 my eyes under my bonnet and drave through the snow 
 with the pistols loose in my belt. But Wat of Lochinvar 
 walked defiantly through the black storm with a saucy 
 swing in his carriage, light and careless, which I vouch 
 drew my heart to him as if I had been a young girl. 
 I had given ten years of my life if just so I could have 
 taken the eyes of women. 
 
 As clear as if I had listened to the words I could 
 hear him saying over within himself the last sentence 
 he had used in the controversy with his mother — 
 " Heaven and hell shall not cause me to break my tryst 
 to-night ! " 
 
 Alack ! poor lad, little understood he the resources of 
 either. For he had yet to pass beneath Traitor's Gate.
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE lo:; 
 
 For once the narrow High Street of Edinburgh was 
 clean and white — sheeted down in the clinging snow 
 that would neither melt nor freeze, but only clung to 
 every joint, jut, stoop, and step of the house-fronts, 
 and clogged in lumps on the crockets of the roof. 
 The wind wrestled and roared in great gusts overhead 
 in the black, uncertain, tumultuous night. Then a 
 calm would come, sudden as a curtain-drop in the 
 play-house, and in the hush you could hear the snow 
 sliddering down off the high-pitched roofs of tile. 
 The light of the moon also came in varying wafts and 
 flickers, as the wind blew the clouds alternately thicker 
 and thinner across her face. 
 
 Now I felt both traitor and spy as I tracked my 
 cousin down the brae. Hardly a soul was to be seen, 
 for none loves comfort more than an Edinburgh 
 burgher. And none understands his own weather 
 better. The snow had swept ill-doer and well-doer 
 off the street, cleaner than ever did the city guard — 
 who, by the way, were no doubt warming their frozen 
 toes by the cheerful fireside in some convenient house- 
 of-call. 
 
 So meditating, for a moment I had almost forgotten 
 whither we were going. 
 
 Before us, ere I was aware, loomed up the battle- 
 ments and turrets of the Nether Bow. 'Twas with a 
 sudden stound of the heart that I remembered what it 
 was that ten months and more ago had been set up 
 there. But I am sure that, sharp-set on his love 
 matter, like a beast that hunts nose-down on a hot 
 trail, Wat Gordon had no memory for the decorations 
 of the Nether Bow. For he whistled as he went, and 
 stuck his hand deeper into the breast of his coat. The 
 moon came out as I looked, and for a moment, dark 
 and grisly against the upper brightness, I saw that row
 
 io6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 of traitors' heads which the city folk regarded no more 
 in their coming and going, than the stone gargoyles 
 set in the roof-niches of St. Giles. 
 
 But as soon as Wat went under the blackness of the 
 arch, there came so fierce a gust that it fairly lifted me 
 ofF my feet and dashed me against the wall. Overhead 
 yelled all the mocking fiends of hell, riding slack-rein 
 to a new perdition. The snow swirled tormented, and 
 wrapped us both in its grey smother. Hands seemed 
 to pull at me out of the darkness, lifted me up, and flung 
 me down again on my face in the smoor of the snow. 
 A great access of fear fell on me. As the gust over- 
 passed, I rose, choked and gasping. Overhead I could 
 hear the mighty blast go roaring and howling away 
 among the crags and rocks of Arthur's Seat. 
 
 Then I arose, shook the snow from my dress, 
 glanced at the barrels and cocks of my pistols to see 
 that they were not stopped with snow, and stepped 
 out of the angle of the Bow to look after my cousin. 
 To my utter astonishment, he was standing vi^ithin 
 four feet of me^ He held some dark thing in his 
 hand, and stared open-mouthed at it, as one demented. 
 Without remembering that I had come out at my 
 Lady's bidding to follow Wat Gordon secretly, I stepped 
 up to him till I could look over his shoulder. 
 
 " Walter ! " I said, putting my hand on his arm. 
 
 But he never minded me in the least, nor yet ap- 
 peared surprised to find me there. Only a black and 
 bitter horror sat brooding on his soul. 
 
 He continued to gaze, fascinated, at the dark thing 
 in his hand. 
 
 « God — God — God ! " he sobbed, the horror taking 
 him short in the throat. "Will, do you see this ?" 
 
 Such abject terror never have I heard before nor 
 since in the utterance of any living man.
 
 THE TRAITOR'S GATE 107 
 
 " Do you sec This ? " he said. " See what fell at 
 my feet as I came through the arch of the Bow upon 
 mine errand ! The wind brought it down." 
 
 Above the moon pushed her way upwards, fight- 
 ing hard, breasting the cloud wrack like a labouring 
 ship. 
 
 Her beams fell on the dark Thing in Wat Gordon's 
 hand. 
 
 " Great God I " he shouted again, his eyes start- 
 ing from their sockets, " it is mine own father's 
 HEAD ! " 
 
 And above us the fitful, flying winds nichered and 
 laughed like mocking fiends. 
 
 It was true. I that write, saw it plain. I held it 
 in this very hand. It was the head of Sir John of 
 Lochinvar, against whom, in the last fray, his own son 
 had donned the war-gear. Grizzled, black, the snow 
 cleaving ghastly about the empty eye-holes, the thin 
 beard still straggling snow-clogged upon the chin — it 
 was his own father's head that had fallen at Walter 
 Gordon's feet, and which he now held in his hand. 
 
 Then I remembered, with a shudder of apprehen- 
 sion, his own words so lately spoken — " Heaven and 
 hell shall not cause me to break my tryst to-night." 
 
 Walter Gordon stood rooted there, dazed and dumb- 
 founded, with the Thing in his hand. His fine lace 
 ruffles touched it as the wind blew them. 
 
 I plucked at him. 
 
 " Come," I said, " haste you ! Let us bury it in 
 the Holyrood ere the moon goes down." 
 
 Thus he who boasted himself free of Heaven and 
 Hell, had his tryst broken by the Thing that fell from 
 the ghastly gate on which the traitors' heads are set in 
 a row. And that Thing was the head of the father 
 that begat him.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE BICKER IN THE SNOW 
 
 Then, seeing Walter Gordon both agitated and un- 
 certain which way to turn, I took out of his shaking 
 hands the poor mishandled head, wrapping it in my 
 plaid, and so led the way down the Canongate towards 
 the kirkyard of the Chapel of Holyroodhouse, where it 
 seemed to me most safe to bury the thing that had 
 fallen in such marvellous fashion at our feet that night. 
 
 The place I knew well enough. I had often medi- 
 tated there upon the poor estate of our house. It was 
 half ruinous, and I looked to meet with no man within 
 the precincts on such a night. But short, deceiving, 
 and ostrich-blind are all our hopes, for by going that 
 way I brought us into the greatest danger we could 
 possibly have been in. 
 
 P^or, as we came by the side port of Holyroodhouse, 
 and took the left wynd which leads to the kirkyard, it 
 seemed that I heard the sound of footsteps coming 
 after me. It was still a night of snow, but the blast 
 of flakes was wearing thinner and the wind less gusty. 
 The moon was wading among great white-edged 
 wreaths as though the snows had been driven right 
 up to heaven and were clogging the skies. 
 
 It was I who led, for my cousin, Wat Gordon, 
 being stopped dead in his heart's desire, like a dog 
 quivering for the leap that suddenly gets his death- 
 wound, now went forward as one blind, and staggered
 
 THE BICKER IN THE SNOW 109 
 
 even in the plain places. Also, it was well that I must 
 guide him, for thus I was kept from thinking of the 
 horrid burden I carried. 
 
 We were at the angle of the wall, and going slowly 
 down among the cumbering heaps of rubbish by the 
 dyke-side, when I certainly heard, through the sough- 
 ing of the wind, and the soft swirl of the snow-flakes, 
 the quick trampling of footsteps behind us. It seemed 
 to me that they came from the direction of the 
 Queen's Bathhouse, by which, as I now minded, my 
 Lord Wellwood had built his new house. 
 
 I turned in my tracks, and saw half a dozen of 
 fellows running towards us with their swords drawn ; 
 and one who seemed short of stature and ill at the 
 running, following after them. Then I pulled quickly 
 at Walter's sleeve, and said : 
 
 " Get you to a good posture of defence, or we are 
 both dead men. See behind you ! " 
 
 At this he turned and looked, and the sight seemed 
 wonderfully to steady him. He seemed to come to 
 himself with a kind of joy. I heard him sigh as one 
 that casts ofF a heavy back-burden. For blows were 
 ever mightily refreshing to Wat Gordon's spirits, even 
 as water of Cologne is to a mim-mouthed, spoiled 
 beauty of the Court. 
 
 As for me, I had no joy in blows, and little skill in 
 them, so that my delight was small. Indeed, I felt 
 the lump rise in my throat, and my mouth dried with 
 fear. So that I could hardly keep the tears from 
 running, being heartily sorry for myself because I 
 should never see bonny Earlstoun and my mother 
 again, or any one else in the pleasant south country — 
 and all on a business that I had no concern with, beinof 
 only some night-hawk trokings of Wat Gordon's.
 
 110 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 But even as he glanced about him, Lochinvar saw 
 where we could best engage them ; for in such things 
 he had the captain's eye, swift and inevitable. It was 
 at the angle of the wall, in which is a wide arch- 
 way that leads into the enclosure of the Palace. The 
 snow had drifted round this arch a great sweep of 
 rounded wreaths, and glistened smoothly white in the 
 moonbeams, but the paved gateway itself was blown 
 clear. Wat thrust me behind him, and, throwing 
 down his cloak, cleared his sword arm with a long 
 sobbing intake of breath, which, having a certain 
 great content in it, was curious to hear. 
 
 I stood behind him in the dark of the archway, and 
 there I first laid down my ghastly burden in the 
 corner, wrapping it in my cloak. I made my pistols 
 ready, and also loosened in my belt a broad Italian 
 dagger, shaped like a leaf, wherewith I meant to stick 
 and thrust if any should attempt to run in while I was 
 standing on guard. Between me and the light I 
 could see Walter Gordon, armed in the German 
 fashion, with his rapier in one hand and his dagger in 
 the other. Suddenly, through the hush of waiting, 
 came running footsteps ; and men's figures darkened 
 the moonlight on the snow before the arch. 
 
 "Clash ! " went the rapiers, and I could catch the glit- 
 ter of the fire as it flew from their first onset. Walter 
 poised himself on his feet with a quick alternate 
 balancing movement, keeping his head low between his 
 shoulders, and his rapier point far out. He was in the 
 dark, and those about the mouth of the arch could not 
 well sec at what they were striking, whereas he had 
 them clear against the grey of the moonlit sky. 
 
 Steel had not stricken on steel three times when, 
 swift as the flash of the lightning when it shines from
 
 THE BICKER IN THE SNOW in 
 
 east to west, I saw Wat's long rapier dart out, and a man 
 fell forward towards him, clinking on the stones with 
 the jingle of concealed armour. Yet, armour or no, 
 our Wat's rapier had found its way within. Wat 
 spurned the fellow with his foot, lest in falling he 
 should grip to pull him down, which was a common 
 trick of the time, and indeed sometimes resorted to 
 without a wound. But the dark wet stain his body- 
 left on the cobble-stones as it turned, told us that he 
 was sped surely enough. 
 
 In a moment the others had come up, and the whole 
 archway seemed full of the flicker of flashing swords. 
 Wat's long arm wavered here and there, keeping them 
 all at bay. I could have cried the slogan for pride in 
 him. This was the incomparable sworder indeed, and 
 John Varlet, that misbegotten rogue, had not taught 
 him in vain. 
 
 " Let off ! " he cried to me, never taking his eyes 
 from his foes. " Ease me a little to the right. They 
 are over heavy for my iron on that hand." 
 
 So with that, even as I was bidden, and because there 
 was nothing else I could do, I struck with my broad 
 Italian dagger at a surly visage that came cornerwise 
 between me and the sky, and tumbled a tall fellow out 
 of an angle of the gateway on the top of the first, kick- 
 ing like a rabbit. The rest were a little dashed by the 
 fall of these two. Still there were four of them, and 
 one great loon determinedly set his head down, and 
 wrapping his cloak on his arm, he rushed at my 
 cousin, almost overbearing him for the moment. He 
 broke within Wat's guard, and the swords of the rogue's 
 companions had been in his heart, but just then Loch- 
 invar gave them another taste of his quality. Lightly 
 leaping to the side just out of the measure of the
 
 112 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 varlet's thrust, and reaching sideways, he struck the 
 man heavily on the shoulder with the dagger in his left 
 hand, panting with the force of the blow, so that he fell 
 down like the dead. At the same moment Wat leaned 
 far forward, engaging all the points of the other swords 
 with his rapier 
 
 They gave back at the quick unexpected attack, and 
 the points of their swords rose, as it seemed, for no 
 more than a second. But in that pulse-beat Wat's 
 rapier shot out straight and low, and yet another 
 clapped his hand upon his body and cried an oath, ere 
 he too fell forward upon his dead companions. At this 
 the little man, who had stood all the while in the back- 
 ground, took heart of grace and came forward, and I 
 could see the hilt of the steel-pistol in his hand. He 
 crouched low upon his hams, trying to get a sighting 
 shot at us. But I had him clear in the moonbeam, 
 like a pullet on a dyke ; and just when I saw his fore- 
 finger twitch on the hammer-pull, I dropped him with 
 a bullet fair in the shoulder, which effectually spoilt his 
 aim, and tumbled him beside the others. 
 
 Then the remaining two threw down their tools and 
 ran, whatever they were fit, in the direction of the 
 town. 
 
 Whereat Walter Gordon with much philosophy 
 straiked his sword on the lapel of one of the dead 
 men's coats, bent its point to the pavement to try 
 its soundness, and returned it to its velvet sheath. 
 Then he solemnly turned and took me by the hand. 
 
 " You are a man, Cousin William," he said.
 
 CHAPTER XVI, 
 
 THE GREY MOWDIEWORT 
 
 But by this time I was shaking like a leaf for fear, 
 together with the thought of what I had done in the 
 taking of life, and the sending of my fellow-creatures 
 to their account. Also the tears came hopping down 
 my cheek, which is ever the effect that fighting has on 
 me. Yet in spite of this weakness Wat shook me 
 again by the hand, and said only : 
 
 " You are a man ! " 
 
 Notwithstanding, I was not cheered, but continued 
 to greet like a bairn, only quietly, though I was grate- 
 ful for his words, and took them not ill. 
 
 Then Walter Gordon went forward to the dead 
 men, and turned them over, looking at each but saying 
 no word. Lastly, he went to the little stout man whom 
 I had shot in the shoulder. As he looked in his face, 
 from which the mask had fallen aside, he started so 
 greatly that he almost leaped bodily in the air 
 
 "William, William," he cried, "by the King's 
 head, we must run for it ! This is not a * horning * 
 but a hanging job. 'TiV the Duke of JVclhuood him- 
 self \'' 
 
 Greatly startled at the name of the great Privy 
 Councillor and favourite of the King, I went and 
 looked. The man's face had fallen clear of the velvet 
 mask with which it had been hidden, and looked livid 
 and grey against the snow in the moon's uncertain 
 
 H
 
 114 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 light. But it was indeed the Duke, for I had often 
 seen him s:oin2: to the Parhament in his state and 
 dignity, but there in the snow he looked inconceivably 
 mean, dirtv and small. 
 
 "It's a' by wi' the estate noo, Walter," I said. 
 *' You and me maun tak' the heather like the lave." 
 
 So saying, I snatched up the head wrapped in the 
 plaid, which I had almost forgotten, and called him to 
 come on. For we were on the outskirts of the v/aste 
 ground called the King's hunting parks, and could get 
 directly away without passing a house. 
 
 But Walter was determined to return and see his 
 mother, lest otherwise the horror of the news might 
 take her unawares. Walter was ever his mother's boy, 
 and I think his undutiful conduct that night now 
 went hard with him, seeing how the affair had turned 
 out. 
 
 I argued with him that it was the maddest ploy 
 thus to go back. His lodgings would certainly be 
 searched as soon as the Duke was found, and the two 
 who had escaped should return to assist the watch. 
 But I could not overcome his determination. He 
 had another plan to set against mine. 
 
 *' There is a vault hereabout that I used to hide in 
 as a boy. Silly folk say that it is haunted. But 
 indeed there be few that know of it. You can bide 
 there and wait till I come." 
 
 So we went thither, and found the place commodious 
 enough indeed, but damp and unkindly. It was situate 
 by the chapel wall, but of late years it has been much 
 filled up with rubbish since the pulling down of 
 the Chapel Royal by the mob in the riots of the 
 Revolution year. 
 
 Yet even at that time it was not a place I had any
 
 THE GREY MOWDIEWORT 115 
 
 stomach for. I had Hefer have been going decently to 
 my bed in my lodgings in the West Bow — as indeed 
 at that moment I should, bat for that daft heathercat 
 of a cousin of mine, with whose gallantries, for my 
 sins, I thus found myself saddled. 
 
 So he went off upon his errand, leaving me alone ; 
 and I hardly looked to see him again, for I made sure 
 that the guard would arrest him or ever he had gone 
 a hundred yards. It was little that I could do in that 
 sorrowful place. But I unwrapped the poor head I 
 had brought with me, and put it with reverence in the 
 farthest corner of the dismal den. Then I retired to 
 an angle to wait, wrapping my plaid about me for 
 warmth ; for the night had fallen colder, as it ever 
 does after the ceasing of a storm. 
 
 I had time and to spare then for thinking upon my 
 folly, and how I had damaged the cause that I had so 
 nearly gained by my unlucky interference in Walter's 
 vanities. It came to me that now of a certainty both 
 Earlstoun and Lochinvar must pass wholly away 
 from the Gordons, and we become attainted and 
 landless like the red Gregors. And indeed Kenmuir's 
 case was not much better. 
 
 So I wore the weary night away, black dismal 
 thoughts eating like canker-worms at my heart. How 
 I repented and prayed, no man knows. For that is the 
 young man's repentance — after he has eaten the sour 
 fruit, to pray that he may not have the stomach-ache. 
 
 Yet being Galloway-born, I had also in me the fear 
 of the unseen, which folk call superstition. And it 
 irked me more than all other fears to have to bide all 
 the night (and I knew not how much longer) in that 
 horrible vault. 
 
 It seems little enough to some, only to abide all night
 
 ii6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 in a place where there is nothing but quiet bones of 
 dead men. But, I warrant you, it is the burgher folk, 
 who have never lain anywhere but bien and cosy in their 
 own beds at home, that are the boldest in saying this. 
 
 So the night sped slowly in that horrid tomb. I 
 watched the white moonbeams spray over the floor 
 and fade out, as the clouds swept clear or covered the 
 moon's face. I listened to every sough of the wind, 
 with a fear lest the clanking halberts of the watch 
 should be in it. The sound of a man walking far 
 away made me hear in fantasy the grounding of their 
 axe-shafts as they surrounded my place of concealment. 
 It is bad enough to have one's conscience against one, 
 but when conscience is reinforced by a well-grounded 
 fear of the hangman's rope, then the case grows un- 
 couth indeed. 
 
 Yet in spite of all I think I slept a little. For once 
 I waked and saw the moon, red and near the setting, 
 shining through a great round hole in the end of the 
 vault, and that so brightly that I seemed to see motes 
 dancing in its light as in a hayloft in the summer season. 
 
 But that was not the worst of it. In my dream 
 my eyes followed the direction of the broad beam, and 
 lo ! they fell directly on the poor blackened head of 
 him that had once been John Gordon of Lochinvar. 
 The suns and rains had not dealt kindly with him, 
 and now the face looked hke nothing earthly, as I saw 
 it in the moonlight of the ugsome vault. I could 
 have screamed aloud, for there seemed to be a frown 
 on the brow and a writhed grin on the mouth that 
 boded me irksome evils to come. 
 
 Now half-a-dozen times I have resolved to leave out 
 of my tale, that which I then saw happen in my dream 
 of the night. P'or what I am about to relate may not
 
 THE GREY MOWDIEWORT 117 
 
 meet with belief in these times, when the power of 
 Satan is mercifully restrained ; and when he can no 
 longer cast his glamourie over whom he will, but only 
 over those who, like witch-wives and others, yield 
 themselves up to him as his willing subjects. 
 
 But I shall tell plainly what, in the moonlight, 
 seemed to me to befall in my dream-sleep. 
 
 It appeared then to me that I was staring at the 
 blackened head, with something rising and falling in 
 my throat like water in a sobbing well, when the 
 ground slowly stirred in the corner where the head lay, 
 and even as I looked, a beast came forth — a grey beast 
 with four legs, but blind of eye Hke a grey mowdiewort, 
 which took the head between its fore-paws and rocked 
 it to and fro as a mother rocks a fretful bairn, sorrow- 
 ing over it and pitying it. It was a prodigy to see the 
 eyes looking forth from the bone-sockets of the head. 
 Then the beast left it again lying by its lone and went 
 and digged in the corner. As the moonlight swept 
 across, broad and slow, through the loud beating of my 
 heart, I heard the grey mowdiewort dig the hole deeper 
 and yet deeper. Now the thing that made me fullest 
 of terror was not the digging of the beast, but the 
 manner of its throwing out the earth, which w^as not 
 behind it as a dog does, but in front, out of the pit, 
 as a sexton that digs a grave. 
 
 Then, ere the moonbeams quite left it and began to 
 climb the wall, I seemed to see the beast roll the black 
 Thing to the edge and cover it up, drawing the earth 
 over it silently. After that, in my fantasy, it seemed 
 to look at me. I heard the quick patter of its feet, 
 and with a cry of fear I started up to flee, lest the 
 beast should come towards me — and with that I knew 
 no more.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 OVER THE MUIR AMANG THE HEATHER 
 
 When I came to myself my cousin Walter Gordon 
 was standing over me. He was dressed in country- 
 man's apparel, and seemed most like a chapman, with a 
 small pack of goods upon his back for sale in the farm- 
 towns and cottars' houses. It was grey day. 
 
 *' Where is the beast ? " I asked, for I was greatly 
 bewildered by my swound. 
 
 " What beast ? There is no beast," he replied, 
 thinking that I dreamed. 
 
 Then I told him of what I had seen ; but as I 
 might have expected he took little heed, thinking that 
 I did but dream in that uncouth place. And in the 
 grey light he went forward with a fair white cloth in 
 his hand wherewith to wrap his father's head for the 
 burial. But when he came to the corner of the vault, 
 lo ! there was naught there, even as I had said. And 
 saving that the earth seemed newly stirred, no trace of 
 the horror I had seen, which staggered him no little. 
 Yet me it did not surprise, for I knew what I had 
 seen. 
 
 But in a little he said, " That is all folly, William — 
 you and your beasts. Ye buried it yourself in your 
 sleep. How many times have ye walked the ramparts 
 of Earlstoun in your sark ! " 
 
 This indeed seemed likely, but I still maintain that 
 I saw the mowdiewort.
 
 AMANG THE HEATHER 119 
 
 Nevertheless, when we came to consider the matter, 
 it was in sooth no time to think of freits or portents. 
 It was no question of our fathers' heads. Our own 
 were in danger whether the Duke of Wellwood Hved 
 or died ; and we behoved to look limber if we were to 
 save them at all. It is a strange feeHng that comes and 
 stays about the roots of the neck, when one first realises 
 that the headsman may have to do therewith or many 
 weeks pass by. And it is a feeling that I have taken 
 to bed with me for years at a time. 
 
 Wat Gordon had warned my men as well as his 
 own. So at the outside of the town toward the back 
 of the Boroughmuir, Hugh Kerr met us with the 
 beasts. Here we took horse and rode, having happily 
 seen nothing of the city guard. It was judged best that 
 my cousin and I should ride alone. This we wished, 
 because we knew not v/hom to trust in the strange 
 case in which we found ourselves. Besides we could 
 the better talk over our chances during the long night 
 marches in the wilderness, and in our v/eary hidings 
 among the heather in the daytime. 
 
 So we steadily rode southward toward Galloway, 
 our own country, for there alone could we look for 
 some ease from the long arm of the Privy Council. 
 Not that Galloway was safe. The dragoons paraded 
 up and down it from end to end, and searched every 
 nook and crevice for intercommuned fugitives. But 
 Galloway is a wide, wild place where the raw edges of 
 creation have not been rubbed down. And on one 
 hillside in the Dungeon of Buchan, there are as many 
 lurking-places as Robert Grier of Lag has sins on 
 his soul — which is saying no light thing, the Lord 
 knows. 
 
 Once, as we went stealthily by night, we came upon
 
 120 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 a company of muirland men who kept their conventicle 
 in the hollows of the hills, and when they heard us 
 coming they scattered and ran like hares. I cried 
 out to them that we were of their own folk. Yet 
 they answered not but only ran all the faster, for we 
 might have been informers, and it was a common 
 custom of such-like to claim to be of the hill-people. 
 Even dragoons did so, and had been received among 
 them to the hurt of many. 
 
 Our own converse was the strangest thing. Often 
 a kind of wicked perverse delight came over me, and 
 I took speech to mock and stir up my cousin of Loch- 
 invar, who was moody and distraught, which was very 
 far from his wont. 
 
 " Cousin Wat," I said to him, *' 'tis a strange sight 
 to see your mother's son so soon of the strict opinions. 
 To be converted at the instance of her Grace of Well- 
 wood is no common thing. Wat, I tell thee, thou 
 shalt lead the psalm-singing at a conventicle yet I " 
 
 Whereat he would break out on me, calling me 
 "crop-ear" and other names. But at this word-play 
 I had, I think, as much the mastery as he at the play 
 of sword-blades. 
 
 " Rather it is you shall be the * crop-head' — of the 
 same sort as his late Majesty ! " I said. For it is a 
 strange thing that so soon as men are at peril of their 
 lives, if they be together, they will begin to jest about 
 it — young men at least. 
 
 To get out of the country was now our aim. It 
 pleased Wat not at all to have himself numbered among 
 the hill-folk and be charged with religion. For me 
 I had often a sore heart and a bad conscience, that I 
 had made so little of all my home opportunities. My 
 misspent Sabbaths stuck in my throat, although I had
 
 AMANG THE HEATHER 121 
 
 no stomach for running and hiding with the inter- 
 communed. Perhaps, if I had loved my brother Sandy 
 better, it had not been so hard a matter. But that, 
 God forgive me, I never did, though I knew that he 
 was a good Covenant man and true to his principles. 
 Yet there is no mistake but that he gave us all a 
 distaste at his way of thinking. 
 
 So we wandered by night and hid by day till we 
 reached the hills of our own south country. 
 
 At last we came to the white house of Gordonstoun, 
 which stands on the hill above the clachan of Saint 
 John. It was a lodge of my cousin's, and the keeper 
 of it was a true man, Matthew of the Dub by name. 
 P'rom him we learned that there were soldiers both at 
 Lochinvar and Earlstoun. Moreover, the news had 
 come that very day, with the riding post from Edin- 
 burgh, of the wounding of the Duke of Wellwood, 
 and how both of us were put to the horn and declared 
 outlaw. 
 
 I do not think that this affected us much, for 
 almost every man in Galloway, even those that 
 trooped with Graham and Lag, half-a-dozen in all, 
 had been time and again at the horn. One might be 
 at the horn — that is, outlawed, for forgetting to pay 
 a cess or tax, or for a private little tulzie that con- 
 cerned nobody, or for getting one's lum on fire almost. 
 It was told that once Lauderdale himself was put to 
 the horn in the matter of a reckoning he had been 
 slack in paying, for Seekin' Johnnie was ever better 
 at drawing in than paying out. 
 
 But to think of my mother being harassed with a 
 garrison, and to know that rough blades clattered in 
 and out of our bien house of Earlstoun, pleased me 
 not at all. Yet it was far out of my hap to help it.
 
 122 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 And I comforted me with the thought, that it had 
 been as bad as it could be with us, even before our 
 afFray with the Welhvood. 
 
 So there was nothing for it, but to turn out our 
 horses to grass at Gordonstoun and take to the hills 
 like the rest. Matthew of the Dub gave us to under- 
 stand that he could put us into a safe hold if we would 
 trust ourselves to him. 
 
 " But it is among the hill-folk o' Balmaghie ! " he 
 said, looking doubtfully at his laird. 
 
 " Ah, Gordieston," said Lochinvar, making a wry 
 face, and speaking reproachfully, "needs must when 
 the devil drives ! But what for did you sign all the 
 papers and take all the oaths against intercommuning, 
 and yet all the time be having to do with rebels ? " 
 For Matthew was a cunning man, and had taken all 
 the King's oaths as they came along, holding the 
 parritch and feather beds of Gordieston on the Hill 
 worth any form of words whatsoever — which indeed 
 could be swallowed down like an apothecary's bolus, 
 and no more ado about it. 
 
 "'Deed, your honour," said Matthew of the Dub, 
 slyly, " it's a wersh breakfast to streek your neck in 
 a tow, an' I hae sma' stammach for the Whig's ride 
 to the Grassmarket. But a man canna juist turn 
 informer an' gie the gang- by to a' his auld acquaint- 
 ances. Wha in Gallowa' wants to ride an' mell wi' 
 Clavcrs an' the lads on the Grey Horses, save siccan 
 loons as red-wud Lag, roaring Baldoun, and Lidder- 
 dale, the Hullion o' the Isle ? " 
 
 " I would have you remember, Matthew," said my 
 cousin, speaking in Scots, " that I rode wi' them no 
 lang syne mysel'." 
 
 "Ou, ay, I ken," said independent Matthew, dourly,
 
 AMANG THE HEATHER 123 
 
 *' there v/as my Leddy to thank for that. The women 
 fowk arc a' great gomerils when they meddle vvi' the 
 affairs o' the State. But a' the Glen jaloosed that ye 
 wad come oot richt, like the daddy o' ye, when ye 
 tired o' leading-strings, an' gang to the horn like an 
 honest man, e'en as ye hae dune the day."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII ^ 
 
 AULD ANTON OF THE DUCHRAE 
 
 It was a wintry-like morning in the later spring 
 when at last we got out of hiding in the house of 
 Gordonstoun. During our stay there I had often gone 
 to see my mother just over the hill at Earlstoun, to 
 give her what comfort I could, and in especial to 
 advise about Sandy, who was then on his travels in 
 the Low Countries. That morning Matthew of the 
 Dub came with us, and we took our legs to it, despis- 
 ing horses in our new quality of hill-folk. The wind 
 blew bitter and snell from the east. And May — the 
 bleakest of spring months, that ought to be the bon- 
 niest — was doing her worst to strengthen the cold, in 
 proportion as she lengthened her unkindly days. 
 
 Matthew told us not whither we were going, and 
 as for me, I had no thought or suspicion. Yet the 
 tear was in my eye as we saw the bonny woods of 
 Earlstoun lying behind us, with the grey head of the 
 old tower setting its chin over the tree-tops and look- 
 ing wistfully after us. 
 
 But we marched south along the Ken, by New 
 Galloway, and the seat of my Lord Kenmuir, where 
 there was now a garrison with Clavers himself in hold. 
 We saw the loch far beneath us, for we had to keep 
 high on the side of Bennan. It ruffled its breast as 
 a dove's feathers are blown awry by a sudden gusty 
 wind. It was a cheerless day, and the gloom on our
 
 AULD ANTON OF THE DUCHRAE 125 
 
 faces was of the deepest. For we were in the weird 
 case of suffering for conscience's sake, and with no 
 great raft either of conscience or of religion to com- 
 fort us. 
 
 Not that our case was uncommon. For all were not 
 saints who hated tyranny. 
 
 " Wat," I said, arguing the matter, " the thing gangs 
 in the husk o' a hazel. I wear a particular make of glove 
 chevron. It likes me well, but I am not deadly set 
 on it. Comes the Baron-bailie or my Lord Provost, 
 and saith he : ' Ye shall not henceforth wear that glove 
 of thine, but one of my colour and of the fashion 
 official ! ' Then says I to the Baron-bailie, ' To the 
 111 Thief wi' you and your pattern gauntlet ! ' And 
 I take him naturally across the cheek with it, and 
 out with my whinger " 
 
 " Even so," said my cousin, who saw not whither I 
 was leading him, "let no man drive you as to the 
 fashion of your gloves. Out with your whinger, and 
 see what might be the colour of his blood I " 
 
 " And what else are the Covenant men doing ? " 
 cried I, quick to take advantage. " We were none so 
 fond o' the Kirk that I ken of — we that are of the 
 lairds o' Galloway, when we could please ourselves 
 when and where we would go. Was there one of us, 
 save maybe your father and mine, that had not been 
 sessioned time and again ? Many an ill word did we 
 speak o' the Kirk, and many a glint did we cast at the 
 sandglass in the pulpit as the precentor gied her another 
 turn. But after a' the Kirk was oor ain mither, and 
 what for should the King misca' or upturn her ? Gin 
 she whummelt us, and peyed us soondly till we clawed 
 where we werena yeuky, wha's business was that but 
 oor ain ? But comes King Charlie, and says he, ' Pit
 
 J26 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 awa' your old mither, that's overly sore on you, an' tak' 
 this braw easy step-minnie, that will never steer ye a 
 hair or gar ye clav/ your hinderlands ! ' What w^ad ye 
 say, Wat ? What say ye, Wat ? Wad ye gie your 
 mither up for the King's word ? " 
 
 " No," said Wat, sullenly, for now he saw where he 
 was being taken, and liked it little, " I wadna." 
 
 I thought I had him, and so, logically, I had. But 
 he was nothing but a dour, donnert soldier, and valued 
 good logic not a docken. 
 
 " Hear me," he said, after a moment's silence ; " this 
 is my way of it. I am no preacher, and but poor at 
 the practice. But I learned, no matter where, to be 
 true to the King — and, mind you, even now I stand 
 by Charles Stuart, though at the horn I be. Even now 
 I have no quarrel with him, though for the dirty sake 
 of the Duke of Wellwood, he has one with me." 
 
 *' That's as may be," I returned ; " but mind where 
 you are going. Ye will be eating the bread of them 
 that think differently, and surely ye'll hae the sense 
 and the mense to keep a calm sough, an' your tongue 
 far ben within your teeth." 
 
 We were passing the ford of the Black Water as I 
 was speaking, and soon we came to the steading of the 
 Little Duchrae in the light of the morning. It was 
 a long, low house, well thatched, like all the houses in 
 the neighbourhood. And it was sending up a heartsome 
 pew of reek into the air, that told of the stir of break- 
 fast. The tangle of the wood grew right up to the 
 windows of the back, and immediately behind the 
 house there was a little morass with great willow-trees 
 growing and many hiding-places about it — as well I 
 knew, for there Maisie Lennox and I had often played 
 the day by the length.
 
 AiJLD ANTON OF THE DUCHRAE 127 
 
 Now " Auld Anton " of the Duchrae was a kenned 
 man all over the countryside. The name of Anthony- 
 Lennox of Duchrae was often on my father's lips, and 
 not seldom he would ride off to the south in the high 
 days of Presbytery, to have fellowship with him when- 
 ever he was low in the spirit, and also before our stated 
 seasons of communion. Thither also I had often 
 ridden in later years on other errands, as has already 
 been said. 
 
 Never had I been able to understand, by what extra- 
 ordinary favour Anthony Lennox had not only been 
 able to escape so far himself, but to afford a house of 
 refuge to others in even more perilous plight. Upon 
 the cause of this immunity there is no need at present 
 to condescend, but certain it is that the house of the 
 Duchrae had been favoured above most, owing to an 
 influence at that time hidden from me. For Auld 
 Anton was never the man to hide his thoughts or to 
 set a curb upon his actions. 
 
 With a light hand Matthev/ of the Dub knocked at 
 the door, which was carefully and immediately opened. 
 A woman of a watchful and rather severe countenance 
 presented herself there — a serving woman, but evi- 
 dently one accustomed to privilege and equality, as was 
 common in Galloway at that day. 
 
 "Matthew Welsh," she said, "what brings you so 
 far from hame so early in the morning ? " 
 
 " I come wi' thae twa callants — young Gordon o' 
 Earlstoun, and a young man that is near kin to him. 
 It may be better to gie the particulars the go-by till I 
 see you more privately. Is the good man about the 
 doors ? " 
 
 For answer the woman went to the window at the 
 back and cried thrice. Instantly we saw a little cloud
 
 128 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 of men disengage themselves irregularly from the 
 bushes and come towards the door. Then began a 
 curious scene. The woman ran to various hiding- 
 places under the eaves, behind dressers, in aumries and 
 presses, and set a large number of bowls of porridge on 
 the deal table. Soon the house was filled with the stir 
 of men and the voices of folk in earnest conversation. 
 
 Among them all I was chiefly aware of one young 
 man of very striking appearance, whose dark hair 
 flov/ed back from a broad brow, white as a lady's, and 
 who looked like one born to command. On the faces 
 of many of the men who entered and overflowed the 
 little kitchen of the Duchrae, was the hunted look of 
 them that oftentimes glance this way and that for a 
 path of escape. But on the face of this man was only a 
 free soldierly indifference to danger, as of one who had 
 passed through many perils and come forth scathless. 
 
 Last of all the Master of the House entered with 
 the familiarity of the well-accustomed. He was alert 
 and active, a man of great height, yet holding himself 
 like a soldier. Three counties knew him by his long 
 grey beard and bushy eyebrows for Anthony Lennox, 
 one of the most famous leaders of the original United 
 Societies. To me he was but Maisie Lennox's father, 
 and indeed he had never wared many words on a boy 
 such as I seemed to him. 
 
 But now he came and took us both by the hand in 
 token of welcome, and to me in especial he was full of 
 warm feeling. 
 
 "" You are welcome, young sir," he said. " Many 
 an hour at the dyke-back have we had, your father and 
 I, praying for our bairns and for poor Scotland. Alack 
 that 1 left him on the way to BothvvcU last year and 
 rode forward to tulzie wi' Robin Hamilton— and now
 
 AULD ANTON OF THE DUCHRAE 129 
 
 he lies in his quiet resting grave, an' Auld Anton is 
 still here fighting away among the contenders." 
 
 With Walter also he shook hands, and gave him the 
 welcome that one true man gives to another. Lochin- 
 var sat silent and watchful in the strange scene. For 
 me I seemed to be in a familiar place, for Earlstoun 
 was on every tongue. And it was not for a little that 
 I came to know that they meant my brother Sandy, 
 who was a great man among them — greater than ever 
 my father had been, though he had " sealed his testi- 
 mony with his blood," as their phrase ran. 
 
 I thought it best not to give my cousin's name, 
 excusing myself in the meantime by vouching that his 
 father had suffered to the death, even as mine had done, 
 for the cause and honour of Scotland's Covenant.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE SWEET SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 
 
 Now my father had drilled it into me that Anton 
 Lennox, called the Covenanter, was a good and sound- 
 hearted man, even as he was doubtless a manifest and 
 notable Christian. But the tale concerning him that 
 most impressed me and touched my spirit nearest, was 
 the tale of how he served Muckle John Gib and his 
 crew, after godly Mr. Cargill had delivered them over 
 to Satan. 
 
 It was Sandy, my brother, that was the eye-witness 
 of the affair. He was ever of the extreme opinion — 
 as my mother used often to say, "our Sandy was 
 either in the moon or the midden " — but in my 
 judgment oftenest in the latter. 
 
 Yet I will never deny that he has had a great deal 
 of experience, though I would rather want than have 
 some of it. Now at this time, Sandy, perhaps by 
 means of his wife, Jean Hamilton (who, like her 
 brother Robert, was just inordinate for preachings 
 and prophesyings), was much inclined to kick over 
 the traces, and betake himself to the wilder extremes 
 that were much handled by our enemies for the 
 purpose of bringing discredit on the good name of the 
 Covenants. 
 
 There was one great hulking sailor of Borrow- 
 stounncss that was specially afflicted with these visions 
 and maundcrings. Nothing but his own crazy will in
 
 SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 131 
 
 all things could satisfy him. He withdrew himself into 
 the waste with two or three men and a great company 
 of feeble-minded women, and there renounced all 
 authority and issued proclamations of the wildest and 
 maddest kinds. 
 
 The godly and devout Air. Donald Cargill (as 
 he was called, for his real name was Duncan) was 
 much exercised about the matter. And findino- himself 
 in the neighbourhood to which these people had 
 betaken themselves, he spared no pains, but with 
 much and sore foot-travel he found them out, and 
 entered into conference with them. But John Gib, 
 who could be upon occasion a most faceable and 
 plausible person, persuaded him to abide with them 
 for a night. Which accordingly he did, but having 
 wrestled with them in prayer and communing half the 
 night, and making nothing of them, presently he rose 
 and went out into the fields most unhappy. So after 
 long wandering he came homeward, having failed in his 
 mission. Then it was that he told the matter to old 
 Anton Lennox, who had come from Galloway to 
 attend the great Societies' Meeting at Howmuir. 
 With him at the time was my brother Sandy, and 
 here it is that Sandy's story was used to commence. 
 
 And of all Sandy's stories it was the one I liked 
 best, because there was the least chance of his having 
 anything about himself to tell. 
 
 " I mind the day " — so he began — " a fine heart- 
 some harvest day in mid-September. We had our 
 crop in early that year, and Anton, my father and I, 
 had gotten awa' betimes to the Societies' Meeting at 
 Lesmahago. It was in the earliest days of them — for 
 ye maun mind that I am one o' the few surviving 
 original members. We were a' sitting .-^t our duty,
 
 1^2 
 
 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 when in there came into the farm kitchen where we 
 abode, Mr. Donald Cargill himself. He was leaning 
 upon his staff, and his head was hanging down. We 
 desisted from our worship and looked at him stead- 
 fastly, for we saw that the hand of the Lord had been 
 upon him and that for grief. So we waited for the 
 delivery of his testimony. 
 
 " ' My heart is heavy,' he said at long and last, ' for 
 the people of the wilderness are delivered over to the 
 gainsayer, and that by reason of John Gib, called 
 Muckle John, sailor in Borrowstounness, and presently 
 leading the silly folk astray.' Then he told them 
 how he had wrestled with the Gibbites mightily in 
 the Spirit, and had been overthrown. Whereat he 
 was notified that the hearts of all those that hated 
 the Way would be lifted up. 
 
 " He also brought a copy of the foolish sheet called 
 the ' Proclamation of the Sweet Singers,' which was 
 much handed about among all the persecutors at this 
 time, and made to bring terrible discredit on the sober 
 and God-fearing folk of the South and West, who 
 had nothing whatever to do with the matter. 
 
 "'Let me see it,' said Anton Lennox, holding out 
 his hand for it. 
 
 "Mr. Cargill gave it to him, saying sadly, ' The 
 Spirit will not always strive with them ! ' 
 
 " ' Na,' said Auld Anton, " but I'll e'en strive wi' 
 them mysel' ! Reek me doon Clickie ! ' 
 
 " He spoke of his great herd's stave that had a 
 shank of a yard and a half long and was as thick as 
 my wrist. 
 
 " ' Come you, Sandy,' he cried over his shoulder as 
 he strode out, 'and ye will get your bellyful of Sweet 
 Singing this day ! '
 
 SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 133 
 
 " Now I did not want to move, for the exercise was 
 exceeding pleasant. But my father also bade me go 
 with Auld Anton, and as you know, it was not easy to 
 say nay to my father. 
 
 "It was over a moor that we took our way — 
 silent because all the wild birds had by with their 
 nesting, and where Mr. Cargill had left the com- 
 pany of John Gib was in a very desert place where 
 two counties met. But Auld Anton went stegging* 
 over the hills, till I was fair driven out of my breath. 
 And ever as he went he drove his stafF deeper and 
 dourer into the sod. 
 
 " It was a long season before we arrived at the 
 place, but at last we came to the top of a little brow- 
 face, and stood looking at the strange company 
 gathered beneath us. 
 
 " There was a kind of moss-hag of dry peat, wide 
 and deep, yet level along the bottom. Down upon 
 the black coom was a large company of women all 
 standing close together and joining their hands. A 
 little way apart on a mound of peat in the midst, 
 stood a great hulk of a fellow, with a gown upon 
 him, like a woman's smock, of white linen felled with 
 purple at the edges. But whenever it blew aside with 
 the wind, one saw underneath the sailor's jerkin of 
 rough cloth with the bare tanned skin of the neck 
 showing through. 
 
 "'Certes, Master Anton,' said I, 'but yon is a 
 braw chiel, him wi' the broad hat and the white cock 
 ontill the bob o't ! ' 
 
 And indeed a brave, braw, blythesome-like man he 
 was, for all the trashery of his attire. He kept good 
 
 * Walking rapidly with long steps.
 
 134 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 order among the men and women that companied with 
 him in the Deer-Slunk. There were thirty of them — 
 twenty-six being women — many of them very respect- 
 able of family, that had been led away from their duty 
 by the dangerous, persuading tongue of John Gib. 
 But Auld Anton looked very grim as he stood a 
 moment on the knowe-top and watched them, and he 
 took a shorter grip of the cudgel he carried in his 
 hand. It was of black crab-tree, knotted and grievous. 
 
 "'John Gib ! ' cried Anton Lennox from the hill- 
 lop suddenly, in a loud voice. 
 
 " The great sea slug of a man in the white petticoat 
 turned slowly round, and looked at us standing on the 
 parched braeface with no friendly eye. 
 
 " ' Begone — ye are the children of the devil — begone 
 to your father ! ' he cried back. 
 
 " ' Belike — ^John Gib — belike, but bide a wee — I 
 am coming down to have a word or two with you as 
 to that ! ' replied Auld Anton ; and his look had a 
 smile in it, that was sour as the crab-apples which 
 his cudgel would have borne had it bidden in the 
 hedfje-root. 
 
 
 I have come,' he said slowly and tartly, ' that I 
 might converse seriously with you, John Gib, and 
 that concerning the way you have treated Mr. Donald 
 Cargill, an honoured servant of the Lord ! ' 
 
 "' Poof! ' cried John Gib, standing up to look at 
 us, while the women drew themselves together angrily 
 to whisper, ' speak not to us of ministers. We deny 
 them every one. We have had more comfort to our 
 souls since we had done with ministers and elders, 
 with week-days and fast-days, and Bibles and Sabbaths, 
 and came our ways out here by ourselves to the deeps 
 of the Deer-Slunk ! '
 
 SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 135 
 
 " ' Nay,' said Old Anton, ' ministers indeed are not 
 all they might be. But v/ithout them, ye have proved 
 yourself but a blind guide leading the blind, John Gib ! 
 Ye shall not long- continue sound in the faith or 
 straight in the way if ye v/ant faithful guides ! But 
 chiefly for the fashion in which ye have used Mr. 
 Cargill, am I come to wrestle with you,' cried Anton. 
 
 *' ' He is but an hireling," shouted Muckle John 
 Gib, making his white gown flutter. 
 
 "'Yea, Yea, and Amen!' cried the women that 
 were at his back. But Davie Jamie, Walter Ker, 
 and John Young, the other three men who were with 
 him, looked very greatly ashamed and turned away 
 their faces — as indeed they had great need. 
 
 " 'Stand up like men ! David Jamie, Walter Ker, 
 and John Young ! ' cried Anton to them, ' do ye bide 
 to take part with these silly v/oraen and this hulker 
 from the bilboes, or v/ill ye return with me to good 
 doctrine and wholesome correction ? ' 
 
 " But the three men answered not a word, looking 
 most like men surprised in a shameful thing and 
 without their needful garments. 
 
 " ' Cargill me no Cargills ! ' said John Gib ; ' he is 
 a traitor, a led captain and an hireling. He deserted 
 the poor and went to another land. He came to us, 
 yet neither preached to us nor prayed with us.' 
 
 "John Young looked about him as John Gib said 
 this, as though he would have contradicted him had 
 he dared. But he was silent again and looked at the 
 ground. 
 
 "'Nay,' said Auld Anton, 'that is a lie, John Gib; 
 for I know that he offered to preach to you, standing 
 with his Bible open between his hands as is his 
 ordinary. But ye v/anted him to promise to confine
 
 136 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 his preaching to you — which when he would not 
 consent to do, ye were for thrusting him out. And 
 he came home, wet and weary, with the cold easterly 
 wet fog all night upon the muir, very melancholy, 
 and with great grief for you all upon his spirit ! ' 
 
 "Then at this John Gib became suddenly very 
 furious and drew a pistol upon us. This made Anton 
 Lennox laugh. 
 
 "'I shall come down and wrestle with your pistolsi 
 in a wee, John Gib. But I have a word to say to 
 you all first.' 
 
 " He stood awhile and looked at them with con- 
 tempt as if they were the meanest wretches under 
 heaven, as indeed they were. 
 
 " ' You, John Gib, that lay claim to being a wizard, 
 I have little to say to you. Ye have drawn away 
 these silly folk with your blasphemous devices. Your 
 name is legion, for there are many devils within you. 
 You are the herd of swine after the devils had entered 
 into them. Hath your master given you any word to 
 speak before I come down to you ? ' 
 
 "'Ay,' said John Gib, leaping up in the air and 
 clapping his hands together as if he would again begin 
 the dance — which, accompanied by a horrid yowling 
 like that of a beaten dog, they called Sweet Singing. 
 
 "'Ay, that I have! Out upon you, Anton 
 Lennox, that set up for a man of God and a reprover 
 of others. I alone am pure, and God dwells in me. 
 I lift up my testimony against all the months of the 
 year, for their names are heathen. I alone testify 
 against January and February ; against Sunday, Mon- 
 day, and Tuesday ; against Martinmas and holidays, 
 against Lammas-day, Whitsun-day, Candlemas, Beltan, 
 stone crosses, saints' images, Kelton Hill Fair and
 
 SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 137 
 
 Stonykirk Sacrament. Against Yule and Christmas, 
 old wife's fables, Palm Sunday, Carlin Sunday, Pasch, 
 Hallow, and Hogmanay ; against the cracking of nits 
 and the singing of sangs ; against all romances and 
 story-buiks ; against Handsel Monday, kirks, kirk- 
 yairds and ministers, and specially against cock-ups in 
 the front o' the Sabbath bonnets o' ministers' wives j 
 against registers, lawyers and all lawbooks ' 
 
 " He cried out this rigmarole at the top of his voice, 
 speaking trippingly by rote as one that says his lesson 
 in school and has learned it often and well. He rolled 
 his eyes as he recited, and all the women clapped their 
 hands and made a kind of moaning howl like a dog 
 when it bays the moon. 
 
 " * Yea, Yea, and Amen I ' they cried after him, 
 like children singing in chorus. 
 
 " ' Peace, devil's brats all ! ' cried Anton Lennox, 
 like a tower above them. 
 
 " And they hushed at his word, for he stood over 
 them all, like one greater than man, till even Muckle 
 John Gib seemed puny beside the old man. 
 
 " ' David Jamie, hearken to me, you that has your 
 hand on your bit shable.* Better put up your feckless 
 iron spit. It will do you no good. You are a good 
 scholar lost, and a decent minister spoiled. I wonder 
 at you — a lad of some lear — companying with this 
 hairy-throated, tarry-fisted deceiver.' 
 
 " This David Jamie was a young limber lad, who 
 looked paler and more delicate than the others. What 
 brought him into the company of mad men and mis- 
 guided women, it is perhaps better only guessing. 
 
 " He looked sufficiently ashamed now at all events. 
 
 * Short sword.
 
 138 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 "'Walter Ker and John Young, hearken ye to me; 
 I have more hope of you. You are but thoughtless, 
 ignorant, landward men, and the Lord may be pleased 
 to reclaim you from this dangerous and horrible delu- 
 sion.' 
 
 "Anton Ivonnox looked about him. There was a 
 fire smouldering at no great distance from him. Some- 
 thing black and square lay upon it. He took three 
 great strides to the place. Lifting the dark smouldering 
 object up from ofF the fire, he cried aloud in horror, and 
 began rubbing with his hands. It was a fine large-print 
 Bible, with more than half of it burned away. There 
 were also several little ones upon the fire underneath. 
 I never saw a man's anger fire up more quickly. P'or 
 me, I was both amazed and afraid at the awful and 
 unthinkable blasphemy. 
 
 "'John Gib,' cried Anton Lennox, 'stand up before 
 the Lord, and answer — who has done this ? ' 
 
 " ' I, that am the head of the Sweet Singers, and the 
 Lord's anointed ! " said he. ' I have done it ! ' 
 
 " ' Then, by the Lord's great name, I will make 
 you sing right sweetly for this ! ' cried Anton, taking 
 a vow. 
 
 " Then one of the women took up the parable. 
 
 "'We heard a voice in the Frost Moss,' she said, 
 'and a light shone about us there ; and John Gib bade 
 us burn our Bibles, for that the Psalms in Metre, the 
 chapter headings, and the Table of Contents were but 
 human inventions.' 
 
 " ' And I did it out of despite against God ! ' cried 
 John Gib. 
 
 " Then Anton Lennox said not a word more, but 
 cast avi^ay his plaid, spat upon his cudgel-palm, and 
 called over his shoulder to me :
 
 SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 139 
 
 "'Come, Sandy, and help me to wrestle in the Spirit 
 with these Sweet Singers.' 
 
 " As he ran down the brae, David Jamie, the student 
 youth, came at him with a little spit-stick of a sword, 
 and cried that if he came nearer he would run him 
 through. 
 
 "'The Lord forgic ye for leein', callant,' cried 
 Anton, catching the poor thin blade on his great oak- 
 cudgel, for Anton was a great player with the single- 
 sticks, and as a lad had been the cock of the country- 
 side. The steel, being spindle-thin, shivered into 
 twenty pieces, and the poor lad stood gaping at the 
 sword-hilt left in his hand, which had grown suddenly 
 light. 
 
 "'Bide you there and wrestle with him, Sandy !' 
 Auld Anton cried again over his shoulder. 
 
 "So I took my knee and tripped David up. And 
 so sat up upon him very comfortable, till his nose was 
 pressed into the moss, and all his members sprawled and 
 waggled beneath me like a puddock under a stone. 
 
 Then Auld Anton made straight for John Gib 
 himself, who stood back among his circle of women, 
 conspicuous in his white sark and with a pistol in his 
 hand. When he saw Auld Anton coming so fiercely 
 at him across the peat hags, he shot off his pistol, and 
 turned to run. But his women caught hold of him by 
 the flying white robe, thinking that he was about to 
 soar upward out of their sight. 
 
 " ' Let me be,' he cried, with a great sailor oath ; 
 and tearing away from them, he left half the linen 
 cloth in their hands, and betook him to his heels. 
 
 " Anton Lennox went after him hot foot, and there 
 they had it, like coursing dogs, upon the level moor. 
 It was noble sport. I laughed till David Jamie was
 
 140 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 nearly choked in the moss with me rocking to and fro 
 upon him. Anton Lennox was twice the age of John 
 Gib. But Muckle John being a sailor man, accustomed 
 only to the short deck, and also having his running 
 gear out of order by his manner of life, did exceed- 
 ingly pant and blow. Yet for a time he managed to 
 keep ahead of his pursuer. But there was no ultimate 
 city of refuge for him. 
 
 " Anton Lennox followed after him a little stiffly, 
 with a grim determined countenance ; and as he ran I 
 saw him shorten his cudgel of crabtree in his hand. 
 Presently he came up with the muckle man of Borrow- 
 stounness. The great stick whistled through the air, 
 soughing like a willow-wand. Once, twice, thrice — 
 it rose and fell. And the sound that ensued was like 
 the beating of a sack of meal. 
 
 " ' I'll learn you to burn the Bible ! ' cried Anton, as 
 he still followed. His arm rose and fell steadily while 
 John Gib continued to run as if the dogs were after 
 him. The great hulk cried out with the intolerable 
 pain of the blows. 
 
 " ' I'll mak' ye Sweet Singers a', by my faith ! I'll 
 score ilka point o' your paper screed on youl- back, my 
 man — Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Pasch, Beltan, and 
 Yule I ' 
 
 "At the Yule stroke John Gib fell into a moss-hole. 
 We could not easily see what followed then. But the 
 grievous cudg-el steadfastly rose and fell like the flail 
 of a man that threshes corn in a barn, and a howling 
 and roaring that was aught but sweet singing came to 
 us over the moor. 
 
 " Presently Anton returned, striding back to where 
 I sat upon David Jamie his back. 
 
 "' Rise ! ' he said. And that was all he said.
 
 SINGERS OF THE DEER-SLUNK 141 
 
 "But he took his foot and turned the bit clerk over, 
 pulling him out of the moss with a cloop like the cork 
 being drawn out of a brisk bottle of small ale. 
 
 " * David, lad, do ye renounce John Gib and all his 
 ways ? ' 
 
 " The limber-limbed student looked doubtful, but 
 the sight of the cudgel and the distant sound of the 
 sweet singing of Muckle John decided him. 
 
 " 'Ay,' he said. ' I am content to renounce them 
 and him.' 
 
 "'See ye and stick to it then !' said Anton, and 
 went after Walter Ker and John Young, who stood 
 together as though they had gotten a dead stroke. 
 
 " 'Ye saw visions, did ye ? ' he said. ' See ye if this 
 be a vision ! ' 
 
 "And he gave them certain dour strokes on their 
 bodies, for they were strong carles and could bide the 
 like — not like the poor feckless loon of a colleger. 
 
 " ' Did ye see a light shining in the moss late yes- 
 treen ? ' he asked them. 
 
 "' It was but glow-worms ! ' said Walter Ker. 
 
 " ' It was, aiblins, Wull-o'-the-Wisp ? ' said John 
 Young. 
 
 "'Ay, that's mair like the thing, noo ! " said Auld 
 Anton, with something like a smile on his face. 
 
 " So saying he drove all the women (save two or 
 three that had scattered over the moss) before him, till 
 we came to the place of the ordinary Societies' Meeting 
 at Howmuir, from which we set out. 
 
 " Here were assembled sundry of the husbands of 
 the women — for the black shame of it was, that the 
 most part of them were wives and mothers of families, 
 of an age when the faults of youth were no longer 
 either temptation or excuse.
 
 142 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " To them he delivered up the women ; each to her 
 own husband, with certain advice. 
 
 " 'I have wrestled with the men,' he said, *and over- 
 come them. Wrestle ye with the women, that are 
 your own according to the flesh. And if ye think that 
 my oaken stave is too sore, discharge your duty with a 
 birch rod, of the thickness of your little finger — for it 
 is the law of the realm of Scotland that every husband 
 is allowed to give his wife reasonable correction there- 
 with. But gin ye need my staff or gin your wives 
 prefer it, it is e'en at your service.' 
 
 " So saying, he threw his plaid over his shoulder, and 
 made for the door. 
 
 "'Learn them a' the sweet singin',' he said. 'John 
 Gib was grand at it. He sang like a mavis oot by 
 there, on the moor at the Deer-Slunk.' " 
 
 This was the matter of Sandy's cheerful tale about 
 John Gib and Auld Anton Lennox. 
 
 And this cured Sandy of some part of his extremes, 
 though to my thinking at times, he had been none the 
 worse of Auld Anton at his elbow to give him a lesson 
 or two in sweet singing. I might not in that case 
 have had to buy all over again the bonny house of 
 Earlstoun, and so had more to spend upon Afton, 
 which is now mine own desirable residence.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE HOME OF MY LOVE 
 
 Anthony Lennox presently took me by the hand, and 
 led me over to where in the Duchrae kitchen the dark 
 young man sat, whose noble head and carriage I had 
 remarked. 
 
 " Mr. Cameron," he said, gravely and with respect, 
 " this is the son of a brave man and princely contender 
 with his Master — William Gordon of Earlstoun, lately 
 gone from us." 
 
 And for the first time I gave my hand to Richard 
 Cameron, whom men called the Lion of the Covenant 
 ■ — a great hill-preacher, who, strangely enough, like 
 some others of the prominent disaffected to the 
 Government, had been bred of the party of Prelacy. 
 
 As I looked upon him I saw that he was girt with 
 a sword, and that he had a habit of gripping the hilt 
 when he spoke, as though at the pinch he had yet 
 another argument which all might understand. And 
 being a soldier's son I own that I liked him the better 
 for it. Then I remembered what (it was reported) he 
 had said on the Holms of Kirkmahoe when he preached 
 there. 
 
 " I am no reed to be shaken with the wind, as 
 Charles Stuart shall one day know." 
 
 And it was here that I got my first waft of the new 
 tongue which these hill-folk spake among themselves. 
 I heard of "singular Christians,"' and concerning the 
 evils of paying the " cess " or King's tax — things of
 
 144- THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 which I had never heard in my father's house, the 
 necessity not having arisen before Bothw^ell to discuss 
 these questions. 
 
 When all the men were gathered into the wide 
 house-place, some sitting, some standing, the grave- 
 faced woman knocked with her knuckles gently on a 
 door which opened into an inner room. Instantly 
 Maisie Lennox and other two maids came out bearing 
 refreshments, which they handed round to all that were 
 in the house. The carriage of one of these three sur- 
 prised me much, and I observed that my cousin Wat 
 did not take his eyes from her. 
 
 " Who may these maids be ? " he whispered in my 
 ear. 
 
 " Nay, but I ken not them all," I answered. " Bide, 
 and we shall hear." For, indeed, I knew only one of 
 them, but her very well. 
 
 And when they came to us in our turn, Maisie 
 Lennox nodded to me as to a friend of familiar dis- 
 course, to whom nothing needs to be explained. And 
 she that was the tallest of the maids handed Wat the 
 well-curled oaten cake on a trencher. Then he rose 
 and bowed courteously to her, whereat there was first 
 a silence and then a wonder among the men in the 
 house, for the manner of the reverence was strange 
 to the stiff backs of the hill-folk. But Anthony 
 Lennox stilled them, telling of the introduction he had 
 gotten concerning Walter, and that both our fathers 
 had made a good end for the faith, so that we were 
 presently considered wholly free of the meeting. 
 
 We heard that there was to be a field conventicle 
 near by, at which Mr. Cameron was to preach. This 
 was the reason of so great a gathering, many having 
 come out of Ayrshire, and even as far as Lesmahago
 
 THE HOME OF MY LOVE 145 
 
 in the Upper Ward of Lanark, where there are many 
 very zealous for the truth. 
 
 Then they fell again to the talking, while I noted 
 how the maids comported themselves. The eldest of 
 them and the tallest, was a lass of mettle, with dark, 
 bent brows. She held her head high, and seemed, by 
 her attiring and dignity, accustomed to other places 
 than this moorland farm-town. Yet here she was, 
 handing victual like a servitor, before a field-preaching. 
 And this I was soon to learn was a common thine in 
 Galloway, where nearly the whole of the gentry, and 
 still more of their wives and daughters, were on the 
 side of the Covenant. It was no uncommon thing 
 for a King's man, when he was disturbing a conven- 
 ticle — "skailing a bees' byke," as it was called — to 
 come on his own wife's or, it might be, his daughter's 
 palfrey, tethered in waiting to the root of some birk- 
 tree. 
 
 " Keep your black-tail coats closer in by ! " said 
 Duke Rothes once to his lady, who notoriously har- 
 boured outed preachers, " or I shall have to do some of 
 them a hurt ! Ca' your messans to your foot, else I'll 
 hae to kennel them for ye ! " 
 
 There was, however, no such safe hiding as in some 
 of the great houses of the strict persecutors. 
 
 So in a little while, the most part of the company 
 going out, this tall, dark-browed maid was made known 
 to us by Matthew of the Dub, as Mistress Kate 
 McGhie, daughter of the Laird of Balmaghie, within 
 which parish we were. 
 
 Then Maisie Lennox beckoned to the third maid, 
 and she came forward with shyness and grace. She 
 was younger than the other two, and seemed to be a 
 well-grown lass of thirteen or fourteen. 
 
 K
 
 146 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " This," said Maisie Lennox, " is my cousin Mar- 
 garet of Glen Vernock." 
 
 The maid whom she so named blushed, and spoke to 
 us in the broader accent of the Shire, yet pleasantly 
 and frankly as one well reared. 
 
 Presently there came to us the taller maid — she who 
 was called Kate, the Laird's daughter. 
 
 She held out her hand to me. 
 
 " Ah, Will of Earlstoun, I have heard of you ! " 
 
 I answered that I hoped it was for good. 
 
 " It was from Maisie there that I heard it," she said, 
 which indeed told me nothing. But Kate McGhie 
 shook her head at us, which tempted me to think her a 
 flighty maid. However, I remembered her words 
 often afterwards when I was in hiding. 
 
 Thereupon I presented my cousin Wat to her, and 
 they bowed to one another with a very courtly grace. 
 I declare it was pretty to see them, and also most strange 
 in a house where the hill-folk were gathered together. 
 But for the sake of my father and brother we were 
 never so much as questioned. 
 
 Presently there was one came to the door, and 
 cried that the preaching was called and about to 
 begin. So we took our bonnets and the maids their 
 shawls about them, and set forth. It was a grey, 
 unkindly day, and the clouds hung upon the heights. 
 There are many woods of pine and oak about the 
 Duchrae ; and we went through one of them to an 
 ancient moat-hill or place of defence on a hillside, with 
 a ditch about it of three or four yards v/ideness, which 
 overlooked the narrow pack road by the v/ater's 
 edge. 
 
 As we went Kate McGhie walked by my side, and 
 we talked together. She told me that she came
 
 THE HOME OF MY LOVE 147 
 
 against her parents' will, though not without her 
 father's knowledge ; and that it was her great love 
 for Maisie Lennox, who was her friend and gossip, 
 which had first drav/n her to a belief in the faith of 
 the hill-folk. 
 
 "But there is one thing," said she, "that I cannot 
 hold with them in. I am no rebel, and I care not to 
 disown the authority of the King ! " 
 
 " Yet you look not like a sufferer in silence ! " I 
 said, smiling at her. " Are you a maid of the Quaker 
 folk ? " 
 
 At which she was fain to laugh and deny it. 
 
 "But," I said, "if you are a King's woman, you 
 will surely find yourself in a strange company to-day. 
 Yet there is one here of the same mind as yourself." 
 
 Then she entreated me to tell her who that 
 might be. 
 
 " Oh, not I," I replied, " I have had enough of 
 Charles Stuart. I could eat with ease all I like 
 of him, or his brother either ! It is my cousin of 
 Lochinvar, who has been lately put to the horn and 
 outlawed." 
 
 At the name she seemed much surprised. 
 
 " It were well not to name him here," she said, 
 " for the chief men know of his past companying 
 with Claverhouse and other malignants, and they 
 might distrust his honesty and yours." 
 
 We had other pleasant talk by the way, and she 
 told me of all her house, of her uncle that was at 
 Kirkcudbright with Captain Winram and the gar- 
 rison there, and of her father that had forbidden her 
 to go to the field-meetings. 
 
 " Which is perhaps why I am here ! " she said, 
 glancing at me with her bold black eyes.
 
 1+8 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 As I went I could hear behind us the soft words 
 and low speech of Maisie Lennox, who came with 
 my cousin Wat and Margaret of Glen Vernock. 
 What was the matter of their speech I could not dis- 
 cover, though I own I was eager to learn. But they 
 seemed to agree well together, which seemed strange 
 to me, for I was a much older acquaintance than he. 
 
 Now, especially when in the wilder places, we came 
 to walk all four together, it seemed a very pleasant 
 thing to me to go thus to the worship of God in 
 company. And I began from that hour to think 
 kindlier of the field-folks' way of hearing a preacher 
 in the open country. This, as I well know, says 
 but little for me ; yet I will be plain and conceal 
 nothing of the way by which I was led from being a 
 careless and formal home-keeper, to cast in my lot 
 with the remnant who abode in the fields and were 
 pqrsecuted.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE GREAT CONVENTICLE BY THE DEE WATER 
 A Note to the Reader . 
 
 I am warned that there are many folk who 
 care not to hear what things were truly said and 
 done at a conventicle of the hill-folk. I have told 
 the tale so that such rnay omit the reading of these 
 two chapters. Nevertheless^ if they will take a 
 friend's word^ it ?night be for their advantage 
 to read the whole. JV. G. 
 
 On our way to the conventicle we came to the place 
 that is called the Moat of the Duchrae Bank, and 
 found much people already gathered there. It is a 
 very lonely place on the edge of a beautiful and still 
 water, called the Lane of Grenoch. In the midst of 
 the water, and immediately opposite to the moat, there 
 is an island called the Hollan Isle, full of coverts and 
 hiding-places among hazel bushes, which grow there 
 in thick matted copses. Beyond that again there are 
 only the moors and the mountains for thirty miles. 
 The country all about is lairy and boggy, impossible for 
 horses to ride; while over to the eastward a little, the 
 main road passed to Kells and Carsphairn, but out of 
 sight behind the shoulder of the hill. 
 
 There was a preaching tent erected on a little emi- 
 nence in the middle of the round bare top of the moat. 
 The people sat all about, and those who arrived late 
 clustered on the farther bank, across the ditch.
 
 I50 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 I observed that every man came fully armed. For 
 the oppressions of Lauderdale in Scotland, and espe- 
 cially the severities of John Graham and Robert Grier 
 in Galloway, were bearing their own proper fruit. 
 The three maids sat together, and Wat Gordon and 
 I sat down near them — I as close to Maisie Lennox 
 as I dared, because, for old acquaintance sake, my liking 
 was chiefly towards her. Also, I perceived that Kate 
 McGhie w^as more interested to talk to me of my cousin 
 than to hear concerning myself, a thing I never could 
 abide in talking to a woman. 
 
 But Maisie kept her head bent, and her face hidden 
 by the fold of her shawl. For she had, even at that 
 time, what I so sadly lacked, a living interest in 
 relia:ion. 
 
 From where I sat I could see the watchers on the 
 craigs above the Hollan Isle, and those also over on 
 the hill by the Folds. So many were they, that I 
 felt that not a muir-fowl would cry, nor a crow 
 carry a stick to its nest, without a true man taking 
 note of it. I heard afterwards, that over by the Fords 
 of Crae they had come on a certain informer lying 
 couched in the heather to watch what should happen. 
 Him they chased for three miles over the heather by 
 Slogaric, clodding him with divots of peat and sod, yet 
 not so as to do the ill-set rascal overmuch harm. But 
 a sound clouring does such-like good. 
 
 Then there arose the pleasant sound of singing. For 
 Mr. Cameron had gone. up into the preaching tent and 
 given out the psalm. We all stood up to sing, and as 
 I noted my cousin standing apart, looking uncertainly 
 about, I went over to him and brought him to my side, 
 where one gave us a book to look upon together. As 
 they sang, I watched to see the sentinel on the craigs
 
 THE GREAT CONVENTICLE 151 
 
 turn him about to listen to us, and noted the light 
 glance on his sword, and on the barrel of the musket 
 on which he leaned. For these little tricks of obser- 
 vation were ever much to mc, though the true Whip- 
 folk minded them not a hair, but stuck to their sing- 
 ing, as indeed it was their duty to do. 
 
 But even to me, the sound of the psalm vi^as un- 
 speakably solemn and touching out there in the open 
 fields. It seemed, as we sang of the God who was 
 our refuge and our strength, that as we looked on 
 Grenoch, we were indeed in a defenced cit)^, in the 
 prophesied place of broad rivers and streams, wherein 
 should go no galley with oars, neither should gallant 
 ship pass thereby. 
 
 I had never before felt so near God, nor had so 
 sweet an income of gladness upon my spirit ; though 
 I had often wondered what it all meant when I heard 
 my father and mother speak together. There seemed, 
 indeed, a gale of the Spirit upon the meeting, and I 
 think from that moment I understood more of the 
 mind of them that suffered for their faith ; which, 
 indeed, I think a man cannot do till he himself is 
 ready to undergo his share of the suffering. 
 
 But when Richard Cameron began to speak, 1 
 easily forgat everything else. He had a dominating 
 voice, the voice of a strong man crying in the wilder- 
 ness. "We are here in a kenned place," he said, "and 
 there be many witnesses about us. To-day the bitter 
 is taken out of our cup, if it be only for a moment. 
 Yea, and a sweet cup we have of it now. We v/ho 
 have been much on the wild mountains, know what 
 it is to be made glad by Thy works — the works of 
 the Lord's hands. When we look up to the moon or 
 stars, lo ! the hand of the Lord is in them, and we are
 
 152 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 glad. See ye the corn-rigs up ayont us there, on the 
 Duchrae Hill — the hand of God is in the sweet spring- 
 ing of them, when the sun shines upon them after 
 rain. And it is He who sendeth forth every pile of 
 the grass that springs so sweetly in the meadows by 
 the waterside." 
 
 I own it was very pleasant to me to listen to him, 
 for I had not thought there was such tenderness in 
 the man. He went on : 
 
 " We are hirsled over moss and moor, over crags 
 and rocks, and headlong after us the devil drives. Be 
 not crabbit with us, O Lord ! It is true we have 
 gotten many calls, and have not answered. We in 
 the West and South have been like David, cockered 
 and pampered overmuch. Not even the wild High- 
 lands have sitten through so many calls as we have 
 done here in Galloway and the South. 
 
 "For I bear testimony that it is not easy to bring 
 folk to Christ. I, that am a man weak as other men, 
 bear testimony that it is not easy — not easy even to 
 come to Him for oneself! " 
 
 And here I saw the people begin to yearn towards 
 the preacher, and in the grey light I saw the tears 
 running silently down his cheeks. And it seemed as 
 if both the minister and also the most part of the 
 people fell into a rapture of calm weeping, which, 
 strangely enough, forced Mr. Cameron often to break 
 off short. Folks' hearts were easily touched in those 
 days of peril. 
 
 " Are there none such here ? " he asked. And I 
 confess my heart went out to him and all my sins 
 stood black and threatening before me as I listened. 
 I vow that at the time I feared his words far more 
 than ever I did Lag and his riders — this being my first
 
 THE GREAT CONVENTICLE 153 
 
 living experience of religion, and the day from which 
 I and many another ground our hope. 
 
 Then ere he sufficiently commanded himself to speak 
 again, I took a glance at the maid Maisie Lennox 
 beside me, and the look on her face was that on the 
 face of a martyr who has come through the torture and 
 won the victory. But the little lass that was called 
 Margaret of Glen Vernock clung to her hand and 
 wept as she listened. As for Kate McGhie, she only 
 looked awav over the water of the Hollan Isle to the 
 blue barn rigging of the Orchar Hill and seemed 
 neither to sec nor to hear anything. Or, at least, 
 I was not the man to whom was given the art to see 
 what were her inner thoughts. 
 
 Richard Cameron went on. 
 
 " Are there any here that find a difficulty to close 
 with Christ ? But before we speak to that, I think 
 we shall pray a short word." 
 
 So all the people stood up on the hillside and the 
 sough of their uprising was like the wind among the 
 cedar-trees. And even as he prayed for the Spirit to 
 come on these poor folk, that were soon to be scattered 
 again over the moors and hags as sheep that wanted a 
 shepherd, the Wind of the Lord (for so I think it was) 
 came breathing upon us. The grey of the clouds 
 broke up, and for an hour the sun shone through so 
 kindly and warm that many let their plaids fall to the 
 ground. But the mists still clung about the mountain- 
 tops of the Bennan and Cairn Edward. 
 
 Then after he had prayed not long but fervently, 
 he went on again to speak to us of the love and 
 sufferings of Christ, for the sake of whose cause and 
 kingdom we were that day in this wild place. Much 
 he pleaded with us to make sure of our interest, and
 
 154 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 not think that because we v/ere here in some danger at 
 a field-preaching, therefore all was well. O but he 
 was faithful with us that day, and there were many 
 who felt that the gate of heaven was very near to them 
 at the great conventicle by the Water of Dee. 
 
 And even after many years, I that have been weak 
 and niddering, and that have taken so many sins on my 
 soul, since I sat there on the bank by Maisie Lennox, 
 and trembled under Mr. Cameron's words, give God 
 thank and service that I was present to hear the Lion 
 of the Covenant roar that day upon the mountains of 
 Scotland. 
 
 Yet when he spoke thus to us at this part of his 
 pleading, it was most like the voice of a tender 
 nursing mother that would wile her wayward bairns 
 home. But when he had done with offering to us 
 the cross, and commending Him that erewhile hung 
 thereon, I saw him pause and look about him. He 
 v/as silent for a space, his eyes gleamed with an inner 
 iire,rand the wind that had arisen drave among his 
 black locks. I could see, as it had been, the storm 
 gather to break. 
 
 " There ayont us are the Bennan and Cairn 
 Edward, and the Muckle Craig o' Dee — look over 
 at them — I take them to witness this day that I have 
 preached to you the whole counsel of God. There 
 be some great professors among you this day who 
 have no living grace — of whom I only name Black 
 MacMichael and Muckle John, for their sins are 
 open and patent, going before them into judgment. 
 There arc also some here that will betray our plans 
 to the enemy, and carry their report of this meeting 
 to the Malignants. To them I say : Carry this 
 word to your masters, the word of a wiser than I, ' Ye
 
 THE GREAT CONVENTICLE 155 
 
 may blaw your bag-pipes till you burst, we will not 
 bow down and worship your glaiks — no, not though 
 ye gar every heid here weigh its tail, and the wind 
 whistle through our bones as we hang on the gallows- 
 tree.' " 
 
 Here he held up his hand and there was a great 
 silence. 
 
 " Hush ! I hear the sound of a great host — I see 
 the gate of Heaven beset. The throng of them that 
 are to be saved through suffering, are about it. And 
 One like unto the Son of Man stands there to welcome 
 them. What though they set your heads as they 
 shall mine, high on the Netherbow Port ; or cast 
 your body on the gallows dunghill as they will 
 Sandy's here ? Know ye that there waiteth for you 
 at the door One with face more marred than that 
 of any man — One with His garments red coming up 
 from Bozrah, One that hath trodden the winepress 
 alone. And He shall say, as He sees you come 
 through the sw^ellings of Jordan, ' These are they 
 that have come out of great tribulation, and have 
 washed their robes, and made them white in the blood 
 of the Lamb.' ' Lift up your heads, O ye gates, and 
 be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, for the redeemed of 
 the Lord shall also enter in ! ' " 
 
 So he made an end, and all the people were 
 astonished at him, because they looked even then for 
 the chariot which it had been foretold should come 
 and snatch him out of mortal sight.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 PEDEN THE PROPHET 
 
 [Being the concluding of the conventicle by the 
 Dee Water.) 
 
 Yet the chariot of fire came not, for the time was not 
 yet, though the grinding of its wheels was even then 
 to be heard at the door. But the Lord had yet a great 
 day's darg to do in Scotland with Richard Cameron. 
 
 Then after silence had endured for a time, another 
 minister rose up to speak to us. At sight of him a 
 murmur went about, and wonder and joy sat on every 
 face. He was an old man, tall and gaunt. His hair, 
 lyart and long, fell upon his shoulders. His beard 
 descended upon his breast. 
 
 " Peden the Prophet I " was the whisper that went 
 about. And all bent eagerly forward to look at the 
 famous wanderer, whom all held to have gifts of utter- 
 ance and prophecy beyond those of mortal. He it was 
 , that had been a thousand times hunted like a partridge 
 upon the mountains, a hundred times taken in the net, 
 yet had ever escaped. He it was for the love of whom 
 men had laid down their lives like water, only that 
 Alexander Peden might go scathless and speak his 
 Master's will. 
 
 Bowed he was and broken ; yet when he spoke his 
 natural strength was in nowise abated, and at his first 
 word the fear of the Lord came upon us. I looked at
 
 PEDEN THE PROPHET 157 
 
 Lochinvar, who in his time had ridden so hard on his 
 track. He sat open-mouthed, and there was a daze of 
 awe in his look. 
 
 Alexander Peden had hardly spoken a sentence to us 
 when the spirit of prophecy brake upon him, and he 
 cried out for Scotland as was his wont in those days. 
 His voice rose and rang — not like a war-trumpet as 
 did Cameron's, but rather like the wild wind that goes 
 about the house and about the house, and cries fearful 
 words in at the chinks and crevices. 
 
 " A bloody sword, a bloody sword for thee, O puir 
 Scotland ! Many a mile shall they travel in thee and 
 see nought but waste places, nor so much as a house 
 reeking pleasantly on the brae. Many a conventicle 
 has been wared on thee, my Scotland. And Welsh and 
 Semple, Cameron and Cargill have cried to thee. But 
 ere long they shall all be put to silence and God shall 
 preach to thee only with the bloody sword. Have ye 
 never witnessed for the cause and Covenants ? Or 
 have ye been dumb dogs that would not bark ? If that 
 be so, as sayeth godly Mr. Guthrie of Fenwick, God 
 will make the tongues that owned Him not to fry and 
 flutter upon the hot coals of hell. He will gar them 
 blatter and bleeze upon the burning coals of hell ! 
 
 " Speak, sirs, or He will gar these tongues that He 
 hath put into your mouths to popple and play in the 
 pow-pot of hell ! " 
 
 As he said these words his eyes shone upon us like 
 to burn us through, and his action was most terrifying 
 as he took his great oaken staff and shook it over us. 
 And we fairly trembled beneath him like silly bairns 
 taken in a wrong. 
 
 But he went on his way as one that cries for ven- 
 geance over an open grave in which a slain man lies.
 
 158 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Ye think that there hath been bloodshed in Scot- 
 land, and so there hath — dear and precious — but I tell 
 you that that which hath been, is but as the dropping 
 of the morning cloud ere the sun rises in his strength, 
 to the mid-noon thunder plump that is yet to come. 
 
 " Not since the black day of Bothwell have I slept 
 in a bed ! I have been Nazarite for the ^ow that v\^as 
 upon me. Have any of you that are here seen me in 
 New Luce ? Not even Ritchie here could have over- 
 crowed me then, for strength and stature. I stood as 
 a young tree by the river of waters. Look upon me 
 now — so crooked by the caves and the moss-hags that 
 I could not go upright to the scaffold. The sword 
 handle is fit for your hands, and the Lord of Battles give 
 you long arms when you measure swords with Charles 
 Stuart. But old Sandy is good for nothing now but 
 the praying. He can only bide in his hole like a 
 toothless tyke, lame and blind ; and girn his gums at 
 the robbers that spoil his master's house. 
 
 " ' Crook-back, crab-heart,' sayeth the proverb," 
 Peden cried, " but I think not so, for my heart is warm 
 this day toward you that sit here, for but few of you 
 shall win through the day of wrath that is to come 
 in Scotland." 
 
 He turned towards the place where we sat together, 
 the maids, my cousin and L A great fear in my 
 heart chilled me like ice. Was he to denounce us as 
 traitors ? But he only said slowly these words in a 
 soft and moving voice, as one that hath the tears close 
 behind : 
 
 "And there are some of you, young maids and 
 weak, here present, that shall make a name in Scotland, 
 a name that shall never die ! " 
 
 With that he made an end and sat down.
 
 PEDEN THE PROPHET 159 
 
 Then came one, white-face and panting from the 
 hill on the east. 
 
 " The riders are upon us — flee quickly ! " he 
 cried. 
 
 Then, indeed, there was great confusion and deray. 
 Some rose up in act to flee. But Anton Lennox, 
 who had the heart of a soldier in him and the wit of a 
 general, commanded the men to stand to their arms, 
 putting the women behind them. And through the 
 confusion I could see stern-faced men moving to the 
 front with guns and swords in their hands. These, 
 as I learned, were the disciplined members of the Pray- 
 ing Societies, whom Cameron and afterwards Renwick 
 drew together into one military bond of defence and 
 fellowship. 
 
 For me I stood where I was, the maids only being 
 with me ; and I felt that, come what might, it was 
 my duty to protect them. Kate McGhie clasped her 
 hands and stood as one that is gripped with fear, yet 
 can master it. But Maisie Lennox, who was nearest 
 to me, looked over to where her father stood at the 
 corner of his company. Then, because she was dis- 
 tressed for him and knew not what she did, she drew 
 a half-knitted stocking out of the pocket that swung 
 beneath her kirtle, calmly set the stitches in order, and 
 went on knitting as is the Galloway custom among 
 the hill-folk when they wait for anything. 
 
 There was a great silence — a stillness in which one 
 heard his neighbour breathing. Through it the voice 
 of Peden rose. 
 
 " Lord," he prayed, " it is Thine enemies' day. 
 Hour and power are allowed to them. They may not 
 be idle. But hast Thou no other work for them to 
 do in their master's service ? Send them after those
 
 i6o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 to whom Thou hast given strength to flee, for our 
 strength's gone, and there are many weak women 
 among us this day. Twine them about the hill, O 
 Lord, and cast the lap of Thy cloak over puir Sandy 
 and thir puir things, and save us this one time." 
 
 So saying he went to the top of a little hill near by, 
 from which there is a wide prospect. It is called 
 Mount Pleasant. From thence he looked all round 
 and waved his hands three times. And in a minute 
 there befell a wonderful thing. For even as his hands 
 beckoned, from behind the ridges of the Duchrae and 
 Drumglass, arose the level tops of a great sea of mist. 
 It came upon the land suddenly as the "haar" that 
 in the autumn drives up the eastern valleys from the 
 sea. Like a river that rises behind a dam, it rose, till 
 of a sudden it overflowed and came towards us over 
 the moorland, moving with a sound like running 
 water very far away. 
 
 Then Peden the Prophet came hastening back to 
 us. 
 
 *' Move not one of you out of your places ! " he 
 cried, "for the Lord is about to send upon us His 
 pillar of cloud." Then the mist came, and made 
 by little and little a very thick darkness, and Peden 
 said : 
 
 " Lads, the bitterest of the blast is over. We shall 
 no more be troubled with them this day." And 
 through the darkness I felt a hand placed in mine — 
 whose I could not tell, but I hoped plainly that it 
 might be Maisie Lennox's hand, for, as I have said, 
 she was my gossip and my friend. At least I heard 
 no more the click of the knitting needles. 
 
 The mist came yet thicker, and through it there 
 shone, now and then, the flickering leme of pale light-
 
 PEDEN THE PROPHET i6i 
 
 ning, that flashed about us all. Then quite suddenly 
 we heard strangely near us the jangling of the accou- 
 trements of the troopers and the sound of voices. 
 
 " Curse the Whigs' mist, it has come on again ! 
 We canna steer for it ! " cried a voice so riear that the 
 hill-men stood closer in their ranks, and my own heart 
 leaped till I heard it beat irregularly within me. 
 
 We marked the sharp clip clip as their shod horses 
 struck the stones with their feet. Now and then a 
 man would clatter over his steed's head as the poor 
 beast bogged or stumbled. 
 
 Looking over between the hazel-trees, I could faintly 
 discern the steel caps of the troopers through the gloom, 
 as they wound in single file between us and the water- 
 side. It was but a scouting party, for in a moment 
 we heard the trumpet blow from the main body, which 
 had kept the road that winds down to the old ford, 
 over the Black Water on the way from Kircudbright 
 to New Galloway and Kenmuir. 
 
 In a little the sounds came fainter on our ears, and 
 the swing and trample of the hoofs grew so far away 
 that we could not hear them any more. 
 
 But the great cloud of people stood for long time 
 still, no man daring to move. It struck me as strange 
 that in that concourse of shepherds not so much as a 
 dog barked. In a moment I saw the reason. Each 
 herd was sitting on the grass with his dog's head in 
 his lap, wrapped in his plaid. Then came the scatter- 
 ing of the great meeting. Such were the chances of 
 our life at that dark time, when brother might part 
 from brother and meet no more. And when a father 
 might go out to look for the lambs, and be found by his 
 daughter fallen on his face on the heather by the sheep 
 ree, with that on his breast that was not bonny to 
 
 L
 
 i6z THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 see when they turned him over. As for me I went 
 home with Maisie Lennox and her friend the young 
 lass of Glen Vernock, as was indeed my plain duty. 
 We walked side by side in silence, for we had great 
 thoughts within us of Cameron and Peden, and of the 
 Blue Banner of the Covenant that was not yet wholly 
 put down.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 BIRSAY THE COBBLER 
 
 So many of the wanderers abode at the Duchrae that 
 Maisie Lennox v/as much cumbered with serving. Yet 
 in her quiet sedate way she would often take a word 
 with me in the bygoing, as if to let me feel that I was 
 not lonely or forgotten. And it cheered me much to find 
 that I was not despised, because I was (as yet) no great 
 fighting man of many inches or noble make like my 
 brother Sandy. Also I loved women's converse, having 
 been much with my mother — indeed, never long away 
 from her side, till my vain adventuring forth to Edin- 
 burgh in the matter of the sequestering of the estate. 
 As for Earlstoun, we heard it was to be forfaulted 
 very soon, and given to Robert Grier of Lag, who 
 was a very grab-all among them. Indeed, no one was 
 better than another, for even Claverhouse got Freuch, 
 "in consideration," it was quaintly said, "of his good 
 service and sufferings." His brother David likewise got 
 another estate in the Shire, and Rothes and Lauderdale 
 were as " free coups " for the wealth of the fined and 
 persecuted gentry. Whenever there was a man well-to- 
 do and of good repute, these men thought it no shame 
 to strive to take him in a snare, or to get him caught 
 harbouring on his estate some intercommuned persons. 
 They rubbed hands and nudged one another in Council 
 when they heard of a rising in arms. They even 
 cried out and shook hands for joy, because it gave
 
 164 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 them colour for more exactions, and also for keeping 
 an army in the field, whose providing and accoutring 
 was also very profitable for them. 
 
 But at the Duchrae we abode fairly secure. At 
 night we withdrew to the barn, where behind the corn- 
 mow a very safe and quaint hiding-place had been 
 devised. In the barn-wall, as in most of the barns in 
 that countryside, there were no windows of any size 
 — in fact nothing save a number of three-cornered 
 wickets. These were far too small to admit the body 
 of a man j but by some exercise of ingenious contri- 
 vance in keeping with the spirit of an evil time, the 
 bottom stone of one of these wickets had been so con- 
 structed that it turned outwards upon a hinge, which 
 so enlarged the opening that one man at a time had 
 no difficulty in passing through. This right cunning 
 trap-door was in the gable-end of the barn, and con- 
 ducted the fugitive behind the corn-mow in which 
 the harvest sheaves were piled to the ceiling. Here 
 we lay many a time while the troopers raged about the 
 house itself, stabbing every suspected crevice of the 
 corn and hay with their blades, but leaving us quite 
 safe behind the great pleasant-smelling mass of the 
 mow. 
 
 Yet for all it was a not unquiet time with us, and I 
 do not deny that I had much pleasant fellowship with 
 Maisie Lennox. 
 
 But I have now to tell what befell at the Duchrae 
 one Sabbath evening, when the pursuit had waxed dull 
 after Bothwell, and before the Sanquhar affair had 
 kindled a new flame. 
 
 At that time in Galloway, all the tailors, shoe- 
 makers, and artificers did their work by going from 
 house to house according as the several families had
 
 BIRSAY THE COBBLER 165 
 
 need of them. Now there was one man, who sat near 
 us at the conventicle, whose actions that day it was im- 
 possible to mistake. When the troopers were jingling 
 past beneath us, he flung himself on the ground, and 
 thrust his plaid into his mouth, to prevent his crymg 
 out for fear. So pitiful did he look that, when all was 
 past, my cousin Wat went over and asked of him : 
 
 " What craven manner of hill-man art thou ? " 
 
 For indeed the men of the broad bonnet were neither 
 cowards nor nidderlings. But this fellow was shaking 
 with fear like the aspen in an unequal wind. 
 
 "I am but poor Birsay the cobbler," the man 
 answered, " an' it please your honour, I like not to 
 come so near thae ill loons of soldiers." 
 
 " What sent you to the conventicle, then, when you 
 fear the red-coats so greatly ? " asked my cousin. 
 
 The little man glanced up at my cousin with a 
 humoursome gleam in his eyes. He was all bent together 
 with crouching over his lap-stone, and as he walked he 
 threw himself into all kinds of ridiculous postures. 
 
 " Weel," he said, " ye see it's no easy kennin' what 
 may happen. I hae seen a conventicle scale in a hurry, 
 and leave as mony as ten guid plaids on the grund — 
 forbye Bibles and neckerchiefs." 
 
 " But surely," I said to the cobbler, "you would not 
 steal what the poor honest folk leave behind them in 
 their haste ? " 
 
 The word seemed to startle him greatly. 
 
 " Na, na ; Birsay steals nane, stealin's no canny ! " 
 he cried. " Them that steals hings in a tow — an' for- 
 bye, burns in muckle hell — bleezin' up in fuffin lowes 
 juist as the beardic auld man Sandy Peden said." 
 
 And the cobbler illustrated the nature of the con- 
 flagration with his hand.
 
 i66 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Na, na," he cried, in the strange yammering 
 speech of the creature, " there's nae stealin' in gatherin' 
 thegether what ither folks hae strawed, surely. That's 
 i' the guid Buik itsel'. An' then after the bizz is bye, 
 and the sough calmed doon, Birsay can gang frae auld 
 wife to auld wife, and say to ilka yin, 'Ye wadna loss 
 ocht lately, did ye, guid wife ? ' ' Aye,' says she. ' I 
 lost my Bible, my plaid, or my kercher at the field- 
 preachin' ! ' ' Ay, woman, did ye ? ' says I. ' They're 
 terrible loons the sodgers for grippin' and haudin'. 
 Noo I mak' shoon for a sergeant that has mony a 
 dizzen o' thae things.' 
 
 " Wi' that the auld wife begins to cock her lugs. 
 ' Maybes he has my Bible ! ' 'I wadna wunner,' says 
 I. ' O, man Birsay,' she says, ' I hae aye been a freen' 
 o' yours, ye micht e'en see gin he has it, an' seek it aff 
 him ? There's the texts, an' heads, an' particulars o* 
 mony sermon-s o' guid Maister Welsh and precious 
 Maister Guthrie in the hinder-end o' the Buik ! ' 
 
 "'So,' says I, afF-hand like, 'supposin' noo, just 
 supposin' that Sergeant Mulfeather has gotten your bit 
 buik, an' that for freendship for me he was wullin' to 
 pairt wi't, what wad the bit buik be worth to ye? Ye 
 see it's treason to hae sic a thing, and rank conspiracy 
 to thig and barter to get it back — but what wuU 
 freends no do to obleege yin anither ? ' 
 
 " Ay, man Birsay," I said, to encourage him, for I 
 saw that the little man loved to talk. " An' what wull 
 the auld body do then ? " 
 
 " Faith, she'll gie me siller to tak' to Sergeant Mul- 
 feather and get back her bit buikie. An' that's just 
 what Birsay wull do wi' richt guid wull," he concluded 
 cantily. 
 
 "And hae ye ony mair to tell mc, Birsay ? " I asked
 
 BIRSAY THE COBBLER 167 
 
 him. For his talk cheered the long and doleful day, 
 and as for belief, there was no reason why one should 
 believe more than seemed good of Birsay's conversation. 
 
 '' Ay, there's yae thing mair that Birsay has to say 
 to ye. You an' that braw lad wi' the e'en like a lassie's 
 are no richt Whigs, I'm jaloosin'. Ye'll aiblins be o' 
 the same way o' thinkin' as mysel' ! " 
 
 At this I pretended to be much disconcerted, and 
 said: " Wheest, wheest, Birsay! Be canny wi' your 
 tongue ! Mind whaur ye are. What mean you ? " 
 
 "Trust Birsay," he returned cunningly, cocking 
 his frowsy head like a year-old sparrow. " Gin the 
 King, honest man, never comes to mair harm than 
 you an' me v/usses him, he'll come gey weel oot o' 
 some o' the ploys that they blame him for." 
 
 " How kenned ye, Birsay," I said, to humour him, 
 " that we werna Whigs ? " 
 
 " O, I kenned brawly by the fashion o' your shoon. 
 Thae shoon were never made for Whigs, but for honest 
 King's folk. Na, na, they dinna gree well wi' the 
 moss-broo ava — thae sort wi' the narrow nebs and 
 single soles. Only decent, sweering, regairdless folk, 
 that wuss the King weel, tryst shoon like them ! " 
 
 It was clear that Birsay thought us as great traitors 
 and spies in the camp as he was himself. So he opened 
 his heart to us. It was not a flattering distinction, 
 but as the confidence of the little man might be an 
 element in our own safety and that of our friends on 
 some future occasion, I felt that we would assuredly 
 not undeceive him. 
 
 But we had to pay for the distinction, for from that 
 moment he favoured us with a prodigious deal of his 
 conversation, which, to tell the truth, savoured but 
 seldom of wit and often of rank sculduddery.
 
 i68 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Birsay had no sense of his personal dishonour, and 
 would tell the most alarming story to his own discredit, 
 without wincing in the least. He held it proof of his 
 superior caution that he had always managed to keep 
 his skin safe, and so there was no more to be said. 
 
 " Ay, ay," said Birsay, "these are no canny times 
 to be amana: the wild hill-folk. Yin wad need to be 
 weel payed for it a'. There's the twa black 
 McMichaels — they wad think nae mair o' splatterin' 
 your harns again the dyke than o' killing a whutterick. 
 Deil a hair ! An' then, on the ither hand, there's ill- 
 contrived turn-coats like Westerha' that wad aye be 
 pluff-pluffin' poother and shot at puir men as if they 
 were muirfowl. An' he's no parteecler eneuch ava 
 wha he catches, an' never will listen to a word." 
 
 "Then,waur than a', there's the av^^some nichts whan 
 the ghaists and warlocks are aboot. I canna bide the 
 nicht ava. God's daylicht is guid eneuch for Birsay, an' 
 as lang as the sun shines, there's nae fear o' deil or 
 witch-wife gettin' haud o' the puir cobbler chiel ! But 
 when the gloamin' cuddles doon intil the lap o' the 
 nicht, and the corp-cannles lowe i' the bogs, an' ye 
 hear the deils lauchin' and chunnerin' to themselves 
 in a' the busses at the roadsides, I declare every 
 stound o' manhood flees awa' clean oot o' Birsay's 
 heart, an' he wad like to dee but for thocht o' the 
 After-come. An' deed, in the mirk eerie midnicht, 
 whether he's fearder to dee or to leeve, puir Birsay 
 disna ken ! " 
 
 "But, Birsay," I said, "ill-doers are aye ill-dreaders. 
 Gin ye were to drap a' this thievery an' clash-carryin' 
 wark, ye wadna be feared o' man or deil ! " 
 
 "Weel do I ken," Birsay said, "that siccan ploys 
 are no for the like o' me ; but man, ye see, like ither
 
 BIRSAY THE COBBLER 169 
 
 folk I'm terrible fond o' the siller. An' there's nocht 
 so comfortin', when a' thae things are yammerin' to 
 get haud o' ye, as the thocht that ye hae a weel-filled 
 stoclcin'-fit whaur nane but yersel can get haud 
 
 o't ! " 
 
 And the creature writhed himself in glee and slapped 
 his thigh. 
 
 " Yae stockin' fu', man," he said, " an tied wi' a 
 string, an' the ither begun, an' as far up as the instep. 
 
 man, it's blythe to think on ! " 
 
 "But heard ye o' the whummel I gat afF this verra 
 Duchrae kitchen laft ? " said Birsay. He often came 
 over in the gloaming on a news-gathering expedition. 
 For it was a pleasure to give him news of a kind ; and 
 my cousin, who had not a great many occupations 
 since Kate McGhie had gone back to the great House 
 of Balmaghie, took a special delight in making up 
 stories of so ridiculous a nature that Birsay, retailing 
 them at headquarters, would without doubt soon find 
 his credit gone, 
 
 "The way o't was this," Birsay continued. "As 
 
 1 telled ye, I gang frae hoose to hoose in the exer- 
 cise o' my trade. For there's no sic a souter i' the 
 countryside as Birsay, though he says it himsel', an' 
 no siccan water-ticht shoon as his ever gaed on the fit 
 o' man. Weel, it was ae nicht last winter, i' the short 
 days, Birsay was to begin wark at the Duchrae at sax 
 by the clock on Monday morn. An' whan it comes to 
 coontin' hours wi' auld Anton Lennox o' the Duchrae, 
 ye maun begin or the clock has dune the strikin'. Faith 
 an' a' the Lennoxes are the same, they'll haud the nose 
 o' ye to the grundstane — an' the weemen o' them are 
 every hair as bad as the men. There's auld Lucky 
 Lennox o' Lennox Plunton — what said ye ? — aweel.
 
 I70 
 
 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 I'll gang on wi' my story gin ye like, but what's a' the 
 steer so sudden, the nicht's afore us ? 
 
 " As I was sayin', I had to start at Auld Anton's on 
 the Monday mornin', gey an' early. So I thocht I wad 
 do my travellin' in time o' day, an' get to the Duchrae 
 afore the gloamin'. An' in that way I wad get the 
 better o' the bogles, the deils o' the bogs, the black 
 horse o' the Hollan Lane, an' a' sic uncanny cattle. 
 
 "But I minded that the auld tod, Anton Lennox, 
 was a terrible man for examinin' in the Carritches, an' 
 aye speer-speerin' at ye what is the Reason Annexed 
 to some perfectly unreasonable command — an' that 
 kind o' talk disna suit Birsay ava. So what did I do 
 but started ower in the afternoon, an' gat there juist 
 aboot the time when the kye are milkit, an' a' the folk 
 eyther at the byre or in the stable. 
 
 " So I watched my chance frae the end o' the hoose, 
 an' when no a leevin' soul was to be seen, I slippit up 
 the stairs, speelin' on the rungs o' the ladder wi' my 
 stockin' soles as quiet as pussy. 
 
 " Then whan I got to the middle o' the laft, whaur 
 the big hole o' the lum is, wi' the reek hingin' thick 
 afore it gangs oot at the rigging o' the hoose, I keekit 
 doon. An' there at the table, wi' his elbows on the 
 wood, sat Auld Anton takin' his lesson oot o' the big 
 Bible— like the bauld auld Whig that he is, his whinger 
 in a leather tashe swingin' ahint him. It's a queerie 
 tiling that for a' sae often as I hae telled the curate 
 aboot him, he has never steered him. There maun be 
 something no very thorough aboot the curate, an' he 
 none so great a hero wi' the pint stoup either, man ! 
 
 " Aweel, as the forenicht slippit on, an' the lassies 
 cam' in frae the byre, an' the lads frae the stable, it 
 was just as I expected. They drew up their stools
 
 BIRSAY THE COBBLER 171 
 
 aboot the hearth, got oot their Bibles an' warmed their 
 taes. Lord preserve me, to see them sittin' sae croose 
 an' canty ower Effectual Callin' an' Reason Annexed, 
 as gin they had been crackin' an' singin' in a change- 
 hoose ! They're a queer fowk thae Whigs. It wad 
 hae scunnered a soo ! An' twa-three neebours cam' in 
 by to get the benefit o' the exerceeses ! Faith ! if 
 Clavers had chanced to come by the road, he wad hae 
 landed a right bonny flaucht o' them, for there wasna 
 yin o' the rive but had grippit sword at either o' the 
 twa risin's. For a' the auld carles had been at Pent- 
 land an' a' the young plants o' grace had been at 
 Bothwell — ay, an' Auld Anton an' twa-three mair 
 warriors had been at them baith. An' gin there had 
 been a third he wad hae been there too, for he's a grim 
 auld carle, baith gash an' steeve, wi' his Bible an' his 
 brass-muntit pistols an' his Effectual Callin' ! 
 
 " Then bywhiles, atween the spells o' the questions, 
 some o' the young yins fell a-talkin', for even Auld 
 Anton canna haud the tongues o' the young birkies. 
 An' amang ither things what did the loons do but start 
 to lay their ill-scrapit tongues on me, an' begood to 
 misca' puir Birsay for a' that was ill ! " 
 
 " ' Listeners hear nae guid o' themselves,' is an auld- 
 farrant say, Birsay," I said. 
 
 " Aweel," the souter went on, " that's as may be. 
 At ony rate, it was ' Birsay this' an' ' Birsay that,' till 
 every porridge-fed speldron an' ill-gabbit mim-moo'ed 
 hizzie had a lick at puir Birsay. 
 
 " But at the lang an' last the auld man catched them 
 at it, an' he was juist the man to let them hear aboot 
 it on the deafest side o' their heids. He was aye a don 
 at reprovin', was Auld Anton. No mony o' the 
 preachers could haud a can'le to him on the job."
 
 172 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Is it no a gey queer thing," said Birsay, breaking 
 off his story, " that when we set to an' curse a' an' 
 sundry, they ca' it profane sweerin', and misca' us for 
 awesome sinners. But when they lay their tongues to 
 their enemies an' curse them, it's ca'ed a Testimony 
 an' printed in a buik ? " 
 
 The thing did indeed strike me as strange, but I 
 desired to keep Birsay to his story, so I only said : 
 
 " But, Birsay, what did the auld man say to them 
 when he heard them misca'in' you ? " 
 
 " O, he e'en telled them that it wad fit them 
 better to look to their ain life an' conversation. An' 
 that it wad be tellin' them yae day, gin they had made 
 as guid a job o' their life wark as Birsay made o' his 
 bits o' shoon — a maist sensible an' just observe ! Faith, 
 the auld tod is nane sae ill an auld carle, though siccan 
 a dour an' maisterfu' Whig. He kens guid leather 
 wark when he sees it ! 
 
 " So when they were a' sittin' gey an' shame-faced 
 under this reproof — ivhang ! Doon on the hearthstane 
 fell my souter's elshin — the cankersome thing had 
 slippit oot o' my pooch an' drappit ower the edge o' 
 the hole in the laft aboon the fireplace. 
 
 " * Preserve us,' I thought to mysel', ' it's a' by wi' 
 Birsay noo. They'll be up the stair swarmin' like a 
 bee's byke.' But when I keeked it ower, they were a' 
 sittin' gapin' at the elshin that had stottit on to the 
 floor. An' what wi' me steerin' an' lookin' ower the 
 edge, clash fell my braid knife, that I cut the leather 
 wi', oot o' my pooch ! 
 
 " It fell on the clean stane, an' then lap to the side, 
 nearly on to the knees o' a great fat gussie o' a loon 
 they ca' Jock Wabster. An' Jock was in siccan a hurry 
 to get oot o' the road o' the thing — for he thocht it
 
 BIRSAY THE COBBLER 173 
 
 wasna canny — that he owerbalanced himsel', and, 
 certes ! ower he gaed amang the lassies, stool an' a', 
 wi' an awesome clatter. An' a' the lassies cried oot 
 wi' fricht an' gruppit the lad they likit best — for there's 
 a deal o' human nature even amang the Whigs, that 
 the Covenants canna fettle, nor yet Effectual Callin' 
 keep in bounds, and nac doot there's Reason Annexed 
 for that too ! 
 
 " My sang, but whan Auld Anton got him straucht 
 on his chair again, whatna tongue-threshin' did he no 
 gie the lassies, an' indeed a' the lave o' them. He 
 ca'ed them for a'thing that was bad, an' telled them 
 what kin' o' black ill consciences they bood hae, to be 
 feared o' a wee bit thing that was but wood an' airn. 
 But when they showed him the knife whaur it lay 
 glintin' on the hearth (for nae man o' them daured to 
 touch it), Anton was a wee bit staggered himsel', an' 
 said it was a sign sent to reprove them for speakin' 
 aboot puir Birsay on a Sabbath nicht. ' It was a deil's 
 portent,' he said, ' an' nae mortal man ever forged that 
 steel, an' gin onybody touched it he wadna wunner but 
 it wad burn him to the bane, comin' direc' frae sic a 
 place as it had dootless loupit frae.' 
 
 " This tickled me so terribly that I creepit a wee 
 nearer to see the auld tod's face, as he laid it aff to them 
 about the deil's elshin an' his leather knife — that had 
 baith been bocht frae Rab Tamson, the hardware man 
 in the Vennel o' Dumfries, an' wasna payed for yet ! 
 When what d'ye think happened ? 
 
 "Na, ye couldna guess — weel, I creepit maybe a 
 hair ower near the edge. The auld rotten board gied 
 way wi' me, and doon Birsay fell amang the peats on 
 the hearthstane, landin' on my hinderlands wi' a brajige 
 that nearly brocht the hoose doon. I gaed yae skelloch
 
 174 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 as I fell, but, gracious me," said Birsay, waving his 
 hands, " that was as naething to the scraich that the 
 fowk aboot the fire gied. They scattered like a flock 
 o' wild deuks when a chairge o' shot splairges amang 
 them. They thocht the ill auld boy was corned into 
 the midst o' them, an' wi' yae consent they made for 
 the door. Jock Wabster took the hill baa-haain' like 
 a calf as he ran, and even bauld Auld Anton stood by 
 the door cheek wi' his sword point atween him an' the 
 deil v/hummelt on his hearthstane ! 
 
 " But I didna bide lang amang the reed peats, as ye 
 may guess. I was scramblin' oot, whan the auld man 
 gruppit me by the cuff o' the neck, an', maybes be- 
 cause he had been a kennin' frichtit himsel', he gied puir 
 Birsay an awesome warm pair o' lugs. He near dang 
 me stupit. Gin I had gane to the laft to escape 
 Effectual Callin', he didna scruple to gie me Effectual 
 Daudin', an' that without ony speerin' or as muckle's 
 a single reason annexed ! " 
 
 " And what," I said, " came o' Jock Wabster ? " 
 
 "'Deed as for Jock," said Birsay, "thereupon he 
 got great experience o' religion and gaed to join John 
 Gib and his company on the Flowe o' the Deer-Slunk, 
 where Maister Lennox vanquished them. But he 
 didna catch Jock, for Jock said gin he had beat the 
 deil flat-fit in a race, he wasna feared for any Lennox 
 o' the squad. But Jock was aye ower great wi' the 
 weemen folk, an' sae John Gib's notions just suited 
 him." 
 
 Here Birsay made an end of his story, for Anton 
 Lennox himself came in, and of him Birsay stood in 
 great and wholesome awe.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE SANQUHAR DECLARATION 
 
 I THINK it was during the week I lay thus in the 
 barn at the Duchrae, often with Richard Cameron 
 or his young brother Michael at my back in the quiet 
 of the corn-mow, that first I got within me the true 
 spirit of the Covenant. Then it was that I heard all 
 the troubles and the sins of Scotland redd* up and 
 made plain ; for in the night watches Cameron and 
 his brother had great communings together. Richard 
 was all for being done with the authority of the King, 
 and making but one cast for it. Michael thought 
 that the time was not ripe nor the men ready. ' 
 
 Now these two youths were they who chiefly set 
 Scotland in a lowe at this time, when Lauderdale had 
 so nearly trampled out the red cinders of the fire of 
 Presbytery. It was strange to think, that he who 
 should blow them again into a flame had once been 
 a Prelatist, and that from the wicked shire of Fife. 
 When one cast it up to him, Richard Cameron said : 
 
 " Ay, it humbles us all to remember the pit from 
 which we were digged ! " 
 
 Then one night in the barn we gave in very 
 solemnly our adhesions to the disowning of Charles 
 Stuart and his brother James— all save my cousin 
 Wat, who said : 
 
 * Cleared up.
 
 T76 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " I canna bide to cast ofF the blood of Bruce. I 
 had rather kiss the Red Maiden." 
 
 And with that, early in the morning he left us, 
 which was a surprising grief to mc, for he and I had 
 been brothers in peril during many months. Whither 
 he went I knew not then, but it shall be related in its 
 proper place and all that befell him in his lonely 
 wanderings, after he parted from me. 
 
 " We must not do this thing lightly or gladly," 
 said Richard Cameron to us that abode with him in 
 the barn. "We have laid our accounts with the worst 
 that the Government may do to us. We count not 
 our lives dear. We see plainly that nought is to be 
 gained save by defiance, any more. The Indulgence 
 is but a dish of sowens with a muzzle thereafter, to 
 make us for ever dumb dogs that will not bark. Who 
 shall hinder or blame, if we choose to lay down our 
 lives in the high places of the field, that the old faith 
 be not forgotten, neither the old Covenant engage- 
 ments to our Lord Christ for ever abrogated ? " 
 
 Yet I think there was not one of us that was not 
 heart-sorry to break with the House of Stuart. For 
 after all we were of Scotland, and we or our fathers 
 had stood for the Scots House and the Scots King 
 against Cromwell and the supplanters. At any rate, 
 let it not be said of us that we did this thing hghtly; 
 but rather with heavy hearts, because the King had 
 been so far left to himself as to forswear and abandon 
 the solemn engagements which he had undertaken. 
 
 So it came to pass in the mid-days of the year, that 
 one afternoon we rode away through the lonely hills by 
 Minnyhivc, and turned north up the fair valley of the 
 water of Nith. Here and there we gathered one to 
 whom the word had been passed, finding them waiting
 
 THE SANQUHAR DECLARATION 177 
 
 for us at some green loaning foot or at the mouth of 
 some glen. Little we said when a friend joined us ; 
 for our work was sad and solemn, and to be done once 
 and for all. We rode as it were under the shadow of 
 the scaffold. Yet I think we thought not so much of 
 ourselves, as of the women-folk that abode at home. 
 I know that I was wae for my mother, who was now 
 like to lose her two sons as she had aforetime lost her 
 husband. And sometimes also I thought of the lass 
 Maisie Lennox, and what she would do wanting her 
 father. 
 
 But this I put from me, for after all Covenanting 
 was man's business. And as Richard Cameron said : 
 
 "They that. are trysted to the Bridegroom's work, 
 must taigle themselves with no other marriage engage- 
 ments ! " 
 
 At the Menick foot, where that long stey pass 
 begins, there met us ten men of the Upper Ward, all 
 douce and stalwart men, armed and horsed as well as 
 any of our men out of Galloway. I was the youngest 
 of them all there, and indeed the only one that was 
 not a mighty man of his arms. There had been 
 indeed some talk of leaving me at the Duchrae to keep 
 the place — which I knew to be but an excuse. But one 
 James Gray of Chryston, a laird's son and a strong 
 man, cried out, " Let the lad come, for his brother 
 Sandy's sake ! " 
 
 A saying which nettled me, and I replied instantly : 
 
 " Let any man stand out against me with the pistol 
 and small sword, and I will show him cause why I 
 should come for mine own ! " 
 
 At this Cameron rebuked me : 
 
 " Ah, William, I see well that thou hast the old 
 Adam in thee yet. But was there ever a Gordon that 
 
 M
 
 178 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 would not go ram-stam at the boar, whatever his 
 religion ? " 
 
 Then I, who knew that I had spoken as a carnal 
 man, was somewhat shamed. Yet was I glad also 
 that no man took my challenge, for indeed I had small 
 skill of the sword. And with the shearing sword especi- 
 ally, my blows were as rat-tail licks to the dead strikes 
 of Richard Cameron or even those of my brother Sandy. 
 But nevertheless only to say the thing, did me good 
 like medicine. 
 
 So into the town of Sanquhar we rode two and two, 
 very slow and quiet, for Cameron had forbidden us to 
 ride with a tight rein and the horses champing, as 
 indeed I longed to do for pride and the lust of the eye. 
 
 "For thus," said he, "do the King's troopers, when 
 they enter a town, to take the eyes of the unthinking. 
 But contrariwise, we are come to do a deed in Scot- 
 land that shall not be forgotten while Nith water 
 runs, and to tie a band which shall not be broken 
 through. We ourselves shall fall and that speedily — 
 that know we well — but, nevertheless, that which we 
 do this day shall one day bring, the tyrant's downfall ! " 
 
 And so indeed it proved to be. 
 
 Sanquhar is ever a still place, as though there were 
 no other day there but the Sabbath only. Also the 
 inhabitants are douce and grave, and so remain to this 
 day — buying and selling, eating and drinking, as though 
 they were alone on God's universe. But that day as 
 we came riding up the street, there was a head at every 
 window and I heard the wives cry : 
 
 " The hill-folk have risen and come riding into 
 Sanquhar ! " 
 
 And this pleased me in the heart, though I know 
 well I should have had my mind set on other matters.
 
 THE SANQUHAR DECLARATION 179 
 
 At the cross we formed up, setting our horses ten 
 on either side and Richard Cameron in the midst, he 
 alone dismounted and standing on the steps of the 
 cross. We sat still and quiet, all being bareheaded. 
 For show I had plucked my brand out of its scabbard. 
 But Cameron sternly bade me put it back again, and 
 gave me his horse to hold instead. Which thing 
 grieved and shamed me at the time sadly enough, 
 though now I am both proud and glad of it. 
 
 "The time for drawn steel is yet to come, William. 
 Be sure that thou art then as ready as now," he 
 said. 
 
 We sang our psalm of Covenant-keeping, and the 
 hills gave it back to us, as though the angels were 
 echoing the singing of it softly in heaven. After that, 
 Cameron stood up very straight, and on his face, which 
 was as the face of a lion, there was a great tenderness, 
 albeit of the sterner sort. 
 
 The townsfolk stood about, but not too near, being 
 careful and cautious lest they should be called in 
 question for compliance with the deed, and the strange 
 work done by us that day j for the King's scoop-net 
 gathered wide. Also the innocent were often called to 
 judgment, especially if they had something to lose in 
 goods or gear, as was the case with many of the well- 
 doing burghers of Sanquhar. 
 
 " This day," cried Cameron, loudly and solemnly, 
 after he had prayed, *' do we come to this town of 
 Sanquhar to cast off our allegiance to Charles Stuart 
 and his brother James. Not hastily, neither to make 
 ourselves to be spoken about, but with solemnity as 
 men that enter well-knowing into the ante-chamber of 
 death. An we desired our own lives, we should receive 
 Tests and Indulgences thankfully ; and go sit in our
 
 i8o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 kennels, like douce tykes that are ready to run at the 
 platter and whistle. 
 
 " But for all that, we are loyal men and no rebels, 
 though to-day we cast off Charles Stuart — aye, and 
 will do our best to make an end of his rule, so that he 
 shall no more reign over this realm. This we shall 
 do, not by private assassination, which we abhor and 
 abominate ; but by the levying of open war. We de- 
 clare ourselves loyal to any covenanted king — ay, and 
 had Charles Stuart kept his engagements, plighted and 
 sworn, there is no man here that would not right 
 gladly have laid down his life for him. 
 
 " All ye that stand by, hear this word of Richard 
 Cameron ! There are those behind me that heard 
 with their ears the oath that the King sware at Perth, 
 when before the Solemn Convocation he spake these 
 words : ' I, Charles, King of Great Britain and Ireland, 
 do assure and declare by my solemn oath in the presence 
 of Almighty God, the Searcher of hearts, my allowance 
 and approbation of the National Covenant and of the 
 Solemn League and Covenant above written, and 
 faithfully oblige myself to prosecute the ends thereof 
 in my station and calling.' 
 
 "The King," cried Cameron, "who sware these 
 oaths hath cast us off. We have not cast off the King! 
 There is one waiting in the Low Countries whence I 
 came, and looking towards the hills of Scotland, to see 
 if there be any faithful. Shall the fortress be utterly 
 broken down with none to build her up ? Are there 
 no watchmen to tell the towers thereof — none to cry 
 from rampart to rampart, 'What of the night ? ' Ay, 
 there be here in Sanquhar town this day at the least 
 twenty men that have not bowed the knee to Baal. 
 This day we come to lay down our lives, as happily as
 
 THE SANQUHAR DECLARATION i8i 
 
 children that have spent their play-day in the fields, and 
 being tired, would lay them down to sleep. But ere we 
 go, because the time cannot be long, we come to give 
 the banner of the Lord once more to the winds — the 
 banner of that other Kingdom in Scotland that is 
 Christ's. Behold ! " 
 
 And with that he lifted up the banner-staff which he 
 held in his hand, and there floated out upon the equal- 
 blowing wind the blue banner of Christ's Covenant. 
 And as the golden scroll of it took the air, there came 
 that into the hearts of most of us, which filled them to 
 the overflow. The tears ran down and fell upon our 
 horses' necks. "For Christ's Crown and Cove- 
 nant," ran the legend. Then we gathered ourselves 
 closer about the battle-flag, for which we had come 
 out to die. As one man we drew our swords, nor did 
 Cameron now gainsay us — and hfting them high up, 
 till the sun glinted bonnily upon them, we sang our 
 solemn banding song. I never felt my heart so high 
 or heaven so near, not even at the great field-preaching 
 by the water of Dee, when I sat by the side of Maisie 
 Lennox. Even thus we sang : 
 
 " God is our refuge and our strength, 
 In straits a present aid ; 
 Therefore, although the earth remove, 
 We will not be afraid." 
 
 Then we rode out or Sanquhar town, for once 
 gallantly enough, having solemnly set ourselves to face 
 the King in open field — we that were but twenty men 
 against three kingdoms. Well we knew that we should 
 be put down, but we knew also that so long as there 
 were a score of men in Scotland, to do as we had done
 
 i82 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 that day, the cause and the flag would never be wholly 
 put down. 
 
 So the douce burghers of Sanquhar watched us ride 
 iway, our swords gleaming naked because we had 
 appealed to the sword, and were prepared to perish by 
 the sword, as the word is. Also our blue banner of 
 the Covenant waved bravely over our heads, in token 
 of our dependence on Jehovah, the God of battles. 
 
 And as we rode, was it not I, William Gordon of 
 Earlstoun, who carried the banner-stafF, for Richard 
 Cameron had given it into my hands ? So I had not 
 lived in vain, and Sandy would never again bid me sew 
 bairn-clouts, and bide at home among the women. I 
 wished my father had been alive to see me.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS 
 
 The morning of the twenty-second of July dawned 
 solemnly clear. It promised to be a day of slumberous 
 heat, for the haze lay long in the hollows, hesitating to 
 disappear, and there was the brooding of thunder in 
 the air. We that were of Cameron's little company 
 found ourselves in a wild place on the moors. Most 
 of our Galloway men had betaken themselves home, 
 and they that had come out of Lanarkshire and Ayr 
 were the greater part of the scanty company. The 
 name of the place where we sojourned was Ayrsmoss, 
 We had lain sleepless and anxious all night, with 
 watchers posted about among the moss-hags. Richard 
 Cameron spoke often to us, and told us that the 
 matter had at last come to the narrow and bitter 
 
 pass. 
 
 " It is the day of the Lord's anger," he said, "and it 
 is expedient that some men should die for the people ! " 
 
 We told him that we were ready, and that from the 
 beginning we had counted on nothing else. But 
 within me I felt desperately ill-prepared : yet, for the 
 sake of the banner I carried, I tholed and said nothing. 
 
 It was about ten of the day, and because we heard 
 not from our folk who had been posted to give warning, 
 we sent out other two to find them. Then having 
 taken a meal of meat for the better sustaining of our 
 bodies, we lay down to sleep for an hour on a pleasant
 
 1 84 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 green place, which is all surrounded by morasses, for 
 we had gotten no rest the night before. 
 
 Now I think we were all fey at this time, for we 
 laid us down on the edge of the moss in a place that is 
 open to all. And this when we might have withdrawn 
 ourselves deep into the bog, and so darned ourselves 
 among the "quakking quas" — dangerous and impassable 
 flowes, so that no dragoons in the world could have 
 come at us. But this we did not, for the word and 
 doom were written. It was our enemies' day. As 
 Cameron said that morning as we passed the house 
 of William Mitchell in Meadowhead, and when they 
 brought him out a basin and water to wash his hands, 
 also a towel wherewith to dry them : 
 
 " This is their last washing. My head and hands 
 are now cleansed for the offering ! " 
 
 So w^e laid us down among a great swirling of 
 whaups and crying of peesweeps. For the season of 
 their nesting was hardly over, and all the moorland 
 was astir with their plaintive notes. 
 
 After a long time I awoke, dreaming that Maisie 
 Lennox stood by my bedside and took my hand, saying, 
 " The kye are in the corn ! " I sat up, and, lo, there 
 within half a mile, and beating the moor in search 
 of us, were two companies of dragoons, of the 
 number of about one hundred and twenty, as near as 
 at a glance I could reckon. My heart gave a stound, 
 and I said to myself, "This is surely thy death-day, 
 William Gordon ! " And the word sounded trangely 
 in my heart, for I had begun to think my life worth 
 living in these latter days, and was none so keen upon 
 the dying as were some others of our company. 
 
 But on the instant I awakened Cameron and his 
 brother Michael, and also David Hackstoun of
 
 THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS 185 
 
 Rathillet, that was a soldier most stern, but yet a 
 Just man according to his h'ghts. And they sat up 
 and saw the soldiers sweeping the moor. But, as I 
 say, we were all fey. For even then it was within 
 our power to have escaped the violence of the men 
 of war. Very easily could we have left our horses, and 
 betaken us into the deepest parts of the bottomless 
 shaking bogs, where no man could have followed us. 
 But the thought came not to us at the time. For 
 God had so ordered it, that Scotland was best to be 
 served that day by the death of many of His servants. 
 
 There was in our company twenty-three that had 
 horses and forty that had none. But we were all 
 armed in some sort of fashion. 
 
 Now, this Richard Cameron had in him both the 
 heart of a fighter and the fearlessness of a man assured 
 of his interest. He cried out to inquire of us if we 
 were firmly set in our minds to fight, and with one 
 voice we answered him, " Ay ! " We were of one 
 heart and one mind. Our company and converse had 
 been sweet in the darkness, and now we were set to 
 die together in the noonday, gladly as men that have 
 made them ready for the entering in of the bride- 
 chamber. 
 
 So in that sullen morning, with the birds crying 
 and the mist drawing down into thunder-clouds, we 
 rose to make our last stand. I had given up all thought 
 of escape, and was putting in hard steeks at the pray- 
 ing. For the sins that were on my soul were many, and 
 I had too recently taken to that way of thinking to 
 have the comfort and assurance of my elders. 
 
 Now, the soldiers that came against us were the 
 finest companies of Airly's and Strachan's dragoons — 
 gallant lads all — newly brought to that countryside
 
 i86 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 and not yet inured to the cruel riding and shooting, as 
 other companies were. I have not a word to say 
 against the way they fought, though, as their duty was, 
 they came against us with haste and fury. Our quarrel 
 was not with them, but with their master. 
 
 They rode gallantly enough this way and that through 
 the morasses, and came on bravely. Bruce of Earlshall 
 was over them, but John Crichton was their best 
 fighter. A stark and cruel man he was, that would 
 have hunted us all down if he could. He fought that 
 day with his blade swinging all the time, damning and 
 cursing between every blow. But, for all that, he was 
 siclc and sorry ere he left this field. For if ever man 
 did, he met his match when he crossed swords with 
 the Lion of the Covenant. It was Rathillet who 
 chose the place of strength for us to make our 
 stand, and as it seemed and mostly proved, to take 
 our deaths upon. There was little time for the Word 
 and the Prayer. But, as was our custom, we sang a 
 cheerful psalm, and lifted up our bonnets while Cameron 
 prayed : 
 
 " Lord, spare the green and take the ripe ! " That 
 was the whole matter of his supplication. " We may 
 never be in better case to die. I see the gates of 
 heaven cast wide open to receive us." 
 
 And I noted that all the time of our singing David 
 Hackstoun of Rathillet was looking to the priming of 
 his pistols, and drawing the edge of his sword-blade 
 along the back of his hand, as ons that tries a razor 
 ere he sets it to his chin. Then the companies of the 
 enemy halted on the edge of the moss where the 
 ground was yet firm. They seemed not disinclined 
 for a parley. 
 
 "Do you own the King's ;iuthority ?" cried on©
 
 THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS 187 
 
 among them. It was Bruce of Earlshall, a buirdly* 
 chiel, and one not greatly cruel ; but rather, like Mon- 
 mouth, anxious to let the poor remnant have its due. 
 
 " Ay ! " cried Cameron, " we own the King's 
 authority." 
 
 *' Wherefore, then, stand ye there in arms against 
 his forces ? " came the answer back. " Yield, and ye 
 shall have quarter and fair conduct to Edinburgh ! " 
 
 The man spake none so evilly for a persecutor, and 
 in my heart I liked him. 
 
 "I thank you. Captain Bruce, for your fair speech," 
 said Cameron, " but I wot well you mean fair passage 
 to the Grassmarket. The King we own is not King 
 Charles Stuart, and it liketh us to go to our King's 
 court through the crash of battle, rather than through 
 the hank of the hangman's twine." 
 
 " This preacher is no man of straw — fight he will,'* 
 I heard them say one to the other, for they were near 
 to us, even at the foot of the opposite knoll. 
 
 Then our horsemen, of whom I was one, closed in 
 order without further word, and our foot drew out 
 over the moss in readiness to fire. David Hackstoun 
 was with us on the left, and Captain Fowler on the 
 right. But Richard Cameron was always a little 
 ahead of us all, with his brother Michael with him on 
 one side, and I, riding my Galloway nag, close upon 
 his right flank — which was an honourable post for 
 one so young as I, and served withal to keep my spirits 
 up. 
 
 Just before he gave the word to charge, he cried 
 out to us, pointing to the enemy with his sword : 
 
 " Yonder is the way to the good soldier's crown ! " 
 
 • Sturdjr,
 
 1 88 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 The day had been clouding over, the heat growing 
 almost intolerable. It was now about two in the 
 afternoon. It was easy to see, had we had the eyes to 
 observe it, that a thunderstorm was brewing. And even 
 as Richard Cameron stretched out his sword over his 
 horse's head, and cried on to us to charge in the name 
 of the Lord, the first levin-bolt shot down, glittering 
 into the moor like a forked silver arrow. And over our 
 head the whole firmament raired and crashed. 
 
 "The Captain of our Salvation calls for us ! " cried 
 Cameron. " Who follows after, when the Son of God 
 rides forth to war ! " 
 
 So with that we lowered our sword-points and drave 
 at them. I think I must have ridden with my eyes 
 shut, down that little green knowe with the short 
 grass underfoot. I know that, even as we rode, the 
 thunder began to roar about us, girding us in a con- 
 tinuous ring of lightning-flashes. 
 
 Yet, at the time, I seemed to ride through a world 
 of empty silence, even when I struck the red broil of 
 battle. I could see Cameron crying out and waving 
 his sv/ord before us as our horses gathered way, but I 
 remember no more till the shock came and we found 
 ourselves threshing headlong among them. I fired 
 my pistols right and left, and set them in my belt 
 again, though the habit was to throw them away. I 
 had my sword dangling by a lingel or tag at my right 
 wrist, for I had learned from Wat Gordon how to 
 fight it upon horseback when it came to the charge. 
 The first man that I came against was a great dragoon 
 on a grey horse. He shouted an oath of contempt, 
 seeing me so slender and puny. Yet, for all his bulk, 
 I had him on the wrong side, so that he could not use 
 his sword-arm with advantage. And as I passed on
 
 THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS 189 
 
 my stout little nag, I got my sword well home under 
 his armpit and tumbled him off into the mire. 
 
 The stoutness of our charge took the enemy entirely 
 by surprise. Indeed, afterwards they gave us all the 
 testimony of being brave, resolute men ; and, like 
 soldiers and gentlemen as they were, they used them 
 that were taken very civilly. I could see Cameron 
 before me smiting and slaying, slaying and smiting, 
 rising in his stirrup at every blow and calling on his 
 men. It was a wild, fierce time, all too short — a 
 happy turmoil of blows wherein I drank for the first 
 time the heady delight of battle. All over the wild 
 moss of Ayr that great day the swords flickered like 
 lightning-flashes, and the lightnings darted like sword- 
 blades. Oh, how many quiet times would I not give 
 for such another glorious wager of battle. 
 
 Overhead all the universe roared as we fought, and 
 I had no thought save of the need to keep my point 
 up — thrusting, parrying, and striking as God gave me 
 abihty. 
 
 Right in the midst of the press there came two at 
 me from opposite sides ; and I saw very well that, it 
 I got no help, there was no more of life for me. 
 " Richard ! " I cried, and the shout must have gone 
 to our leader's ear, though I mvself could not hear it, 
 so great was the clangour and the din. 
 
 Cameron had been smiting with the strength of ten 
 immediately on my front. In a moment more he 
 cleared his point, pierced his man, and turned. The 
 man on my left swerved his horse out of his way, 
 for Cameron came with a surge. But the other, 
 whom I took to be Crichton, met him fair, blade to 
 blade. The first clash of the swords was mighty. 
 These two lowering black men met and knew each
 
 igo THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 other, soon as they looked one another in the 
 eyes. 
 
 But I could see that Cameron was ever the stronger 
 and swifter, though Crichton had somewhat the more 
 skill. Crichton tried to pass him a little, that he 
 might get arm-play for his famous back-strokes, where- 
 with he was renowned to have cut off a man's head at 
 a blow ; but Cameron measured his guard and the 
 blow whistled harmless past his ear. Then came the 
 return. The preacher's sword streaked it out straight 
 and level, and for a moment seemed to stand full mid- 
 blade in the dragoon's side. 
 
 The next moment we two found ourselves outside 
 their first line. We had broken our way through, and 
 the enemy were in confusion behind us. I saw many 
 single combats going forward, and in especial a most 
 noble fight between David Hackstoun of Rathillet and 
 one of his own acquaintances, by name David Ramsay, 
 a gentleman of his country. As they fought I could 
 hear Hackstoun, whom nothing could daunt or disturb, 
 asking i Ramsay all the news of the countryside, and 
 how such a one did, what wife had gotten another 
 child and whether it were a lad or a lass. Which is 
 a thing I should never have believed if any man had 
 told me. And when I set it down here I expect not 
 to be believed of any, save by those who have been 
 in the thick of a civil war themselves. But all that 
 knew David Hackstoun of Rathillet will beheve that 
 this thing is true of him. 
 
 So he fought, clashing swords and talking at his 
 ease, without change of countenance, till he was 
 stricken down with three coming on him at once 
 from behind. 
 
 Then, seeing otir horsemen scattered, Cameron cried
 
 THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS 19! 
 
 them to him, and we galloped towards their second 
 line that came riding unbroken towards us. Now it 
 was our misfortune that the dragoons were stark fellows 
 and had seen service, so that they gave not back as 
 others might have done, seeing us come on so deter- 
 minedly. Rather they reserved their powder till we 
 were almost at the sword's length. Then they fired, 
 and I saw our men falling over in twos and threes. But 
 Richard Cameron still rode steadily with Michael and 
 myself behind him. His horse had once been white, 
 but now was mostly dripping red — a fearsome sight to 
 see. I heard afterwards from old soldiers that had been 
 in the fights of the ancient days, that no such terrify- 
 ing figure had they ever seen in the wars, since Noll 
 led on the Ironsides at Marston Moor. 
 
 But Cameron's case was far more desperate than 
 had ever been that of Oliver. 
 
 " Smite ! Smite ! " he cried. " The sword of the 
 Lord and of Gideon ! " 
 
 Over all the field there was only the whinnying of 
 swords as they whistled through the air, and at the 
 edges of the fray the dropping rattle of the musketry. 
 As we touched their second line we seemed to ride in 
 upon a breast-high wave of flame, which might have 
 been Earlshall's flashing muskets or God's own level 
 lightnings. I rode as best I could behind Cameron, 
 striking when I had opportunity and warding as I had 
 need. But, though I was here in the forefront of the 
 battle, I was in the safest place. For Richard Cameron 
 ploughed a lane through their company, sending them 
 to right and left before him as the foam is ploughed 
 by a swift vessel. 
 
 But our desperate riders were now wearing few. I 
 looked behind us, and only two seemed to be in the
 
 192 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 saddle — ^James Gray of Chryston and Michael 
 Cameron, who had both promised to ding the stoor 
 that day out of his Majesty's red-clouts. I could see 
 Chryston striking, and grunting as he struck, exactly 
 like a man hagging hard wood with a blunt axe. 
 
 So I found myself out at the side of the fight. But, 
 just when I thought myself clear, there came a blow 
 on my steel cap that nearly dang me out of the saddle, 
 and I drew out further again. Cameron also had won 
 clear ; but, seeing his brother Michael hard beset, he 
 turned rein and drave in among the smother again, 
 raging like the lion he was. How his horse kept his 
 feet on the moss I know not, for Cameron seemed 
 constantly to be standing up in his stirrups, leaning for- 
 ward to give his blade more play. So he rode into the 
 midst of them, till he was brought to a stand in what 
 seemed a ring of foes. Even there I could see his arm 
 rise and fall, as steadily as a man that flails corn in a 
 barn. And wherever he struck was a gap, for there 
 a man went down. But more and more of them 
 gathered about, threshing at him with their swords, 
 some on horse and some on foot, like boys killing 
 wasps at the taking of a byke. 
 
 Then when Richard Cameron saw that he could do 
 no more, and that all the men were down that had fol- 
 lowed him, his brother Michael also dying at his feet, 
 he swept his sword every way about him to clear a 
 space for a moment. Then he swung the brand over 
 his head high in the air, casting it from him into the 
 sky, till it seemed to enter into the dark cloud where 
 the thunder brooded and the smoke of powder hung. 
 
 " God of battles, receive my sinful soul ! " he cried. 
 
 And with that he joined his hands like a man 
 that dives for swimming ; and, unwounded, unhurt,
 
 THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS 193 
 
 yet fighting to the last, Richard Cameron sprang 
 upon a hundred sword-points. Thus died the bravest 
 man in broad Scotland, whom men called, and called 
 well, the Lion of the Covenant. 
 
 And, even as he passed, the heavens opened, and 
 the whole firmament seemed but one lightning-flash, 
 so that all stood aghast at the marvellous bright- 
 ness. Which occasioned the saying that God sent a 
 chariot of fire with horses of whiteness to bring home 
 to Him the soul of Richard Cameron. Whereof 
 some men bear testimony that they saw ; but indeed 
 I saw nothing but a wondrous lightning-flash over 
 the whole heaven. Then, a moment after, the thunder 
 crashed like the breaking up of the world, and there 
 was an end. 
 
 N
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT 
 
 As for me, when I had seen this, thinking it to be 
 enough, I put spurs to my Httle Gallov/ay, and we 
 were soon at speed over the moss-hags. My beast 
 was well acquainted with moss running, for it had 
 not carried me so often over the moor to Lochinvar 
 for nothing. I heard tempestuous crying, as of men 
 that pursued, and, strangely and suddenly, behind me 
 the roar of battle sank into silence. Once I glanced 
 back and saw many footmen running and horsemen 
 rising and falling in their saddles. But, all being lost, 
 I left the field of Ayrsmoss behind me as fast as I 
 might, and set my horse's head over the roughest and 
 boggiest country, keeping toward Dalmellington, for 
 the wilderness was now to be my home. For the 
 time I had had enough of rebellion under arms. I 
 was not unfaithful to the cause, nor did I regret what 
 I had done. But I judged that, for some time to 
 come, it were better for me not to see company, for I 
 had no pleasure in it. 
 
 Now, in further telling my tale I must put together 
 all the incidents of my fleeing to the heather — for that 
 being a thing at the time very frequently resorted to, 
 it became at last a word in Scotland that "to take to 
 the heather was to be in the way of getting grace." 
 
 Now, when I sped away to the south-east from 
 Ayrsmoss, the folk I loved were all killed, and I had
 
 HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT 195 
 
 no hope or hold of any present resistance to the King. 
 But my Galloway sheltie, being nimble on his feet, 
 took me bravely over the moss-hags, carrying me 
 lightly and willingly as if I had been hare-coursing on 
 the green holms of the Ken. 
 
 As I fled I kept glancing behind me and seeing the 
 soldiers in red clothes and flashing arms still pursuing 
 after. I saw also our foot (that had stood off when 
 we charged, and only fired as they saw need), scatter- 
 ing through the moss, and the enemy riding about the 
 borders wherever their horses could go, firing at them. 
 Yet I think that not many of them were hurt in the 
 pursuit, for the moss at that place was very boss, and 
 full of bottomless bogs, like that from which Patrick 
 Laing drew the redoubtable persecutor Captain Crich- 
 ton. This incident, indeed, bred in the breasts of the 
 dragoons a wholesome fear of the soft hoggish places, 
 which made greatly in many instances for the pre- 
 servation of the wanderers, and in especial favoured 
 me in my present enterprise. 
 
 In a little after, two of the four dragoons that 
 followed me, seeing another man running like to burst 
 through the moss, turned aside and spurred their 
 horses after him, leaving but two to follow me. 
 
 Yet after this I was harder put to it than ever, 
 for the sun was exceedingly hot above and the moss 
 as difiicult beneath. But I kept to it, thinking that, 
 after all, by comparison I was in none such an evil 
 case. For, though my head ached with the steel cap 
 upon it and my horse sweated, yet it must have been 
 much more doleful for the heavy beasts and completely 
 accoutred dragoons toiling in the rear. So over the 
 broken places of the moor I went faster than they, 
 though on the level turf they would doubtless soon
 
 196 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 have ridden me down. But then, after all, they were 
 but riding to kill one Whig the more, while I to save 
 my neck — which made a mighty difference in the 
 earnestness of our intents on that day of swithering 
 heat. 
 
 Many a time it came to me to cast myself from 
 my beast and run to the side, trusting to find a moss- 
 hag where I might lie hidden up to my neck among 
 the water with my head among the rushes. I saw 
 many good and safe places indeed, but I remembered 
 that my sheltie would be an advertisement to the pur- 
 suers, so I held on my way. Besides, Donald had 
 been a good friend to me, and was the only one of our 
 company that had ever been on the bonny holms of 
 Earlstoun. So that I was kindly affectioned to the 
 beast, and kept him to his work though the country 
 was very moorish and the sun hot on my head. 
 
 Once I was very nearly taken. For as I went, not 
 knowing the way, I came to a morass where in the 
 midst there was a secure place, as it seemed to me. I 
 put Donald at it, and when I reached the knoll — lo ! 
 it was only some nine or ten yards square — the bottom- 
 less swelter of shaking bogs girding it in on the further 
 side. Donald went to the girths at the first stride on 
 the other side, so that there was nothing for it but to 
 dismount and pull him out. 
 
 Then up came the dragoons, riding heavily and 
 cursing the sun and me. They rode round skirting 
 the moss ; for, seeing the evil case I was in, they 
 dared not come nearer for fear of the same, or worse. 
 They kept, therefore, wide about me, crying, " Come 
 out, dog, and be shot ! " 
 
 Which, being but poor encouragement, I v/as in no 
 wise eager to obey their summons.
 
 HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT 197 
 
 But by holding on to the heather of the moss — by 
 the kind providence of God, it was very long and 
 tough — I managed to get Donald out of his peril. 
 He was a biddable enough beast, and, being a little 
 deaf, he knew not fear. For reesting and terror 
 among horses are mostly but over-sharpness in hearing, 
 and an imagination that they were better without. 
 But Donald had no good hearing and no bad forebod- 
 ings. So when I pulled him among the long heather, 
 and put his head down, he lay like a scent-dog, cowered 
 along by the side of the moss-hags. Then the pair 
 by the edge of the morass began to shoot at me, for 
 the distance was within reach of pistol-ball. The first 
 bullet that came clipped so close to my left ear that 
 it took away a lock of my hair, which, contrary to my 
 custom, had now grown longish. 
 
 All this time they ceased not for a moment to cry, 
 " Come out, dog, and be shot ! " They were ill- 
 mannered rampaging loons with little sense, and I 
 desired no comings and goings with them. So in no 
 long time I tired of this, and also of lying still to be 
 shot at. I bethouo;ht me that I mio-ht show them a 
 better of it, and afford some sport. So very carefully 
 I charged both my pistols, and the next time they 
 came near, riding the bog-edge to fire at me, I took 
 careful aim and shot at the first of them. The ball 
 went through the calf of his leg, which caused him to 
 light off the far-side of his horse with a great roar. 
 
 " You have killed me," he cried over to me com- 
 plainingly, as if he had been a good friend come to pay 
 me a visit, to whom I had done a treachery. Then he 
 cursed me very resentfully, because, forsooth (as he 
 said) he was about to be made a sergeant in the com- 
 pany, and, what with lying up with his wounded leg,
 
 198 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 some other (whom he mentioned) would get the post 
 by favour of the captain. 
 
 " See what you have done ! " said he, holding up 
 his leg. 
 
 But I took aim with the other pistol and sent a ball 
 singing over his head, very close. 
 
 " Trip it, my bonny lad," I cried, " or there will be 
 a hole of the same size in your thick head, which will 
 be as good as a cornet's commission to you in the 
 place to which it will send you ! " 
 
 Then I charged my pistols again and ordered them 
 away. The trooper's companion made bold to leave 
 his horse and come towards me crawling upon the 
 moss. But I turned my pistols so straightly upon 
 him, that he was convinced that I must be a marks- 
 man by trade, and so desisted from the attempt. 
 
 All this made me proud past reasoning, and I 
 mounted in their sight, and made a work of fastening 
 my accoutrements and tightening Donald's girths. 
 
 " So good-day to you ! " I cried to them, " and give 
 my compliments to your captain and tell him from me 
 that he hath a couple of varlets in his company very 
 careful of their skins in this world — which is, maybe, 
 as well — seeing that in the next they are secure of 
 getting them well paid." 
 
 Now this was but the word of a silly boy, and I 
 was sorry for taunting the men before ever I rode away. 
 But I set it down as it happened, that all may come in 
 its due place, nothing in this history being either 
 altered or extenuated. 
 
 So all that night I fled, and the next day also, till I 
 came into my own country of the Glenkcns, where 
 near to Carsphairn I left Donald with a decent man 
 that would keep him safe for my mother's sake. For
 
 HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT 199 
 
 the little beast was tired and done, having come so far 
 and been ridden so hard. Yet when I left him out in 
 the grass-park there was not so much as the mark of a 
 spur upon him, so willingly had he come over all the 
 leagues of heather-lands. 
 
 While life lasts shall I not forget Donald. 
 
 My father used often to tell us what Maxwell of 
 Monreith said when he lit off his grey horse at the 
 stable-door and turned him out after riding; him home 
 from Rullion Green : " Thou hast done thy day's 
 work, Pentland. There is a park for thee to fill thy 
 belly in for the rest of thy days. No leg shall ever 
 cross thy back again ! " 
 
 So when I came to my own in the better days, I 
 made it my care that Donald was not forgotten ; and 
 all his labour in the future, till death laid him low, was 
 no more than a gentle exercise to keep him from 
 over-eating himself on the meadow-lands of Afton. 
 
 After the great day of dule, when Cameron was 
 put down at Ayrsmoss and I escaped in the manner I 
 have told of, I made my way by the little ferry-port 
 of Cree, which is a sweet and still little town, to Mary- 
 port, on the other side of the Solway, and thence in 
 another ship for the Low Countries. 
 
 When we came within sight of the land we found 
 that it was dismally grey, wearisome-looking, and flat. 
 The shipmen called it the Hook of Holland. But 
 this was not thought right for the port of our destina- 
 tion, so we put to sea again, where we were too much 
 tossed about for the comfort of my stomach. Indeed, 
 every one on board of the ship felt the inconvenience ; 
 and two exceedingly pious women ij^formed me that 
 it interfered with their religious duties. It was upon 
 a Thursday night, at six o'clock, that we arrived
 
 200 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 at an outlandish place called, as I think, Zurichsee, 
 where we met with much inhumanity and uncourt- 
 eousness. Indeed, unless a Scots merchant, accus- 
 tomed to adventuring to the Low Countries, had been 
 of our company, it might have gone hardly with us, 
 for the barbarous folk had some custom of ill-treating 
 strangers who arrive upon a day of carnival. They 
 entered our bark and began to ill-treat us even with 
 blows and by taking from us what of money we had. 
 But mercifully they were restrained before I had put 
 my sword into them, which, in their own country 
 and engaged in ungodliness, it had been no little folly 
 to do. 
 
 Then also it grieved us very sore that we had five 
 soldiers who had come from Scotland with us — the 
 very scum of the land. They called themselves 
 Captain Somerville's band ; but if, indeed, they were 
 any soldiers of his Majesty's, then God help their 
 captain in his command, for such a pack of unwashed 
 ruffians it never was my hap to sec. 
 
 Specially did these men disquiet us upon the Sabbath- 
 day. So dreadful were their oaths and curses that we 
 feared the boat would sink because of their iniquities. 
 They carried themselves so exceeding wickedly — but 
 more, as I think, that we, who desired not their 
 company, might take note of them. For at least three 
 of them were but sullen, loutish boys, yet the others 
 led them on, and praised them when they imitated 
 their blasphemies and sculduddery. 
 
 At last about eight o'clock in the evening we came 
 to Rotterdam, where we quartered with a good mer- 
 chant, Mr. Donaldson, and in the morning we went 
 to a Mr. Hay's, where from that good man (whom 
 may God preserve) we met with inexpressible kindness.
 
 HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT 201 
 
 Thence we went to Groningen, where many of the 
 Covenant already were. To be brief — that part of my 
 life for the present not coming into the history — I spent 
 four years there, the most of it with a young man 
 named James Renwick, a good student, and one very 
 full of great intents which were to make Scotland strong 
 against the House of Stuart. He came from Minny- 
 hive, a village on the borders of Galloway and Dum- 
 fries, and was a very decent lad — though apt, before he 
 learned modesty on the moors, to take too much upon 
 him. We were finally summoned home by a letter 
 from the United Societies, for they had made me a 
 covenanted member of standing because of Ayrsmoss, 
 and the carrying of the banner at Sanquhar. 
 
 While at Groningen I got a great deal of civility 
 because of Sandy, my brother, whose name took me 
 everywhere. But I think that, in time, I also wan 
 some love and liking on my own account. And while 
 I was away, I got many letters from Maisie Lennox, 
 chiefly in the name of my mother, who was not good 
 at writing ; for her father, though a lord of session, 
 would not have his daughters taught overly much, lest 
 it made them vain and neglectful of those things 
 which are a woman's work, and ought to be her 
 pleasure so long as the world lasts. 
 
 But though I went to the University, I could not 
 bring myself to think that I had any call to the 
 ministry. I went, therefore, for the name of it, to 
 the study of the law, but read instead many and divers 
 books. For the study of the law is in itself so dreary, 
 that all other literature is but entertainment by com- 
 parison. So that, one book being easy to substitute for 
 another, I got through a vast deal of excellent litera- 
 ture while I studied law at the University of Gron-
 
 202' THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 ingen. So did also, even as I, all the students of law 
 whom I knew in Holland and elsewhere, for that is 
 their custom. 
 
 But when at last I was called home, I received a letter 
 from the United Societies, written in their name, from 
 a place called Panbreck, where their meeting was held. 
 First it told me of the sadness that was on Scotland, 
 for the many headings, hangings, hidings, chasings, 
 outcastings, and weary wanderings. Then the letter 
 called me, as the branch of a worthy family, to come 
 over and take my part, which, indeed, I was some- 
 what loath to do. But with the letter there came a 
 line from Maisie Lennox, which said that they were 
 in sore trouble at the Earlstoun, sometimes altogether 
 dispossessed, and again for a time permitted to abide 
 in safety. Yet for my mother's sake she asked me to 
 think of returning, for she thought that for me the 
 shower was surely slacked and the on-ding overpast. 
 So I took my way to shipboard with some desire to 
 set my foot again on the heather, and see the hills of 
 Kells run blue against the lift of heaven, from the 
 links of the Ken to the head-end of Carsphairn. 
 
 It was the high time of the killing when I came 
 again to Scotland, and landed at Newcastle. I made 
 for Galloway on foot by the tops of the Cheviots and 
 the Border hills. Nor did I bide more than a night 
 anywhere, and that only in herds' huts. Till I saw, 
 from the moors above Lochinkit, the round top of 
 the Millyea, which some ill-set people call an ugly 
 mountain, but which is to me the fairest hill that the 
 sun shines on. So at least it appeared, now returning 
 from the Lowlands of Holland, where one can make 
 the highest hill with a spade in an afternoon. Ay, for 
 I knew that it looked on Earlstoun, where my mother
 
 HIDING WITH THE HEATHER-CAT 203 
 
 was — whom I greatly desired to see, as was most 
 natural. 
 
 Yet it was not right that I should recklessly go near 
 Earlstoun to bring trouble on my mother without 
 knowing how the land lay. So I came down the west 
 side of the water of Ken, by the doachs, or roaring 
 linn, where the salmon sulk and leap. And I looked at 
 the house from afar till my heart filled, thinking that 
 I should never more dwell there, nor look any more 
 from my mother's window in the quiet hour of even, 
 when the maids were out milking the kye. 
 
 Even as I looked I could see the glint of scarlet 
 cloth, and the sun sparkling on shining arms, as the 
 sentry paced from the wall-gate to the corner of the 
 wall and back again. Once I saw him go within the 
 well-house for a drink, and a great access of desire 
 took me in my stomach. I remembered the coolness 
 that was there. For the day was exceedingly hot, and 
 I weary and weak with travel.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 THE WATER OF THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM 
 THAT IS BESIDE THE GATE 
 
 With that a kind of madness came over me and took 
 possession of my mind and body. I cannot account 
 for or excuse it, save that the sun had stricken me un- 
 awares and moidered my head. 
 
 I remember saying over and over to myself these 
 words, which I had often heard my father read as he 
 took the Book, " O that one would give me to drink 
 of the water of the Well of Bethlehem that is beside 
 the Gate." So I rose out of the lair where I was, took 
 ofF my shoes and stockings, and went down to the 
 riverside. Ken Water is verv low at that season, and 
 looking over I could sec the fish lying in the black 
 pools with their noses up stream, waiting for a spate to 
 run into the shallows of the burns. I declare that had 
 my mind not been set on the well-house, I should have 
 stripped there and then for a plunge after them. But in 
 a trice I had crossed the river, wading to my middle in 
 the clear warm pool. I think it was surely the only time 
 that man ever waded Ken to get a drink of spring 
 water. 
 
 When I reached the farther side — the nearer to my 
 mother — I lay for a long time on the bank overcome 
 with the water and the sun. Now I was plainly to be 
 seen from the house, and had the sentinel so much as 
 looked my way, I could not have escaped his notice.
 
 THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM 205 
 
 But no one came near me or stirred me in any way. 
 Then at last, after a long time, I roused myself, and 
 betook me through the thick woods which lie on the 
 side towards the Clachan of St. John. The wood here 
 is composed of great oaks — the finest, as all allow, in 
 Galloway — of which that wherein my brother Sandy 
 was afterwards often concealed is but one. Under- 
 neath was a thick growth of hazel and birch. The 
 whole makes cover of the densest, through which no 
 trooper could ride, and no seeing eye pierce. 
 
 So I was here upon well-kenned ground. Every 
 tree-stem I knew by touch of hand, and in my youth 
 I had creeped into every hidie-hole that would hold a 
 squirrel. Times without number had Sandy and I 
 played at hide-and-seek in the woods. And there, at 
 the back of one of the great trees, was where we 
 had fought because he had called me " puny crowl." 
 Whereat I bit him in the thumb till it bled grievously, 
 to teach him not to call names, and also (more gene- 
 rally) for the health of his soul. 
 
 Now, lying here in the Earlstoun wood, all this came 
 back to me, and it seemed that Sandy and I were again 
 playing at hiding. Nearly had I cried out the seeking 
 signal ; aye, and would have done it, too, but for the 
 little rattle of arms when the sentry turned sharp at the 
 corner of the house, with a click of his heels and a 
 jingle of his spurs. The house of Earlstoun stands 
 very near the water edge, with nothing about it save 
 the green hawthorn-studded croft on the one hand, and 
 the thick wood on the other. 
 
 I lay a long while watching the house to see if I 
 could discover any one at the windows. But not even 
 a lounging soldier could I discern anywhere, except 
 the single clinking loon who kept the guard. Once
 
 2o6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Jean Hamilton, Sandy's wife, came to the window ; 
 and once her little daughter, Alison, shook a tablecloth 
 over the sash — a sight which cheered me greatly, for 
 by it I knew that there was still folk who could eat a 
 meal of meat within the towers of Earlstoun. 
 
 But more and more the desire for the sweet well 
 water of the gateway tower came to me as I lay 
 parched with thirst, and more than the former yearning 
 for home things. It seemed that no wine of sunny 
 France, no golden juice of Xeres could ever be one- 
 half so sweet as the water of that Earlstoun well, 
 "that is beside the Gate." 
 
 Ay, and I declare I would have grappled with the 
 sentry for it, save that I had the remnants of some sense 
 left about me, which told me that so I should not only 
 bring destruction upon myself, but on others that were 
 even more dear to me. 
 
 Presently I heard the voice of a serving-lass calling 
 from within the courtyard, and at the sound the sentry 
 listened and waited. He looked furtively this way and 
 that round the corners. He stood a moment in the 
 shade of the archways and wiped his brow. Then he 
 leaned his musket against the wall and went within. I 
 thought to myself: " It is now or never, for he is gone 
 to the kitchen for a bite-and-sup, and will be out again 
 in a moment, lest his captain should return and find 
 him gone from his post." 
 
 So with that I made a rush swiftly round the corner, 
 and entered the well-house. For a moment only, as I 
 ran fleet-foot, was I bathed in the hot sunshine, then 
 drenched again in the damp, cool darkness of the tower. 
 Within there is an iron handle and chain, which are used 
 to wrap up the great dipper over the windlass. There is 
 also a little dipper which one may let down by a rope,
 
 THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM 207 
 
 when only a drink or a little household water is needed, 
 and there is no servitor at hand to turn the crank. 
 This last I let down, and in a moment after I was drain- 
 ing icy nectar from the cup, for which I had risked so 
 much. Yet all I could do when I got it, was only to 
 sip a little, and let the rest run back again into the 
 well. While, like the refrain of a weary song, over 
 and over the words ran in his mind, " O that one 
 would give me — of the water of the Well of Bethlehem 
 — that is beside the Gate." 
 
 Then, like a far-away voice calling one out of a 
 dream, I heard the sound of the sentry returning to his 
 post. Quite clearly I discerned him lifting his musket, 
 shifting it from one side to the other, and so resuming 
 his equal tramp. I heard everything, indeed, with a 
 kind of acuteness beyond the natural. Yet all the while 
 I was strangely without sense of danger. I thought how 
 excellent a jest it would be, to shout out suddenly when 
 the soldier came near, to see him jump ; and but for 
 the remembrance of my mother, I protest I had done it. 
 
 So there I lay on the margin of the well, just as at 
 the first I had flung myself down, without so much as 
 troubling thoroughly to shut the door. I am sure that 
 from the corner where the sentry turned he might 
 have seen my boot-heel every time, had he but troubled 
 to peep round the door. But he had been so often 
 within the well-house during his time on guard, that 
 he never once glanced my way. Also he was evidently 
 elevated by what he had gotten within the house from 
 the serving-maid, whatever that might have been. 
 
 It was strange to hear his step alternately faint and 
 loud as he came and went. He paced from the well- 
 house to the great gate, and from thence to the corner 
 of the tower. Back again he came, to and fro, like the
 
 2o8 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 pendulum of a clock. Once he took the butt of his 
 musket and gave the door, within which I lay, a sharp 
 fling to. Luckily it opened from without, so that the 
 hasp caught as it came and I was shut within. 
 
 So there I lay without power to move all that day, 
 and no one came near me till late in the gloaming. 
 For it was the custom at the Earlstoun to draw the 
 water for the day in the early morning, and that for 
 the night uses when the horses were suppered at bed- 
 time. Sometimes my head seemed to swell to so great 
 a size that it filled the well-house and was pressed against 
 the roof. Anon, to my thinking, it grew wizened 
 and small, waxing and waning as I sickened and the 
 shoots of pain ran round my brows. 
 
 At last I heard feet patter slowly down the turret 
 stair and out at the door. Through the courtyard I 
 heard them come towards me, and of a sudden some- 
 thing sang in my heart, though I could have given no 
 great reason therefor. 
 
 Softly the door of the well-house opened, and one 
 came in, giving a little cry at so nearly stumbling over 
 me. But no power had I to move or speak, even 
 though it had been Clavers himself who entered. My 
 visitor gently and lightly shut to the door, and knelt at 
 my head. 
 
 " William ! " said a voice, and I seemed in my 
 pliantasy to be running about among the flowers as a 
 child again. 
 
 I opened my eyes, and lo ! it was Maisie of the 
 Duchrae — she that had been so kind to me. And the 
 wonder of seeing her in my own house of Earlstoun, 
 where the garrison was abiding, was a better incite- 
 ment to renewed vigour than a double tasse of the 
 brandy'of France.
 
 THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM 209 
 
 But there was no time for speech, so pulling me 
 farther within, she bent and whispered : 
 
 " William, I will go and bring your mother, The 
 soldiers may not be long away ! " 
 
 So she rose to go out with her pail full of the water 
 for which she had come. 
 
 Yet ere she went, she laid her hand upon my brow, 
 and murmured very low, lest the sentry should hear : 
 
 "My poor lad!" 
 
 Only that j but it was a thing which was mightily 
 sweet to me. 
 
 Nor was she long gone before she returned with my 
 mother. They had called the sentry in to his evening 
 meal, and supplied him with something to drink. For 
 they had had the garrison long enough with them to 
 learn that all soldiers are great trenchermen, and can 
 right noblj' 'claw a bicker ' and 'toom a ^toup ' with 
 any man.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE WELL-HOUSE OF EARLSTOUN 
 
 So as soon as the soldier was snugly housed with the 
 servant-lass, the two women came to me, where I sat 
 at the back of the door of the well-house. Chiefly I 
 wanted to hear what had brought Maisie of the 
 Duchrae so far from home as the house of Earlstoun. 
 It seemed to betoken some ill befallen my good friends 
 by the Grenoch waterside. But my mother stooped 
 down and put her arms about me. She declared that 
 she would have me taken up to the west garret under 
 the rigging, where, she said, none of the soldiers had 
 ever been. But there I would in nowise go, for well 
 I knew that so soon as she had me there, and a dozen 
 soldiers between me and a dash for liberty, she would 
 forthwith never rest until she had me out again. 
 
 Then the next idea was that I should go to the 
 wattled platform on the oak, to which Sandy resorted. 
 But I had fallen into a violent horror of shaking and 
 hot flushes alternating with deadly cold, so that to bide 
 night and day in the sole covert of a tree looked like 
 my death. 
 
 At last, Maisie Lennox, who had a fine discernment 
 for places of concealment in the old days when we 
 two used to play at " Boglc-about-the-Stacks " at the 
 Duchrae, cast an eye up at the roof of the well-house. 
 
 " I declare, I think there is a chamber up there," she 
 said, and stood a moment considering.
 
 THE WELL-HOUSE OF EARLSTOUN 211 
 
 " Give me an ease up ! " she said quietly to my 
 mother. She did everything quietly. 
 
 " How can there be such a place and I not know 
 it ? " said my mother. " Have I not been about the 
 tower these thirty years ? " 
 
 But Maisie thought otherwise of the matter, and 
 without more ado she set her little feet in the nicks of 
 the stones, which were rough-set like the inside of a 
 chimney. 
 
 Then putting her palm flat above her, she pushed an 
 iron-ringed trap-door open, lifted herself level with it, 
 and so disappeared from our view. We could hear her 
 groping above us, and sometimes little stones and lime 
 pellets fell tinkling into the well. So we remained 
 beneath waiting for her report, and I hoped that it 
 might not be long, for I felt that soon I must lay 
 me down and die, so terrible was the tightness about 
 my head. 
 
 *' There is a chamber here," she cried at last. " It 
 is low in the rigging and part of the roof is broken 
 towards the trees ; but the ivy hides it, and the hole 
 cannot be seen from the house." 
 
 " The very place ! Well done, young lass ! " said 
 my mother — much pleased, even though she had not 
 found it herself. P'or she was a remarkable woman. 
 
 Maisie looked over the edge. 
 
 " Give me your hand ? " she said. 
 
 Now there is this curious thing about this lass ever 
 since she was in short coats, that she not only knew 
 her own mind in every emergency, but also compelled 
 the minds of every one else. At that moment it 
 seemed as natural that I should obey her, and also for 
 my mother to assist her, as if she had been a queen 
 commanding obedience. Yet she hardly ever spoke
 
 212 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 above her breath, and always rather as though she were 
 venturing a suggestion. This is not what any one 
 can ever learn. It is a natural gift. Now there is 
 my brother Sandy. He has a commanding way with 
 him certainly. He gets himself obeyed. But at what 
 an expenditure of breath. You can hear him at the 
 Mains of Barskeoch telling the lass to put on the por- 
 ridge-pot. And he cannot get his feet wet and be 
 needing a change of stockings, without the Ardoch 
 folk over the hill hearing all about it. 
 
 But I am telling of the well-house. 
 
 *'Give me your hand," said the lass Maisie down 
 from the trap-door. It is a strange thing that I never 
 dreamed of disobeying. So I put out my hand, and 
 in a trice I was up beside her. 
 
 My mother followed us and we looked about. It 
 was a little room, and had long been given over to the 
 birds. I marvelled much that in our adventurous 
 youth Sandy and I had never lighted upon it. But I 
 knew the reason to be that we had a wholesome dread 
 of the well, having been told a story about a little boy 
 who tumbled into it in the act of disobedience, and so 
 was drowned. We heard also what had become of 
 him afterwards, which discouraged us from the for- 
 bidden task of exploration. 
 
 I think no one had been in the place since the 
 joiners left it, for the shavings yet lay in the corner, 
 among all that the birds and the wild bees had brought 
 to it since. 
 
 My mother stayed beside me while Maisie went to 
 bring me a hot drink, for the shuddering grew upon 
 me, and I began to have fierce pains in my back and 
 legs. My mother told me how that the main guard 
 of the soldiers had been a week away over in the
 
 THE WELL-HOUSE OF EARLSTOUN 213 
 
 direction of Minnyhive, all but a sergeant's file that 
 were left to keep the castle. To-day all these men, 
 except the sentry, were down drinking at the change- 
 house in the clachan, and not till about midnight 
 would they come roaring home. 
 
 She also told me (which I muchjyearned 1 to know), 
 that the Duchrae had at last been turned out, and that 
 old Anton had betaken himself to the hills. Maisie, 
 his daughter, had come to the neighbourhood with 
 Margaret Wilson of Glenvernock, the bright little lass 
 from the Shireside whom I had first seen during my 
 sojourn in Balmaghie. Margaret Wilson had friends 
 over at the farm of Bogue, on the Garpelside. Very 
 kind to the hill folk they were, though in good enough 
 repute with the Government up till this present time. 
 From there Maisie Lennox had come up to Earlstoun, 
 to tell my mother all that she knew of myself and my 
 cousin Wat. Then, because the two women loved to 
 talk the one to the other, at Earlstoun she abode ever 
 since, and there I found her. 
 
 So in the well-house I remained day by day in safety 
 all through my sickness. 
 
 The chamber over the well was a fine place f©r 
 prayer and meditation. At first I thought that each 
 turn of the sentry would surely bring him up the trap- 
 door with sword and musket pointed at me, and I had 
 little comfort in my lodging. But gradually, by my 
 falling to the praying and by the action of time and 
 use, I minded the comings and goings of the soldiers 
 no more than those of the doves that came in to see 
 me at the broken part of the roof, and went out again 
 with a wild flutter of their wings, leaving a little 
 woolly feather or two floating behind them. 
 
 And often as I lay I minded me how I had heard
 
 214 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Mr. Peden say at the Conventicle that " the prayers 
 of the saints are Hke to a fire which at first gives ofF 
 only smoke and heat, but or all be done breaketh out 
 into a clear light and comfortable flame." 
 
 These vv^ere times of great peace for us, when the 
 soldiers and the young lairds, that rode with them for 
 the horsemanship part of it, went off on their excur- 
 sions, and came not back till late at eventide, with 
 many of the Glenkens wives' chuckles swinging head 
 down at their saddle-bows.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 CUPBOARD LOVE 
 
 The well-house was indeed a strait place, but my 
 mother had gotten one of our retainers to put therein 
 a little truckle bedstead and bedding, so that I was 
 none so evilly bestowed. This man, whom she had 
 perforce to trust, was not one of our ancients, but 
 only a stranger that had recently come into the country 
 and taken service with us. He had been a soldier and 
 had even served in His Majesty's Guards. But being 
 a Covenanter at heart, he had left the service at the 
 peril of his life and come again to the north. His 
 name was Patrick Laing, and he came of decent folk 
 over about Nithsdale. He was in high favour with the 
 garrison because of his feats of strength ; but he had 
 to keep carefully out of the sight of Tam Dalzyell, Grier 
 of Lag, and the old officers who remembered him in the 
 days when he had been a sergeant with the King's 
 colours. Also he was the only man that could keep 
 steeks with John Scarlet at the sword play, and I 
 longed rarely to see him try a bout with Wat of 
 Lochinvar himself. 
 
 Often at night I had converse v/ith him, when the 
 soldiers were not returned and it was safe for him to 
 come to see me. Here I lay long prostrate with the 
 low fever or ague that had taken me after Ayrsmoss. 
 But because I was in my own country and within cry
 
 2i6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 of my mother and Maisie Lennox, I minded my im- 
 prisonment not so much as one might think. 
 
 My mother came not often, for she was closely 
 watched in her incomings and outgoings. But every 
 eventide Maisie Lennox brought me what she could 
 lay hands upon for my support. 
 
 As I grew whole we had much merriment, when 
 she told me of the straits she was often in to get slip- 
 ping away, without betraying the object of her solici- 
 tude. 
 
 The two eldest of my brother Sandy's bairns were a 
 boy of seven and a girl of eight, and in a house where 
 the soldiers took the most and the best there was 
 sometimes but scant fare for the younger folk. 
 
 Now, none of the serving-folk or even of the family 
 knew that I was in the neighbourhood, saving only 
 my mother, Maisie of the Duchrae, and Patrick Laing. 
 To tell more people was to risk a discovery, which 
 meant not less than a stretched tow-rope for my neck, 
 and that speedily. 
 
 Of all Sandy's bairns little Jock was the merriest 
 and the worst, and of him Maisie had many stories to 
 tell me, making merry when she brought me my piece 
 in the twilight. 
 
 " You are getting me a terrible name for a great 
 eater," she said. " It was but this day at dinner-time 
 that Jock cried out, ' Whatna daft-like chuckie hen ! 
 It's gotten twa wings but only ae leg ! ' For I had 
 hidden the other on my lap for you. That caused 
 much merriment, for we all laughed to think of a 
 chuckie hopping and standing upon but one leg. Yet 
 because Cornet Graham was there we had all to laugh 
 somewhat carefully, and pass the matter off with a 
 jest."
 
 CUPBOARD LOVJS 217 
 
 " On another occasion," said Maisie, " when half-a- 
 dozen eggs could not be found, little Jock cried out, 
 ' The ae-legged chuckie wull be clockin' them ! ' 
 And this caused more merriment." 
 
 Such tales as these Maisie Lennox told me in the 
 quiet of the gloaming, when I abode still in the well- 
 house chamber, and only the drip, drip of the water at 
 the bottom came to us. It was strange and pleasant for 
 me to lie there and hear her kind low voice telling me 
 humoursome tales of what had befallen during the day. 
 
 Jean Hamilton, Sandy's wife, came but once to see 
 me, and gave me much religious advice. She was ever 
 a great woman for experiences, being by nature one of 
 those who insist that all shall be exactly of her pattern, 
 a thing which I saw no hope of — nor yet greatly 
 desired. 
 
 "My Hfe is all sin," she would say, " if it were but 
 to peel the bark off a kail castock and eat, I sin in the 
 doing of it ! " 
 
 " That would show a great want of sense, at any 
 gate, gin ye could get better meat to eat ! " I replied, 
 for the woman's yatter^ yatter easily vexed me, being 
 still weak. Also, I wished greatly for her to be gone, 
 and for Maisie or my mother to come to me. 
 
 And again I remember that she said (for she was a 
 good woman, but of the troublesome kind that oftimes 
 do more ill than good — at least when one is tired and 
 cannot escape them), "William, I fear you never have 
 had the grip o' the fundamentals that Sandy hath. 
 Take care that you suffer not with the saints, and yet 
 come to your end as a man of wrath ! " 
 
 Now this I thought to be an ill-timed saying, con- 
 s dering that I had ridden at Ayrsmoss while Sandy 
 was braw and snug in the Lowlands of Holland, dis-
 
 21 8 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 puting in Master Brackel's chamber at Leeuwarden 
 with Rob Hamilton, her brother, concerning declara- 
 tions and protests. 
 
 "As for me," she went on, liking methinks the 
 sound of her own voice, " that is, for my corps, I care 
 not gin it were cast up to the heaven, and keppit upon 
 iron graips, so that my soul had peace ! " 
 
 " I think that I would even be content to lie at the 
 bottom of this well if I might have peace ! " said I, for 
 the spirit within me was jangled and easily set on edge 
 with her corncrake crying. 
 
 " William, William," she said, " I fear greatly you 
 are yet in the bond of iniquity ! I do but waste my 
 time with you ! " 
 
 Saying which, she let herself down on the well-edge, 
 lifted her pails, and was gone. 
 
 In a little came Maisie Lennox with other two 
 buckets. The sentinel, if he thought at all, must have 
 set us down for wondrous clean folk about Earlstoun 
 during these days ; but all passed off easily and no 
 notice taken. 
 
 Then when Maisie came it was a joy to greet her, 
 for she was as a friend — yes, as David to Jonathan — 
 exceeding pleasant to me. As I have often said, I am 
 not a man to take the eyes of women, and never looked 
 to be loved by woman other than my mother. But 
 for all that, I liked to think about love, and to picture 
 what manner of man he should be to whom Maisie 
 Lennox would let all her heart go out. 
 
 Every night she came in briskly, laughing at having 
 to pull herself up into the well-chamber, and ever with 
 some new story of cheer to tell me. 
 
 " Ken ye what little Jock said this day ? " she asked 
 ere her head was well above the trap-door.
 
 CUPBOARD LOVE 219 
 
 I told her that I knew not, but was eager to hear, 
 for that I ever counted Jock the best bairn in all the 
 coupe. 
 
 "It was at dinner," she said, taking a dish from 
 under her apron, " and I minded that when you were 
 with us at the Duchrae you kept a continual crying 
 for burn-trout. These being served for a first course, 
 I watched for a time when the servants were taken up 
 at the chamber-end with their serving, and when the 
 bairns were busy with their noses at their plates. 
 
 " Then, when none observed, I whipped the most 
 part of the dainty platterful of fish underneath my 
 apron and sat very still and innocent, picking at the 
 bones on my plate. 
 
 " Soon little Jock looked up. * O mither, mither ! ' 
 he cried, 'wull ye please to look at Aunty Maisie, she 
 has eaten the hale kane o' trootses, banes, plate an a', 
 while we were suppin' our broth.' 
 
 " At this there was great wonderment, and all the 
 children came about, expecting to see me come to 
 some hurt by so mighty a meal. 
 
 *"TelI me,' cried Jock, being ever the foremost, 
 *how far doon the platter has gotten. Are ye sure it 
 is not sticking somewhere by the road ? ' 
 
 " All the time I sat with the half score of burn- 
 trout on my lap covered by my apron, and it was only 
 by pretending I had burned myself, that I got them 
 at last safe out of the room." 
 
 With such tales she pleased me, winning my heart 
 all the while, causing me to forget my weakness, and 
 to think the nights not long when I lay awake listen- 
 ing to the piets and hoolets crying about me in the 
 ancient woods of Earlstoun.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE BULL OF EARLSTOUn's HOMECOMING 
 
 It was about this time that Sandy came home. It 
 may seem from some parts of this history that we 
 agreed not over well together. But after all it was 
 as brothers may disagree among themselves ; though 
 they are banded stoutly enough against all the world 
 beside. I think it made us love one another more that 
 recently we had been mostly separate ; and so when 
 Sandy came home this time and took up his old lodging 
 in the tree, it was certainly much heartsomer at the 
 Earlstoun. For among other things our mother mostly 
 went to carry him his meals of meat, taking with her 
 Jean Hamilton, Sandy's wife, thus leaving only Maisie 
 Lennox to bring me my portion to the well-house. 
 
 But often in the gloaming Sandy himself came 
 climbing up by the ivy on the outside of the well- 
 tower, letting his great body down through the narrow 
 broken lattice in the tiles. And in that narrow chamber 
 we cheered one another with talk. This I liked well 
 enough, so long as he spoke of Groningen and the 
 Low Countries. But not so well when he began to 
 deafen me with his bickerings about the United 
 Societies — how there was one, Patrick Laing, a man 
 of fierce and determined nature, that could not com- 
 pany with other than himself j how Mr. Linning 
 wrestled with the other malcontents, and especially how 
 he himself was of so great honour and consideration
 
 THE BULL'S HOMECOMING 221 
 
 among them, that they had put off even so grave a 
 matter as a General Meeting that he might have time 
 to come from Edinburgh to attend it. And in what 
 manner, at the peril of his life, he did it. 
 
 One night, while he was in the midst of his recital, 
 the mighty voice of him sounding out upon the night 
 brought the sentry from his corner — who listened, but 
 could not understand whence came the sounds. Pre- 
 sently the soldier called his comrade, and the pair of 
 them stole to the door of the well-house, where I had lain 
 so long in safety. Sandy was in the heat of his dis- 
 course, and I sitting against the chamber wall in my 
 knee-breeches, and with a plaid about me, listening at 
 my ease. For long immunity had made us both careless. 
 
 " At Darmead, that well-kenned place, we had it," 
 Sandy was saying, his long limbs extended half-way 
 across the floor as he lay on the bare boards, and told 
 his story ; " it was a day of glorious witnessing and 
 contesting. No two of us thought the same thing. 
 Each had his own say-away and his own reasons, and 
 never a minister to override us. Indeed, since Ritchie 
 lay down at length on Ayrsmoss to rest him, there is 
 no minister that could. But I hear of the young man, 
 Renwick, that is now with Mr. Brackel of Leeuwarden, 
 that will scare some of the ill-conditioned when he 
 comes across the water " 
 
 Even as he spoke thus, and blattered with the broad 
 of his hand on his knee, the trap-door in the floor 
 slowly lifted up. And through the aperture came the 
 head of a soldier — even that of the sentry of the night, 
 with whose footfalls I had grown so familiar that I 
 minded them no more than the ticking of the watch 
 in your pocket or the beating of your heart in the 
 daytime.
 
 222 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 The man seemed even more surprised than we, and 
 for a long moment he abode still, looking at Sandy 
 reclining on the floor. And Sandy looked back at 
 him with his jaw dropped and his mouth open. I 
 could have laughed at another time, for they were both 
 great red men with beards of that colour, and their 
 faces were very near one another, like those of the 
 yokels that grin at each other emulously out of the 
 horse collars on the turbulent day of the Clachan Fair 
 — which is on the eve of St. John, in the time of mid- 
 summer. 
 
 Then suddenly Sandy snatched an unlighted lantern, 
 and brought it down on the soldier's head, which went 
 through the trap-door like Jack-out-of-the-box being 
 shut down again. 
 
 *'Tak' the skylight for it, William," Sandy cried. 
 " I'll e'en gang doon an' see what this loon wants ! " 
 
 So snatching a sword that lay upon the boards 
 by his side, Sandy went down the trap after his man. 
 I heard him fall mightily upon the two soldiers to 
 whom had been committed the keeping of the house 
 that night. In that narrow place he gripped them 
 both with the first claucht of his great arms, and 
 dadded their heads together, exhorting them all the 
 time to repent and think on their evil ways. 
 
 "Wad ye, then, vermin," he cried as one and 
 another tried to get at him with their weapons round 
 the narrow edge of the well-curb ; and I heard one 
 after another of their tools clatter down the masonry 
 of the well, and plump into the water at the bottom. 
 The men were in their heavy marching gear, being 
 ready at all times for the coming of Clavcrs, who was 
 a great man for discipline, and very particular that the 
 soldiers should always be properly equipped whenevep-
 
 THE BULL'S HOMECOMING 223 
 
 it might please him to arrive. And because he loved 
 night marches and sudden surprises, the men took 
 great pains u^ith their accoutrement. 
 
 " Can I help ye, Sandy ? " I cried dovv^n through 
 the hole. 
 
 "Bide ye vi^haur ye are, man. I can manage the 
 hullions fine ! Wad ye, then ? Stan' up there back 
 to back, or I'll gie ye anither daud on the kerb that 
 may leave some o' your harns * stickin' to it. Noo, 
 I'll put the rape roon ye, an' ease ye doon to a braw 
 and caller spot ! " 
 
 I looked dovi^n the trap and saw Sandy roving the 
 spare coil of well-rope round and round his two 
 prisoners. He had their hands close to their sides, 
 and whenever one of them opened his mouth, Sandy 
 gave his head a knock with his open hand that drave 
 him silent again, clapping his teeth together like 
 castanets from Spain. 
 
 As soon as he had this completed to his satisfaction, 
 he lifted the bucket from the hook, and began to lower 
 the men down the shaft, slinging them to the rope by 
 the bellybands of His Majesty's regimental breeches. 
 
 The men cried out to ask if he meant to drown 
 them. 
 
 " Na, na, droon nane," said Sandy. " There's but 
 three feet o' water in the well. Ye'll be fine and 
 caller doon there a' nicht, but gin ye as muckle as gie 
 a cry afore the morrow's sunrise — weel, ye hae heard 
 o' Sandy Gordon o' the Earlstoun ! " 
 
 And this, indeed, feared the men greatly, for he was 
 celebrated for his strength and daring all athwart the 
 country ; and especially among soldiers and commo'' 
 
 * Brains,
 
 224 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 people, who, as is well known, are never done talking 
 about feats of strength. 
 
 This being completed, he brought me down from 
 my loft and took me into the house to bid the women 
 folk farewell. They cried out with terror when he 
 told them what he had done as a noble jest, and how 
 he had bound the soldiers and put them in the well- 
 bottom. But my mother said sadly : " It is the begin- 
 ning of the end ! O Sandy, why could you not have 
 been content with scaring them ? " 
 
 " It was our lives or theirs, mither," said Sandy. 
 *' Had they gotten room to put steel into me, your 
 first-born son wad hae been at the well-bottom, wi' his 
 heid doon an' his mooth open, and your second dang- 
 ling in a hempen collar in the Grassmarket. The 
 eggs are all in one basket now, mither ! " 
 
 " Haste ye away I " cried she, " lest the soldiers 
 break lowse and come and find ye here I " 
 
 " They hae somewhat better sense than to break 
 lowse this nicht," said Sandy, grimly smiling. " I'm 
 gaun nane to tak' the heather withoot my supper." 
 
 So he sat him down on the settle like a man at ease 
 and well content. 
 
 "Jean, fetch the plates," he said to his wife ; "it's 
 graun' to be hungry an' ken o' meat ! " 
 
 Maisie Lennox stood quietly by ; but I could see 
 that she liked not the turn of affairs, nor the reckless 
 way that Sandy had of driving all things before him. 
 
 " Haste ye, young lass," he said to her, and at the 
 word she went quietly to help Jean Hamilton. 
 
 " Whither gang ye ? " our mother said to us, as we 
 made us ready to flee. "Mind and be canny wi' that 
 ladJic, Sandv, for he has been ill and needs care and 
 tendance to this day." ,
 
 THE BULL'S HOMECOMING 225 
 
 And it pleased me to see that Maisie Lennox looked 
 pale and anxious when she came near me. But no 
 word spoke she. 
 
 " Na, mither. I'll no tell ye whaur we gang, for 
 ye micht be put to the question, and now ye can say 
 ye dinna ken wi' a guid conscience." 
 
 I got a word with Maisie at the stair-foot as she 
 went up to bring some plaid or kerchief down, which 
 our mother insisted I should take with me. 
 
 " Maisie," I said, " ye'U no forget me, will ye ? " 
 
 But she would give me no great present satisfaction. 
 
 "There are so many gay things in my life to gar 
 me forget a friend ! " was all she said j but she looked 
 down and pulled at her apron. 
 
 " Nay, but tell me, my lassie, will ye think every 
 day o' the lad ye nursed in the well-house chamber ? " 
 
 " Your mother is crying on me," she said ; " let me 
 go, William " (though indeed I was not touching her). 
 
 I was turning away disappointed with no word 
 more, but very suddenly she snatched my hand which 
 had fallen to my side, pressed it a moment to her 
 breast, and then fled upstairs like a young roe. 
 
 So, laden with wrappings, Sandy and I took our wav 
 over the moor, making our path through our own 
 oakwood, which is the largest in Galloway, and out 
 by Blawquhairn and Gordiestoun upon the moor of 
 Bogue — a wet and marshy place, save in the height of" 
 the dry season. Sandy was for going towards a hold 
 that he had ne-ar the lonely, wind-swept loch of Knock- 
 man, which lies near the top of a hill of heather and 
 bent. But as we came to the breast of the Windy 
 Brae, I felt my weakness, and a cold sweat began to 
 drip from me. 
 
 . " Sandy," I said to my brother, taking him by the 
 
 p
 
 226 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 hand lest he should go too fast for me, " I fear I shall 
 be but a trouble to you. Leave me, I pray you, at 
 Gordiestoun to take my chance, and hie you to the 
 heather. It'll maybe no be a hanging matter wi' me 
 at ony gate." 
 
 " Hear till him," said Sandy, " leave him ! I'll leave 
 the laddie nane. The man doesna breathe that San- 
 quhar and Ayrsmoss are no eneuch to draw the thrapple 
 o', were it my Lord Chancellor himsel' ! " 
 
 He bent and took me on his back. " Therena, is 
 that comfortable ? " he said : and awav he strode with 
 me as thous:;h he had been a giant. 
 
 *' Man, ye need mony a bow o' meal to your ribs," 
 he cried, making light of the load. " Ye arc no 
 heavier than a lamb in the poke-neuk o' a plaid." 
 
 I think he was sorry for stirring me from the well- 
 chamber, and the thought of his kindness made me 
 like him better than I had manned to do for some 
 time. 
 
 And indeed my weight seemed no more to him 
 than that of a motherless suckling to a shepherd on the 
 hill, when he steps homeward at the close of the day. 
 It is a great thing to be strong. If only Sandy had 
 possessed the knack of gentleness with it, he would 
 have been a great man. As it was, he was only the 
 Bull of Earlstoun. 
 
 We kept in our flight over the benty fell towards 
 Milnmark, but holding more down to the right to- 
 wards the Garpel burn, where there are many dens and 
 fastnesses, and v/here the Covenant folk had often 
 companicd together. 
 
 I was afraid to think what should come to my sick- 
 ness when the cold shelves of the rock by the Dass of 
 the Holy Linn would be my bed, instead of the com-
 
 THE BULL'S HOMECOMING 227 
 
 fortable blankets of the well-house. And, truth to 
 tell, I was not thanking my brother for his heedlessness 
 in compelling the exchange when I felt him stumble 
 down the steep bank of the Garpel and stride across, 
 the water dashing about his legs as he waded through 
 — taking, as was his wont, no thought of an easy way 
 or of keeping himself dry, but just going on ramstam 
 till he had won clear.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 jean's wa*s 
 
 Then on the other side he brushed through a little 
 wood of oak and hazel. I felt the twigs rough in my 
 face. Climbing a steep brae, Sandy set me down at 
 the end of a house with some bits of offices about 
 it, and a pleasant homely smell of cows and pasturage. 
 Saving these, there were none of the other signs of 
 a farm town, but rather a brisk cleanliness and well- 
 ordered neatness. 
 
 Sandy went to the door and knocked, and in a little 
 while one answered at the southmost of the windows. 
 Then a whispered word was given and taken. The 
 door was opened and we went into the dark house. A 
 sweet-faced old lady who stood in the narrow passage, 
 gowned even at that time of night with some pre- 
 cision, took me by the arm. She held a candle aloft 
 in her hand. 
 
 " Come awa', laddie," she said. " Ye shallna try the 
 unkindly dasses o' the Linn yet awhile, nor yet lie in 
 * Duncan's Pantry,' which has small store of victual in 
 it. But ye shall bide this nicht wi' Jean Gordon o' tlie 
 Shirmers, that has still some spunk in her yet, though 
 folk say that she died o' love thirty years syne. Hoot, 
 silly clavers, Jean Gordon could hae gotten a man ony 
 time, had she been wantin' yin." 
 
 We were indeed at Jean Gordon's famous cot by the 
 side of the bonny Garpel burn. And it was not long
 
 JEAN'S WA'S 229 
 
 till she had me cosy in bed, and Sandy, to whom all 
 weathers and lodgings were alike, away to his hiding 
 in the Cleuch beneath, where some of his society men 
 were that night holding a meeting for prayer. 
 
 The cottage sat bonnily on the brink of a glen, and 
 almost from my very window began the steep and pre- 
 cipitous descent. So that if the alarm were suddenly 
 given, there was at least a chance of flinging myself 
 out of the window and dropping into the tangled sides 
 of the Linn of Garpel. The thought of the comfort 
 in Jean's cot made me the more willing to take the 
 risk. For I knew well that if I had to venture the 
 damps and chills of the glen without any shelter after 
 my illness, it would fare but poorly with me. So all 
 that night I lay and listened to the murmur of the 
 water beneath, dashing about the great upstanding 
 rocks in the channel. 
 
 But other sound there was none, and to this sweet 
 sequestered spot came none to seek us. 
 
 Here in the fastnesses of the Garpel, Sandy and I 
 abode many days. And though the glen was searched, 
 and patrol parties more than once came our way, not one 
 of them approached near the fastness of thickets where 
 in the daytime we were hidden. And each night, in 
 all safety, I betook me to the cottage of Jean Gordon. 
 
 Jean's story had been a sad one, but she made little 
 of it now, though it was well known to all the country 
 side. 
 
 " The Lord has taken away the stang of pain out of 
 my life," she said. " I was but a lass when I came to 
 the Garpel thinking my heart broken. Yince I loved 
 a braw lad, bonny to look upon — and he loved me, 
 or I was the more deceived. Lindsay was his name. 
 Doubtless ye have heard the common tale. He slighted
 
 2 30 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 my love and left me without a word. Waes me, but 
 the very lift turned black when I heard it, and I cried 
 out on the liars that said the like. But belief came 
 slowly to me. The loch is very near to the Shirmers 
 where I dwelt, and the tower window looks down into 
 the black deeps from among the ivy bushes on the 
 wall. My thoughts oftimes turned on the short and 
 easy road to peace. But praise be to His marvellous 
 name, I saw another way. So I biggit me this bit 
 house on the bonny birk-grown sides of the Garpel, 
 and e'en came my ways to bide here. 
 
 " ' Ye'U sune get a man, for ye're bonny ! Never 
 fash your thumb for Lindsay ! ' said my kin. 
 
 " * I'll get nae man,' I threepit to them. ' What 
 one slighted shall never be given to another.' So forty 
 year have I bidden here, and heard little but the mavis 
 sing and the cushie complain. Think weel o' yersel', 
 Willie lad, for ye are the first man body that has ever 
 bidden the nicht within Jean's Wa's. Sandy, great as 
 he thinks himsel', can tak' the Linn side for it. He is 
 weather-seasoned like the red tod o' the hills ; but ye 
 are shilpit and silly, boy William, so ye had best bide 
 wi' auld Jean when ye can. There's few in Gallowa' 
 daur meddle wi' puir Jean, for she is kin to John 
 Graham o' Claverhouse himsel', and even the erne's 
 cousin is no a canny bird to meddle wi'." 
 
 So again I had fallen on my feet, as has mostly been 
 my fortune with women. Though — alas that I should 
 have to confess it ! — chiefly because of my weakness, 
 and with the elder sort of them. 
 
 Here after a day or two, there came to Jean Gordon, 
 my hostess of the night season, a letter from Sandy's 
 wife, Jean Hamilton, with sad news of them at Earls- 
 toun. It was intended for my brother, but, according
 
 JEAN'S WA'S 231 
 
 to the custom or these days, it was not so addressed, 
 for the transmission of such letters was too dangerous 
 at that time. 
 
 " Dear Mistress " (so it ran), " your letter did yield 
 great satisfaction to me, and now I have good words 
 to tell you. The Lord is doing great things for me. 
 Colvin and Clavers (Cornel) have put us out of all 
 that we have, so that we know not where to go. 
 
 " I am for the present in a cot-house. Oh, blessed 
 cottage ! As soon as my enemies began to roar against 
 me, so quickly came my kind Lord to me and did take 
 my part. He made the enemies to favour me, and He 
 gave me kindly welcome to this cottage. 
 
 " Well may I say that His yoke is easy and His bur- 
 den light. 
 
 " Dear Mistress Jean, praise God on my behalf, and 
 cause all that love Him to praise Him on my behalf. 
 I fear that I miscarry under His kind hand. 
 
 " Colvin is reigning here like a prince, getting ' his 
 honour' at every word. But he hath not been rude 
 to me. He gave me leave to take out all that I had. 
 What matters suffering after all ! But, oh ! the sad 
 fallings-away of some ! I cannot give a full account 
 of them. 
 
 " I have nothing to write on but a stone by the 
 waterside, and knov/ not how soon the enemy may 
 be upon me. I entreat you to send me your advice 
 what to do. The enemy said to me that I should not 
 get to stay in Galloway gif I went not to their kirk. 
 
 " They said I should not even stay in Scotland, for 
 they would pursue me to the far end of it, but I should 
 be forced to go to their church. The persecution is 
 great. There are many families that are going to 
 leave their houses and go out of the land. Gif you have
 
 232 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 not sent my former letter, let it not now go, but send 
 this as quickly as you can. I fear our friends will be 
 much concerned. I have written that Alexander may 
 not venture to come home. I entreat that you will 
 write that to him and close mine within yours. I have 
 not backed his. Send me all your news. Remember 
 me to all friends. I desire to be reminded to them. 
 
 " I rest, in haste, your loving friend and servant, 
 
 "Jean Hamilton." 
 
 Now, I declare that this letter made me think better 
 than ever before of Sandy's wife, for I am not gifted 
 with appropriate and religious reflections in the 
 writing of letters myself. But very greatly do I admire 
 the accomplishment. Jean was in time of peace greatly 
 closed up within herself; but in the time of extrusion 
 and suffering her narrow heart expanded. Notwith- 
 standing the strange writing-desk of stone by the 
 waterside, the letter was well written, but the great 
 number of words which had been blurred and corrected 
 as to their spelling, revealed the turmoil and anxiety 
 of the writer. I have kept it before me as I write this 
 history, so that I might give it exactly. 
 
 Thus we learned that Sandy's side of the house was 
 safe ; but what of our mother and Maisie Lennox ? 
 
 "Jean says nothing," said Sandy when I told him. 
 " Good news is no news ! " 
 
 And truly this is an easy thing for him to say who 
 has heard news about his own. Jean Gordon sent over 
 to her sister's son at Barscobe for word, but could hear 
 nothing save that the Earlstoun ladies had been put out 
 of their house without insult or injury, and had gone 
 away no m.an knew whither. So with this in the 
 meantime we were obliged to rest as content as we 
 might.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 PLAIN WORDS UPON MEN. 
 
 " Heighty-teighty," said Jean Gordon of the Shir- 
 mers, coming in to me with a breakfast piece one morn- 
 ing as soon as she heard that I was awake. *' The silly 
 folks keep on bletherin' that I cam' awa' here to dee for 
 love. Weel, I hae leeved forty year in Jean's cot o' the 
 Garpel and I'm no dead yet. I wat no ! I cam' here 
 to be oot o' the men's road. Noo, there's my sister 
 ower-by at Barscobe. She was muckle the better o' a 
 man, was she no ? Never sure whether he wad come 
 hame sober and weel-conditioned frae kirk or market. 
 In the fear o' her life every time that she heard the 
 soond o' his voice roarin' in the yaird, to ken what 
 was crossin' him, and in what fettle the wee barn- 
 door almichty wad be pleased to come ben-the-hoose 
 in ! Wadna the like o' that be a bonny exchange for 
 peace and quaitness o' the Garpel-side ? " 
 
 And the old lady shook the white trimmings of her 
 cap, which was fairly and daintily goffered at the edges. 
 " Na, na," she said, " yince bitten, twice shy. I hae 
 had eneuch o' men — nesty, saucy, ill-favoured charac- 
 ters. Wi' half a nose on ye, ye can tell as easy gin 
 yin o' them be in the hoose, as gin he had been a 
 tod ! " 
 
 " And am I not a man. Aunty Jean ? " I asked, for 
 indeed she had been very kind to me. 
 
 " Hoot, a laddie like you is no a man. Nae beard like
 
 234 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 bristles, nae luntin' stinkin' pipes an' a skin like my 
 lady's — that's no a man. By my silk hose and shoe 
 strings, gin I get as muckle as the wind o'a man body 
 atween me and the Bogue road, I steek baith the 
 inner and the outer doors to keep avva' the wafF o' 
 the brock. Foul fa' them every yin ! " 
 
 This made me laugh, indeed ; but after all it did not 
 please me greatly to hear that I was taken for less than 
 a man. 
 
 " Now, there's Sandy," she went on, for she ever 
 loved to talk, " he's a great senseless sturdy o' a 
 craitur. Yet he could get a' the wives he wants by just 
 coming doon like a tod aff the hill, and takin' yin 
 below his oxter. An' the puir bit bleatin' hizzie 
 wad think she likit it. Lord ! some folk tak' a man 
 as they tak' a farm, by the acre. But no me — no me. 
 Na ? Gin I was thinkin' o' men, the bonny ticht 
 lad is the lad for me ; the lad wi' the cockade set in 
 his bonnet an' a leg weel shapit ; neither bowed out 
 frae the knees like haystack props, nor yet bent in 
 like a cooper ridin' on the riggin' o' a barrel." 
 
 " But v/hat for did ye no tak' yin then ? " I said, 
 speaking through the door of the spence as she moved 
 about the house, ordering the porridge-making and 
 keeping an eye on the hen's meat as well. 
 
 It eased my heavy thoughts to hear the hcartsome 
 clip of her tongue — for all the world like a tailor'f 
 shears, brisker when it comes to the selvage. So 
 when Jean Gordon got in sight of the end of her 
 sentence, she snipped out her words with a glibness 
 beyond any Gordon that ever I heard of For the 
 Gordons are, according to proverb, slow people with 
 their tongues, save as they say, by two and two at the 
 canny hour of e'en.
 
 PLAIN WORDS UPON MEN 235 
 
 But never slow at morn or mirk was our Aunt 
 Jean of Jean's Wa's by the Garpel Burn. 
 
 " It's a strange thing," she said, looking through 
 the hall door at me, " that you an' me can crack like 
 twa wives that hae gotten their men out o' the hearin'. 
 My lad, I fear ye will creep into women's hearts 
 because ye make them vexed for ye. Ye hae sic 
 innocent ways. Oh, I doot na but it's the guile o' ye ; 
 but it was ever sae. 
 
 "Mony a mewlin', psuterin' body has great suc- 
 cess wi' the weemen folk. They think it's a peety 
 that he should be so innocent, an' they tak' baud o' the 
 craitur, juist to keep ofF the ither designin' weemen. 
 Oh, I'm far frae denyin' that we are a pack o' silly 
 craiturs. A' thing that wears v/illy-coats ; no yin 
 muckle to better anither ! " 
 
 "But aboot yoursel', Aunty Jean ? " I ventured, in 
 order to stir her to reckless speech, which was like 
 fox-hunting to me. 
 
 " Wha ? Me ? Certes, no ! I gat the stoor oot 
 o' my e'en braw an' early. I took the cure-all betimes, 
 as the lairds tak' their mornin' o' French brandy. 
 When Tam Lindsay gaed aff wi' his fleein' flagarie o' 
 a muckle-tochered Crawford lass, / vowed that I wad 
 hae dune wi' men. An' so I had ! 
 
 "Whenever a loon cam' here in his best breeks, 
 and a hingin' look in the e'e o' the craitur that meant 
 courtin', faith, I juist set the dowgs on the scullion. 
 I keepit a fearsome tyke on purpose, wi' a jaw ontill 
 him like Jonah's whale. Aye, aye, mony's the braw 
 lad that has ganc doon that brae, wi' Auld Noll 
 ruggin' an' reevin' at the hinderlands o' him — bonny 
 it was to sec ! " 
 
 " Did ye think, as ye watched them gang, that it
 
 236 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 was your Lindsay, Aunty Jean ? " I asked ; for, 
 indeed, her well-going talk eased my heart in the 
 midst of so many troubles. For I declare that during 
 these thirty years in Scotland, and especially in the 
 GlenkenSj folk had almost forgotten the way to 
 laugh. 
 
 " Na, na, callant," so she would say to me in 
 return, " I ne'er blamed him sair ava'. Tarn Lindsay 
 was never sair fashed wi' sense a' the days o' his life — 
 at least no to hurt him, ony mair nor yersel', as yin 
 micht say. It was the Crawford woman and her 
 weel-feathered nest that led him awa', like a big silly 
 cuddie wi' a carrot afore his nose. But I'll never 
 deny the randy that she was clever ; for she took the 
 craitur's size at the first look, as neat as if she had 
 been measurin' him for a suit o' claes. But she did 
 what I never did, or my name had been Jean Lindsay 
 this day. The Lord in His mercy be thankit con- 
 tinually that it is as it is, and that I hae nae auld 
 dotard, grumphin' an' snortin' at the chimley lug. 
 She cuitled Tam Lindsay an' flairdied him an' spak' 
 him fair, till the poor fathom o' pump water thocht 
 himsel' the brawest lad in braid Scotland. Faith, I 
 wadna sae bemean mysel' to get the king oot o' 
 Whitehall — wha they tell me is no that ill to get, gin 
 yin had the chance — and in muckle the same way as 
 Tam Lindsay. Oh, what a set o' blind, brainless, 
 Irandless, guid-for-naethings are men ! " 
 
 " It was with that ye began. Aunty Jean," I said. 
 
 " Aye, an' I shall end wi' it too," she answered. 
 " I'm no theology learned, but it looks terribly like 
 as if the rib story were gye near the truth. For the 
 poorest o' weemen can mak' a great muckle oot o' a 
 very little, an' the best o' men are sadly troubled wi'
 
 PLAIN WORDS UPON MEN 237 
 
 a sair want. I misdoot that Aydam maun hae missed 
 mair nor the rib when he waukened." 
 
 My pleasant time in the cottage by the Garpel 
 came all too soon to an end. It is, indeed, a rare and 
 heartsome place to bide in on a summer's day. There 
 is the sound of the birds singing, the plash of the 
 water into the pool beneath the Holy Linn, where the 
 ministers held the great baptizing of bairns, when the 
 bonny burn water dropped of its own accord on their 
 brows as their fathers held them up. There are the 
 leaves rubbing against one another with a pleasant 
 soughing noise. These kept my heart stirring and 
 content as long as I abode in the Glen of the Garpel. 
 
 There is in particular one little hill with a flat top, 
 from which one may spy both up and down the Glen, 
 yet be hidden under the leaves. Here I often fre- 
 quented to go, though Sandy warned me that this 
 would be my death. Yet I liked it best of all places in 
 the daytime, and lay there prone on my belly for many 
 hours together, very content, chewing sorrel, clacking 
 my heels together, and letting on that I was meditating. 
 But, indeed, I never could look at water slipping away 
 beneath me without letting it bear my thoughts with it 
 and leave me to the dreaming. And the Garpel is an 
 especially pleasant burn to watch thus running from 
 you. I have had the same feelings in church when 
 the sermon ran rippleless and even over my head. 
 
 The only thing that annoyed me was that on the 
 Sabbath days the Garpel became a great place for 
 lovers to convene. And above all, at one angle behind 
 Jean Gordon's cot, there is a bower planted with wild 
 flowers — pleasant and retired doubtless, for them that 
 are equipped with a lass. But as for me, I pleased 
 myself by thinking that one day I should shape to
 
 238 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 bring Maisie Lennox there to see my hiding-place, 
 for, as a httle maid, she ever loved woods that rustle 
 and waters that flow softly. So chiefly on the Sabbath 
 I kept close in my covert with a book ; but whether 
 from motives of safety or envy, it misliketh me to 
 tell.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE GARDENER OF BALMAGHIE" 
 
 I Vv^AS wakened one morning by Jean coming to the 
 side of my bed. She was fully dressed, as if to receive 
 company, and her tall and straight figure looked im- 
 posing enough. 
 
 " Rise ! " she said. '' Rise ! There's a chiel here 
 that wants yc to gang wi' him." 
 
 " A chielj Jean Gordon ? " said I, in a sleepy kind 
 of surprise. " What ken ye aboot him ? " 
 
 *' Oh, I ken he's a honest lad," she said, " an' he 
 brings ye a message frae the gardener o' Balmaghie 
 that ye are to accompany him there for greater safety." 
 
 " A likely story ! " returned I, for I was none too 
 v/ell pleased to be wakened up out of my sleep at that 
 time in the morning to see a regiment of Balmaghie 
 gardeners. " There is great safety in the neighbour- 
 hood of the eagle's nest ! " 
 
 " There is so," said Jean Gordon, dryly — " for 
 sparrows. 'Tis the safest place in the world for the 
 like of them to build, for the eagle will not touch them, 
 an' the lesser gleds dare not come near." 
 
 Nor do I think that this saying pleased me over 
 well, because I thought that a Gordon of Earlstoun, 
 of whatever rank, was a city set on a hill that could 
 not be hid. 
 
 Then Jean Gordon, the hermit of the Garpel 
 glen, bade me an adieu, giving me an old-fashioned
 
 240 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 salutation, which savoured Httle of having forgotten 
 all that she had lightlied to me. 
 
 " Talc' tent to yoursel' " she said. " Ye are a good 
 lad and none so feckless as ye look. There's stuff 
 and fushion in ye, an' ye micht even tak' the e'e o' 
 woman — gin ye wad pad your legs." 
 
 And with this she went in, leaving me in a quan- 
 dary whether to throw a stone at her or run back and 
 take her round the neck. 
 
 I found the gardener of Balmaghie standing with 
 his back towards me. He walked on a little before 
 me without speaking, as though wishing me to follow 
 him. He was, to the back view, dressed but ordi- 
 narily, yet with some of the neatness of a proper 
 gentleman's servant. 
 
 And this v/as a great deal in a country where 
 for common the men wear little that is handsome, save 
 and except the Sabbath cloak — which if it do not, like 
 charity, cover a multitude of sins, of a truth hides a 
 multitude of old duddy clothes. 
 
 At the foot of the burn, where by the bridge it runs 
 over some black and rugged rocks, the gardener stopped 
 and turned round. I declare I never gat a greater or 
 more pleasant surprise in my life, save as it may be, 
 once — of what I have yet to tell. 
 
 " Wat, dear Wat ! " I cried, and ran to him. We 
 clasped one another's hands, and then we stood a little 
 off, gazing each at the other. I had not known that 
 I was so fond of him. But nothing draws the heart like 
 coming through trials together. At least, so it is with 
 men. 'Twixt women and men so many things draw 
 the heart, that it is well-nigh impossible to separate one 
 thing from the other. 
 
 " How came Jean Gordon to say that you were the
 
 THE GARDENER OF BALMAGHIE 241 
 
 gardener at Balmaghie ?" I asked of him, when I was 
 a httle satisfied with looking at him. 
 
 " Why, because I am the gardener at Balmaghie — 
 second gardener ! " answered Wat, smiling in a sly 
 v/ay that he had when he meant to provoke and 
 mystify me. Yet a way that I liked not ill, for he 
 never used it save when he had within him a light and 
 merry heart. 
 
 But I knew by this time how to counter his stroke, 
 which was to hold one's peace, as if one cared nothing 
 about the matter. For in this Wat was just like a 
 woman, or a fencer, whom it provokes more to measure 
 a thrust and avoid, than a hundred times to parry and 
 return. 
 
 But for all I could not keep the anxiety out of my 
 eyes as we walked along. 
 
 " You do not want to hear," said he, provoking me ; 
 for because of Maisie Lennox and my mother, he knew 
 that he had the better of me. 
 
 "But I do, though ! " That was all I could say. 
 
 For indeed the matter was a mystery to me, as well 
 it might be. Wat Gordon of Lochinvar, sometime 
 favourite of her Grace the Duchess of Well wood, 
 now gardener to a latitudinarian and cavalier Galloway 
 laird, that had been a ferlie even on a day of 
 miracles. 
 
 Wat continued to smile and smile. 
 
 " Well, I will tell you," he said. Yet for a while 
 did not, but only walked on smiling. 
 
 At last he pursed his mouth and began to whistle. 
 It was a bar or two of the air " Kate Kennedy is my 
 darling." 
 
 Now at that time I own that I was not bright in 
 the uptake about such things. For I had not till lately
 
 242 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 concerned me much with love and women's favours, 
 but it came across me all in an instant. 
 
 "Oh!" 1 said. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Wat. 
 
 And we looked at one another and nodded — Wat 
 defiantly. 
 
 " Kate of the black eyebrows 1 " I said musingly. 
 *' They are joined over her brow," I went on, " and 
 her ear comes straight down to her neck without any 
 rounded lobe. They are two well-considered signs ! " 
 
 Wat Gordon stopped suddenly, and cried out at me. 
 
 " See here, William Gordon, what mean you by 
 that ? What if her eyebrows meet under her chin 
 and her ears hano- down like band strings ? What is 
 that to you ? " 
 
 cc 
 
 Happily, nothing ! " said I — for I was patiently 
 paying him out, as it is ever easy to do with a spitfire 
 like young Lochinvar. 
 
 " Speak plain, Will," he cried, " or by the Lord I 
 will immediately run you through ! " 
 
 "With a spade," said I, mocking. "Mind, Wat, 
 you are a laird's second gardener now." 
 
 But when I perceived that he was really angry, I 
 hastened to appease him. 
 
 "Joined eyebrows and lobeless ear have been held by 
 learned folk to prefigure some temper, Wat ! " I said. 
 
 His brow cleared on an instant. 
 
 *' Pshaw ! " he exclaimed, " I like a lass with a 
 sparkle. No mim missie for Wat Gordon of Lochinvar, 
 but a lass that keeps you in doubt till the last moment, 
 whether your best wooing will speed you to a kiss or a 
 bodkin-prick — that's the maid for me ! " 
 
 "For me, I would e'en take the kiss," I said — • 
 " take it plain ! "
 
 THE GARDENER OF BALMAGHIE 243 
 
 " Tush, slow-coach ! " he said, " your Earlstoun 
 blood always did run like so much moss water ! " 
 
 Now I had borne the burden of the day on the moss 
 of Ayr, and felt that I need not take his scornful 
 word. 
 
 " I have been where other than women's bodkins 
 flashed — aye, ten against a hundred, and this was the 
 only brand that wan through," I said, putting my 
 hand on my side. "There was small time for kisses 
 then I Ye may kiss your lass gin ye like, about the 
 woods of Balmaghie. As for me, I prefer to ride upon 
 Cameron's flank, on a day when the garments are 
 rolled in blood." 
 
 This I said dourly, for my gall was working hot 
 within me. So far from our first friendship had the 
 clack of fooHsh tongues brought us. 'Deed, we were 
 but silly boys that needed skelping, but I far the worst, 
 for my head was by nature cooler and I knew better 
 all the while. 
 
 " And so perhaps would I have preferred it," an- 
 swered he gently. 
 
 " Ay," said he again, " I think it is somewhat late 
 in the day for Wat Gordon of Lochinvar to have to 
 prove his courage upon his cousin William of Earlstoun. 
 So then, take it from me that, but for my oath sworn 
 to the King, it had been more pleasure to ride with 
 you in the charge at Ayrsmoss, than to be bridegroom 
 to any maid soever in the world ! " 
 
 And at the name of the King, he lifted his worn 
 old countryman's bonnet as nobly and loyally as though 
 is had been the plumed hat, whose feather had been 
 so proudly set that night when he defied heaven and 
 hell to keep him from his tryst beyond the Nether- 
 bow.
 
 244 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 At the word I stretched out my hand to him. 
 
 " Forgive me, Wat," I said, and would have taken 
 his arm, but he moved it a little away for a moment. 
 
 " Pray, remember," he said grandly, " that though I 
 am a jerkined man and handle the mattock in another 
 man's kailyaird — aye, though I be put to the horn 
 and condemned unheard as a traitor, I am true King's 
 man. Vive le Roi ! " 
 
 " Well," replied I, " so be it, and much good may it 
 do you. At any rate, there is no need to make such a 
 work about it. After all, gin ye be at the horn, it's 
 Quid's truth that ye gied Duke Wellwood's lads some 
 most unmerciful jags aneath the ribs ! " 
 
 While thus we snarled and fought between ourselves, 
 the very strife of our tongues made the legs go faster, 
 and we drew southward between the two lochs. Ken 
 and Grenoch, crossing over the Black Water and 
 leaving the Duchrae behind. And this made me very 
 wae, to mind the days that we had there, with that 
 brave company which should meet no more on the 
 earth together.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 THE TESTING OF THE TYKE 
 
 At the head of the high natural wood which fringes 
 about all the mansion-house of Balmaghie we held 
 down to the right through the copses, till we came 
 to the green policies that ring in the great house of 
 MacGhies. As we went linking down this green 
 pleasaunce, there met us one who came towards us with 
 his hands behind his back, stooping a little from the 
 shoulders down. He had on him a rich dress of dark 
 stuff a good deal worn, being that of a fashion one 
 or two removes from the present. But this rather, 
 as it seemed, from habit and preference than from 
 need — like one that deigns not to go too fine. 
 
 " Where away, Heather Jock ? " he cried as we made 
 to go by, and turned towards us. 
 
 " Whom have we here ? " he asked, so soon as he 
 saw me. 
 
 " A cousin o' mine from the hill country, laird," 
 said Wat, with the gruff courtesy of the gardener. 
 
 " Hoot, hoot — another ! This will never do. Has 
 he taken the Test ? " said the laird. 
 
 " I doubt he cannot read it even," said Wat, stand- 
 ing sheepishly before him. 
 
 "That is all the better," said the tall grey man, 
 shaking his head gently and a little reproachfully. " It 
 is easier gotten over that way." 
 
 " Have not you read it, sir ? " asked Wat, glancing
 
 246 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 up at him curiously as he stood and swung his 
 cane. 
 
 " Faith, no," he answered quickly ; " for if I had 
 read it. Heather Jock, I might never have taken it. I 
 could not run the risks." 
 
 " My friend will e'en take the Test the way that 
 the Heriot's Hospital dog took it," said Wat, again 
 smiling, " with a little butter and liberty to spit it out." 
 
 " How now. Heather Jock, thou art a great fellow ! 
 Where didst thou get all the stories of the city ? The 
 whaups do not tell them about the Glenkens." 
 
 "Why, an' it please your honour, I was half a year 
 in the town with the Lady Gordon, and gat the chap- 
 man's fly sheets that were hawked about the cause- 
 ways," answered Wat readily enough, making him an 
 awkward bow. 
 
 " Tell me the story, rascal," said the tall man, whom 
 I now knew for Roger McGhie of Balmaghie. " I 
 love a story, so that it be not too often told." 
 
 Now I wondered to hear Wat Gordon of Lochinvar 
 take the word " rascal " so meekly, standing there on 
 the road. It was, indeed, very far from being his 
 wont. 
 
 However, he began obediently enough to tell the 
 story which Roger McGhie asked of him. 
 
 For a Kate of the Black Eyebrows in the plot 
 makes many a mighty difference to the delicateness of 
 a man's stomach. 
 
 " The story was only a bairn's ploy that I heard 
 tell of when I was in town with my lady," he said ; 
 "nothing worth your honour's attention. Yet will I 
 tell it from the printed sheet which for a bodle I 
 bought." 
 
 " Let me be the judge of that," said the other.
 
 THE TESTING OF THE TYKE 247 
 
 "Well, then, laird, there was in the hospital of 
 George Heriot, late jeweller to the King, a wheen loon 
 scholar lads who had an ill-will at a mastiff tyke, that 
 lived in a barrel in the yard and keeped the outermost 
 gate. They suspected this dog of treason against the 
 person of his Majesty, and especially of treasonable 
 opinions as to the succession of the Duke of York. 
 And, indeed, they had some ground for their suspicion, 
 for the mastiff growled one day at the King's High 
 Commissioner when he passed that way, and even bit 
 a piece out of the calf of one of the Duke of York's 
 servitors that wore his Highness' livery, at the time 
 when his Grace was an indweller in Holyrood House." 
 
 The eye of the tall grave man changed. A look of 
 humorous severity came into it. 
 
 " Be cautious how you speak of dignities ! " he said 
 to Wat. 
 
 " Well," said Wat, " at any rate, this evil-minded 
 tyke held an office of trust, patently within the mean- 
 ing of the act, and these loon lads of Heriot's ordained 
 him duly to take the Test, or be turned out of his 
 place of dignity and profit. 
 
 " So they formed a Summary Court, and the tyke 
 was called and interrogated in due form. The silly 
 cur answered all their questions with silence, which 
 was held as a sign of a guilty conscience. And this 
 would have been registered as a direct refusal, but that 
 one of the loons, taking it upon him to be the tyke's 
 advocate, argued that silence commonly gave consent, 
 and that the Test had not been presented to his client 
 in the form most plausible and agreeable to his tender 
 stomach. 
 
 "The debate lasted long, but at last it was agreed 
 that a printed copy of the Test should be made into
 
 24-3 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 as little bulk as possible, smoothed with butter, tallow, 
 or whatever should be most tempting to his doggish 
 appetite. This being done, Tyke readily took it, and 
 made a shift by rowing it up and down his mouth, to 
 separate what was pleasant to his palate. When all 
 seemed over and the dog appearingly well tested, the 
 loons saw somewhat, as it were one piece after another, 
 drop from the side of his mouth. Whereupon it was 
 argued, as in the case of my Lord Argyle, that this 
 was much worse than a refusal, because it was a 
 separating of that which was pleasant from what was 
 irksome. And that this therefore, rightly interpreted, 
 was no less than high treason. 
 
 "But the tyke's advocate urged that his enemies 
 had had the rowing up of the paper, and very likely 
 they had put some crooked pin or other foreign object, 
 unpleasant to a honest tyke's palate, within. So he 
 asked for a fair trial before his peers for his client. 
 
 "Then the court being constitute and the assize 
 set, there fell out a great debate concerning this tyke 
 dog. Some said that his chaming and chirking of the 
 paper was very ill-done of him, that he was over mala- 
 pert and took too much upon him. For his office 
 being a lowly one, it was no business of his to do 
 other than bolt the Test at once. 
 
 "But his advocate urged that he had done his best, 
 and that if one part of the oath fell to hindering the 
 other and fighting in his hass, it was not his fault, but 
 the fault of them that framed such-like. Also, that 
 if it had not hindered itself in going down, he would 
 have taken it gladly and willingly, as he had taken 
 down many other untoothsome morsels before, to the 
 certain knov/ledge of the court — such as dead cats, 
 old hosen and shoes, and a bit of the leg of one of the 
 
 ^
 
 THE TESTING OF THE TYKE 249 
 
 masters in the hospital, who was known to be exceed- 
 ingly unsavoury in his person. 
 
 "But all this did not save the poor tyke, for his 
 action in mauling and beslavering his Majesty's print- 
 ing and paper was held to be, at least, interpretive 
 treason. And so he was ordered to close prison till 
 such a time as the court should call him forth to be 
 hanged like a dog. Which was pronounced for 
 doom." 
 
 Roger McGhie laughed at the tale's end with a 
 gentle, inward laughter, and tapped Wat with his cane, 
 
 " Thou art indeed a merry wag, and speak over 
 well for a gardener," he said ; "but I know not if 
 John Graham would not put a charge of lead into 
 thee, if he heard thy way of talking. But go thy 
 ways. Tell me quickly what befell the poor tyke." 
 
 " None so evil was his fate," said Wat, " for in the 
 midst of the great debate that the surprising verdict 
 raised, the tyke drew on a fox's skiii, laid hold of the 
 tail of another tyke, and so passed unobserved out of 
 the prison. At which many were glad. For, said they, 
 he was a good tyke that would not sup kail with the 
 Pope nor yet with the deil, and so had no need of his 
 long spoon. And others said that it were a pity to hang 
 so logical a tyke, for that he was surely no Aberdeen 
 man, ever ready to cant and recant again." 
 
 Roger McGhie laughed aloud and knocked his cane 
 on the ground. For right well he understood the 
 meaning of all these things, being versed in parties 
 and politics, which I never was. 
 
 " It is mighty merry wit," he said, " and these 
 colleginers are blithesome blades. I wonder what 
 John Graham will say to this. But go to the bothies 
 of the bachelor foresters, and get that which may
 
 250 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 comfort the inner parts of your cousin from the hills 
 — who, from the hang of his head, seems not so ready 
 of tongue as thou." 
 
 For, indeed, I had been most discreetly silent. 
 
 So the tall grey-headed gentleman went away from 
 us, tapping gently with his fine cane on the ground, 
 and often stopping to look curiously at some knot on 
 a tree or some chance puddock or grasshopper on the 
 roadside. 
 
 Then Wat told me that because of his quaint wit 
 and great loyalty, Roger McGhie of Balmaghie was 
 in high favour with the ruling party, and that none on 
 his estates were ever molested. Also that Claverhouse 
 frequented the house greatly, often riding from Dum- 
 fries for a single night only to have the pleasure of 
 his society. He never quartered his men nearby the 
 house of Balmaghie, but rode over alone or with but 
 one attendant in the forenights — perhaps to get away 
 from roystering Lidderdale of the Isle, red roaring 
 Baldoon, drinking Winram, and the rest of the boon 
 companions. 
 
 " The Laird of Claverhouse will come hither," said 
 "Wat, " with a proud set face, stern and dark as 
 Lucifer's, in the evening. And in the morning ride 
 away with so fresh a countenance and so pleasing an 
 expression that one might think him a spirit unfallen. 
 For, as he says, Roger McGhie does his heart good 
 like medicine."
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 KATE OF THE DARK BROWS 
 
 Betimes we came to a little row of white cottasies 
 deep in the wood, with only a green clearing at the door, 
 and the trees swaying broad branches over the roof. 
 
 Here we washed ourselves, and Wat set to shaving: 
 me and cutting my hair close, in order that if necessary 
 I might wear a wig. Then we went into the gardens, 
 where we found the chief gardener of Balmaghie, 
 whose name was Samuel Irving. 
 
 Samuel was a grave man with a very long upper lip, 
 which gave him a sour and discontented expression, 
 but secretly he was a good man and a great favourer 
 of the hill-folk. Also he was very upright and well- 
 doing in the matters of seeds and fruits and perqui- 
 sites, and greatly in favour with his master, Mr. Roger 
 McGhie. 
 
 So we set out much refreshed, and were going by 
 a path through the woods, when suddenly who should 
 come upon us at a turn but Kate McGhie. Wat ran 
 to her to take her hands, but she gave him the go-by 
 with the single frugal favour of a saucy glance. 
 " Strangers first ! " she said, and so came forward and 
 greeted me. 
 
 " You are welcome to Balmaghie, William Gordon," 
 she said. " I would you came as guest, and not as 
 servitor ; but some day I know you shall enter by the 
 front door."
 
 252 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 She glanced round with a questioning air. Wat 
 was standing half turned away, very haughty in his 
 demeanour. 
 
 Kate McGhie looked towards him. She was in 
 truth a comely maid — for one that is black of favour. 
 
 " Now you may come," she said. 
 
 He seemed as if he would refuse and turn away. 
 But she looked fixedly at him, defying him with her 
 eyes to do it, and after a moment's battle of regards 
 he came slowly towards us. 
 
 " Come nearer ! " she commanded imperiously. 
 
 He came up with his eyes kindling. I think that 
 no less than kissing was in his mind, and that for a 
 moment he thought that she might permit it. 
 
 But suddenly she drew herself proudly away, and 
 her look was disdainful and no doubt hard to be borne. 
 
 " Are these fit manners from a servant ? " she said. 
 " They that eat the meat and sit below the salt, must 
 keep the distance." 
 
 Wat's countenance fell in a moment. I never saw 
 one with so many ups and downs in such short space. 
 The allures and whimsies of this young she-slip made 
 him alternately sulk and brighten like an April day. 
 
 " Kate ! " he began to say, in the uncertain tone of 
 a petitioner. 
 
 " Mistress Katerine McGhie, if you please ! " said 
 she, dropping him a courtly courtesy. 
 
 " Have you forgotten quite ? " Wat said. 
 
 " Ah," she said, " it is you who have forgotten. 
 You were not the gardener then. I do not allow 
 gardeners to kiss me — unless my hand on Sundays 
 when their faces are more than ordinarily clean. 
 Would you like to have that. Heather Jock ? " 
 
 And she held out the back of her hand.
 
 KATE OF THE DARK BROWS 253 
 
 The silly fellow coloured to his brow, and was for 
 turning away with his head very much in the air. 
 
 But she ran after him, and took him by the hand. 
 
 Then he would have caught her about with his 
 arms, but she escaped out of them lightly as a bird. 
 
 " Na, na, Lochinvar," she cried merrily, in the 
 common speech ; " that is as muckle as is good for 
 you" — she looked at him with the light of attraction 
 in her eyes — " afore folk," she added, with a glance at 
 him that I could not fathom. 
 
 Nevertheless, I saw for the first time all that was 
 betv/een them. So with no more said, Kate fled fleet- 
 foot down the path towards the great house, which we 
 could see standing grey and massive at the end of the 
 avenue of beeches. 
 
 " There's a lass by yon burnside that will do as 
 muckle for you ; but dinna bide to speer her leave ! " 
 she cried to me over her shoulder, a word which it was 
 hard to understand. 
 
 I asked Wat, who stood staring after her in a kind 
 of wrapt adoration, what she could mean. 
 
 He gazed at me, as if he did not see what kind of 
 animal was making the noise like talking. I am sure 
 that for the time he knew me not from John Knox. 
 
 " What did she mean ? " I asked him. 
 
 "Mean ! " said he, "mean " speaking vaguely 
 
 as one in a swither. 
 
 " You are heady and moidered v/ith not getting 
 a kiss from a lass," said I, with, I grant, some little 
 spite. 
 
 " Did she ever kiss you ? " cried he, looking 
 truculently at me. 
 
 " Nay 1 " said I bluntly, for indeed the thing was 
 not in my thought.
 
 254 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Then you ken naught about it. You had better 
 hold your wheesht ! " 
 
 He stood so long thinking, sometimes giving his 
 thigh a little slap, like one that has suddenly remem- 
 bered something pleasant which he had forgotten, that 
 I was near coming away in disgust and leaving the fool, 
 when I remembered that I knew not where to go. 
 
 In a while he came to himself somewhat, and I 
 told him what Kate McGhie had said to me over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Did Kate say that ? " he cried. " She could 
 surely not have said all that and I not hear her." 
 
 "Out, you fool," I said, for so of custom I spoke to 
 him, being my cousin and playmate. " You had other 
 matter to think of. Say it she did." 
 
 He repeated the words which I told him, and I 
 declare even the sound of them seemed to be in danger 
 of throwing him into another rhapsody. 
 
 But at last he said, suddenly, " Oh, I ken what she 
 
 means " And he drew a long breath. " I suppose 
 
 we had better go down to the waterside. She will not 
 come out again, if we wait all night." And he went 
 some way along the avenue and looked long and hard 
 at one heavy-browed window of the old house which 
 seemed to be winking at us. 
 
 It is a strange thing how love afFects different people. 
 You never can tell beforehand how it will be. I could 
 not have believed that the presence of a forward lass 
 with black eyebrows could have made a moon-struck 
 fool of Wildcat Wat of LochinvaV. 
 
 He still stood and looked at the window till my 
 patience was ended. 
 
 " Come on, man," I cried. " I declare you are not 
 Heather Jock as she called you, but Heather Jackass ! "
 
 KATE OF THE DARK BROWS 255 
 
 At another time he would have knocked my head 
 off, but now my jesting affected him no more than 
 a sermon. And this I took to be the worse sign 
 of all. 
 
 " Well, come on, then," he said. " You are surely 
 in an accursed sweat of haste to-night ! " 
 
 And we took our way down to the waterside, 
 having wasted more than an hour. We had not 
 advanced far down the pillared avenue of the beech- 
 trees, when suddenly we came in sight of Maisie 
 Lennox. She was coming slowly towards us along 
 one of the forest roads. At the same time I saw my 
 mother walking away from me down a path which led 
 along the side of the Dee water. She had her back 
 to me, and was going slowly with her head down. 
 To my shame I ran to meet Maisie Lennox. But 
 first, ere I reached her, she said quietly to me, " Have 
 you not seen your mother ? " 
 
 "Aye," answered L "She has gone down the 
 road to the waterside." 
 
 " Then let no greeting come before your mother's," 
 she said, looking very ill-pleased at me as I ran 
 forward to take her hand. 
 
 So with a flea in my ear I turned me about and 
 went off, somewhat shamed, as you may believe, to 
 find my mother. When I got back to the path on 
 which I had seen her, I left Wat far behind and ran 
 after my mother, calling loudly to her. 
 
 At the sound of my voice she turned and held up 
 her hands. 
 
 "Willie, boy!" she cried. 
 
 And in a moment she had me in her arms, crooning 
 over me and making much of me. She told me also, 
 when she had time to look well at me, that I was
 
 i^6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 much better in health than when I had lain in the 
 well-house of Earlstoun. 
 
 " And you came first to see your old mother. 
 That was like my ain Willie ! " she said, a word which 
 made me ashamed. So I had no answer to make, 
 though nevertheless I took the credit of the action as 
 much by silence as by speech. 
 
 Then Alaisie Lennox came through the wood, and 
 demeaning herself right soberly, she held out her hand. 
 
 " Did you not see William before ? " asked my 
 mother, looking from one to the other of us. 
 
 " Only at a distance, on his way to you," said Maisie, 
 speaking in her demure way. 
 
 It was in the little holding of Boatcroft, by the side 
 of the Dee, and among the water meadov/s which gird 
 the broad stream, that we found my mother, Maisie 
 Lennox, and little Margaret Wilson snugly settled. 
 Their position here was not one to be despised. 
 They were safe, for the time being at least, upon the 
 property of Roger McGhie. Every day the old man 
 passed their loaning-end. And though he knew that 
 by rights only a herd should live at the Boatcroft, 
 yet he made no complaint nor asked any question 
 for conscience sake, when he saw my mother with 
 Maisie Lennox at her elbow, or little Margaret of 
 Glenvernock moving about the little steading. 
 
 In the evening it fell to me to make my first en- 
 deavours at waiting at table, for though women were 
 safe enough anywhere on the estate, Balmaghie was 
 not judged to be secure for me except within the 
 house itself. 
 
 So my mother gave me a great many cautions about 
 how I should demean myself, and how to be silent and 
 mannerly when I handed the dishes.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE BLACK. HORSE COMES TO BALMAGHIE 
 
 As Wat and I went towards the great house in the 
 early gloaming, we became aware of a single horseman 
 riding towarcTus and gaining on us from behind. At 
 the first sound of the trampling of his horse, Wat 
 dived at once over the turf dyke and vanished. 
 
 « Bide you ! " he said. « He'll no ken you ! " 
 
 A slender-like figure, in a grey cavalry cloak and a 
 plain hat without a feather, came, slowly riding along- 
 side of me in an attitude of the deepest thought. 
 
 I knew at a glance that it was John Graham of 
 Claverhouse, whom all the land of the South knew as 
 "the Persecutor." 
 
 " Are you one of Balmaghie's servants ? " he asked. 
 
 I took off my bonnet, showing as I did so my 
 shaven poll, and answered him that I was. 
 
 No other word he uttered, though he eyed me 
 pretty closely and uncomfortably, as if he had a shrewd 
 thought that he had seen me before elsewhere. But 
 the shaven head and the absence of hair on my face 
 were a complete disguise. For, indeed, though Maisie 
 Lennox made little of it, the fact was that I had at the 
 time quite a strong crop of hair upon both my chin 
 and upper lip. 
 
 Claverhouse waved me behind him with the graceful 
 and haughty gesture which they say he constantly 
 used even to the Secretary in Council, when he was 
 
 R
 
 258 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 hot with h'im in the matter of the house and lands of 
 Dudhope. 
 
 Meekly enough I trudged behind the great com- 
 mander of horse, and looked with much curiosity and 
 some awe both upon him and on his famous steed 
 Boscobel, which was supposed by the more ignorant 
 of the peasantry to be the foul fiend in his proper 
 person. 
 
 So in this manner we came to the house. The lights 
 were just beginning to shine, for Alisoun Begbie, the 
 maid of the table, was just arranging the candles. At 
 the doorway the master of the house met his guest, 
 having been drawn from his library by the feet of the 
 charger clattering upon the pavement of the yard. 
 
 " Ah, John," he said, " this is right gracious of you, 
 in the midst of your fighting and riding, to journey 
 over to cheer an old hulk like me ! " 
 
 And he reached him a hand to the saddle, which 
 Claverhouse took without a word. But I saw a look 
 of liking, which was almost tender, in the war-captain's 
 eyes as I passed round by the further door into the 
 kitchen. 
 
 Here I was roughly handled by the cook — who, of 
 course, had not been informed of my personality, and 
 who exercised upon me both the length of her tongue 
 and the very considerable agility thereof. 
 
 But Alisoun Begbie, who was, as I say, principal 
 waiting-maid, rescued me, and in pity took me under 
 her protection ; though with no suspicion of my 
 quality, but only from a maidish and natural liking for 
 a young and unmarried man. She oflercd very kindly 
 to show me all my duties, and, indeed, I had been in 
 a sorry pass that night without her help. 
 
 So when it came to the hour of supper, it was with
 
 THE BLACK HORSE 259 
 
 some show of grace that I was enabled to wait at 
 table, and take my part in the management of the 
 dishes thereupon. Alisoun kept me mostly in the back 
 of her serving pantry, and gave me only the dishes 
 which were easy to be served, looking kindly on me 
 with her eyes all the while, and shyly touching my hand 
 when occasion served, which I thought it not politic 
 to refuse. For all this I was mightily thankful, 
 because I had very small desire to draw upon me the 
 cold blue eyes of John Graham — to whom, in spite of 
 my crop head and serving-man's attire, there might 
 arrive a memory of the side of green Garryhorn and 
 the interrupted fight which Wat of Lochinvar, my 
 cousin, had fought for my sake v/ith Cornet Peter 
 Inglis. 
 
 The two gentlemen sat and supped their kail, in 
 which a pullet had been boiled, with quite remarkable 
 relish. But it was not till the wine had been uncorked 
 and set at their elbows, that they began to have much 
 converse. 
 
 Then they sat and gossiped together very pleasantly, 
 like men that are easing their hearts and loosening 
 their belts over trencher and stoup, after a hard day's 
 darg. 
 
 It was John Graham who spoke first. 
 
 " Have you heard," he said, " the excellent new jest 
 concerning Anne Keith, what she did with these 
 vaguing blasties up at Alethven, when the laird was 
 absent in London ? " 
 
 " Nay," replied Roger McGhie, " that have I not. 
 I am not in the way at Balmaghie to hear other mis- 
 deeds than those of John Graham and his horse Bos- 
 cobel, that is now filling his kyte in my stable, as his 
 master is eke doing in hall,"
 
 z6o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Well," said Clavcrhouse, " we shall have to give 
 Anne the justiciar power and send her lord to the 
 spence and the store chamber. She should have the 
 jack and the riding breeks, and he the keys of the 
 small ale casks. So it were better for his Majesty's 
 
 service." 
 
 "But I thought him a good loyal man," said Roger 
 McGhie. 
 
 " One that goes as easy as an old shoe — Hke your- 
 self, Roger. Not so my lady. Heard ye what our 
 Anne did ? The conventiclers came to set up a 
 preaching in a tent on the laird's ground, and they told 
 it to Anne. Whereupon she rose, donned her lord's 
 bufF coat and slung his basket hilt at her pretty side. 
 And so to the woodside rode she. There were with 
 her none but Methven's young brother, a lad like a 
 fathom of pump water. Yet with Anne Keith to 
 captain him, he e'en drew sword and bent pistol like a 
 brave one. I had not thought that there was so much 
 good stuff in David." 
 
 Roger McGhie sipped at his wine and nodded, 
 drawing up one eyebrow and down the other, as his 
 habit was when he was amused — which indeed was 
 not seldom, for he was merry within him much more 
 often than he told any. 
 
 "Then who but Anne was the pretty fighter," 
 Clavers went on lightly, " with a horseman's piece on 
 her left arm, and a drawn tuck in her right hand ? 
 Also was she not the fine general ? For she kept the 
 enemy's forces sindry, marching her servants to and 
 fro, all armed to the teeth — to and fro all day between 
 them, and threatening the tent in which was the 
 preacher to the rabble. She cried to them that if they 
 did not leave the parish of Mcthven speedily, it would
 
 THE BLACK HORSE 261 
 
 be a bloody day for them. And that if they did not 
 come to the kirk decently and hear the curate, she 
 would ware her life upon teaching them how to 
 worship God properly, for that they were an ignorant, 
 wicked pack ! A pirlicue* which pleased them but 
 little, so that some rode off that they might not be 
 known, and some dourly remained, but were impotent 
 for evil." 
 
 " I never knew that Anne Keith was such a spirity 
 lass. I would all such lasses were as sound in the 
 faith as she." 
 
 This was the word of Roger McGhie, uttered like 
 a meditation. I felt sure he thought of his daughter 
 Kate. 
 
 "Then," continued John Graham, "after that, 
 Anne took her warHke folk to the kirk. And lo ! the 
 poor curate was so wandered and feared, that he could 
 make no suitable discourse that day, but only stood and 
 bleated like a calf, till the Lady Anne said to him, 'Sir, 
 if you can neither fight nor preach, ye had better go 
 back to the Hielands and herd kye, for, by the Lord, I, 
 Anne Keith, can fight and preach too ! ' " 
 
 " As they do say the Laird of Methven right well 
 knoweth," said Roger McGhie, in the very dry and 
 covert way in which he said many things. 
 
 "Ah ! " said Clavers, and smiled a little as if he also 
 had his own thoughts. But he went on : 
 
 "So on the very next day Anne held a court in the 
 hall, and all the old canting wives of the parish were 
 there. She set the Test to all their throats, and caused 
 them to forswear conventicling at the peril of their 
 lives — all but one old beldame that would in nowise 
 
 * In this case, the application of the discourse.
 
 262 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 give way, or be answerable for her children, who were 
 well kenned and notour rebels. 
 
 " Then Anne took from the hag her apron, that was 
 a fine braw one with pockets, and said to her, ' This I 
 shall retain till you have paid your son's fines. If ye 
 cannot keep your other brats out of the dirt, at least 
 I shall keep this one clean for you ! ' " 
 
 " Ha, very well said, Anne ! " cried Roger McGhie, 
 clapping the table. For " brat " is but the Scots word 
 for apron, and such a brisk conceity saying was like 
 that very spirited lady, Anne Keith. 
 
 " But with yourself, how goes it ? " asked the Laird 
 of Balmaghie. 
 
 Claverhouse turned a silver spoon over and over, and 
 looked at the polish upon it thoughtfully. 
 
 " 111, ill, I fear. I ride night and day through all 
 the country of Galloway, and it is like so much 
 pudding in mud. That which you clear out before 
 you, closes up behind. And at headquarters there is 
 the Duke Hamilton, who desires no better than to 
 load me to the Chancellor. I have many enemies." 
 
 " But surely also many friends," said Balmaghie. 
 
 " Not many so true as thou art, Roger," said 
 Claverhouse, stretching out a white hand across the 
 table, which his friend took for a moment. 
 
 *' And I am plagued on the one side by the Council 
 to make the folk keep to the kirk, and on the other 
 sore vexed with weary-winded preachers like Andrew 
 Symson over on Creeside, who this very day writes 
 me to say that ever since muckle Davie Dunbar of 
 Baldoon hath broken his neck, he gets no congrega- 
 tion at all. And be sure the poor wretch wishes me 
 to gather him one." 
 
 He threw a bit of paper across the table to Balmaghie.
 
 THE BLACK HORSE 263 
 
 "Read ye that," he said. "It is about swearing 
 Baldoon." 
 
 The laird looked at it all over and then began to 
 smile. 
 
 "This is indeed like Andrew Symson, doddering 
 fool body that he is — aye scribing verses, and sic-like 
 verse. Heaven forfend us ! " 
 
 And he began to read : 
 
 Upon Baldoon. 
 
 " He was no schismatick. He ne'er withdrew 
 Himself from the house of God. He with a few, 
 Some two or three, came constantly to pray 
 For such as had withdrawn themselves away. 
 Nor did he come by fits. Foul day or fair, 
 I being in the kirk, was sure to see him there. 
 Had he withdrawn, 'tis like, these two or three, 
 Being thus discouraged, had deserted me : 
 So that my muse 'gainst Priscian avers. 
 He, he alone, was my parishioners ! " 
 
 " Aye," said Balmaghie, " I warrant the puir hill-folk 
 werena muckle the better o' Baldoon's supplications." 
 
 Then Claverhouse, receiving back the paper, looked 
 up with great alertness. 
 
 "But I have chanced in that very country to fall on 
 a nest of the fanatics." 
 
 He looked cautiously about, and I had no more than 
 time to step back into the little pantry where Alisoun 
 Begbie was already washing the dishes. She put her 
 arm about me to keep me within, and before she let 
 me go, she kissed me. Which I suffered without 
 great concern — for, being a lass from Borgue, she was 
 not uncomely, though, like all these shore lassies, a 
 little forritsome.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 A cavalier's wooing 
 
 John Graham assured himself that none of the ser- 
 vants were in the room, and then he said : 
 
 "I have sure informations from one Birsay Smith, a 
 cobbler, by which I have my hand as good as upon 
 the throat of that arch-fanatic, Anthony Lennox of 
 the Duchrae, and also upon Sandy Gordon of Earlstoun, 
 his young brother William, Maclellan of Barscobe, and 
 some others. It will be a great taking, for there is a 
 long price on every head of them." 
 
 "Think you, John," said Balmagnie, shrewdly, 
 " that you will add Earlstoun and Barscobe to your 
 new lands of Freuch ? " 
 
 " Nay," said Clavers, " that is past hoping. They 
 will give them to their English colonels, Oglethorpe 
 and the like — ay, even though, at my own request, 
 I had the promise from the Council of the estates of 
 any that I should find cause of forfeiture against, a 
 thing which is only my due. But as by this time you 
 may know, a plain soldier hath small chance among 
 the wiles of the courtiers." 
 
 " I question, John, if thou hadst all Galloway and 
 Nidsdale to boot, thou wouldst be happy, even with 
 the fairest maid therein, for one short week. Thou 
 wouldst be longing to have Boscobel out, saddled and 
 bridled, and be off to the Whig-hunting with a * Ho ! 
 Tally-ho ! ' For that is thy way, John ! "
 
 A CAVALIER'S WOOING 265 
 
 Claverhouse laughed a little stern laugh like a man 
 that is forced to laugh at himself, yet is somedeal proud 
 of what he hears. 
 
 " It is true," he said. " There is no hunting like 
 this hunting of men, which the King's service sees in 
 these days. It makes it worth living to keep the crown 
 of the moorland with one's company of dragoons, like a 
 man hefting lambs on a sheep farm ; and know that 
 no den, no knowe, no moss, no hill has been left 
 unsearched for the King's rebels." 
 
 " And how speeds the wooing, John ? " I heard 
 Balmaghie say after a little pause, and the opening or 
 another bottle. 
 
 For I thought it no shame to listen, since the lives 
 of all that were dear to me, as well as my own, were 
 '.n this man's power. And, besides, I knew very well 
 that Kate McGhie had put me in this place that I 
 might gain good intelligence of the intentions of the 
 great captain of the man-hunters. 
 
 Clavers sat awhile silent- He looked long and 
 scrupulously at his fine white hand and fingered the 
 lace ruffle upon his sleeve. 
 
 " It was of that mainly that I came to speak to 
 you, Roger. Truth to tell, it does not prosper to my 
 mind." 
 
 " Hath the fair Jean proved unkind ? " said Roger 
 McGhie, looking over at Claverhouse with a quiet 
 smile in his eye. 
 
 John Graham leaned back in his chair with a quick 
 amused look, and threw back his clustering love-locks. 
 
 " No," he said ; " there is, I think, little fear of 
 that." 
 
 " What, then, is the difficulty — her mother ? " 
 
 " Aye," said Claverhouse, " that is more like it.
 
 266 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Yet though the Lady Dundonald drills me and flytes 
 me and preaches at me, I care not so much. For 
 like the hardships of life, that will come to an end. 
 Nevertheless, I own that at times I am tempted to 
 take the lady at my saddle-bow, and ride out from 
 Paisley to return no more." 
 
 " You will not do that, John ! " said Balmaghie 
 quietly, with a certain light of irony in his eye. 
 Claverhouse looked up quickly. 
 " How so, Balmaghie ? " he said, and I saw through 
 my little slant wicket the pride grow in his eye. 
 " The forty thousand marks, John." 
 Claverhouse struck his hand on the table. 
 
 "Thank you "he said coldly, and then for a 
 
 moment was silent. 
 
 " There is no man that dare say that to me but 
 yourself, Roger McGhie," he added. 
 
 " No," said the Laird of Balmaghie, sipping at his 
 canary, "and that is why you rode over to see me 
 to-night, John — a silly old man in a dull house, 
 instead of guzzHng at Kirkcudbright with Winram 
 and the burgesses and bailies thereof. You are a four- 
 square, truth-telling man, and yet hear little of it, save 
 at the house of Balmaghie." 
 
 Claverhouse still said nothing, but stared at the 
 table, from which the cloth had been removed. 
 
 The elder man reached over and put his hand on 
 the sleeve of the younger. 
 
 " Why, John," he said softly, " pluck up heart and 
 do nothing hastily — as I know thou wilt not. Forty 
 thousand marks is not to be despised. It will help 
 thee mightily with Freuch and Dudhope. It is worth 
 having thy ears soundly boxed once or twice for a 
 persecutor, by a covenanting mother-in-law."
 
 A CAVALIER'S WOOING 267 
 
 "But that is not the worst of it, Roger," said 
 Claverhouse, who had gotten over his pique j " my 
 enemies lay it against me to York and the king, that 
 I frequent a suspected and disloyal house. They will 
 put me down as they put down Aberdeen " 
 
 At this moment I felt a hand upon my arm. It 
 was that of Kate McGhie. She drew me out of the 
 closet where Alisoun had bestowed me, intending, as 
 she intimated, to come cosily in beside me when she 
 had washed the dishes. But Kate took me by the 
 hand, and together we passed out into the cool night. 
 Wat met us by the outer gate. He was standing 
 in the shadow. There was then no time for me to 
 tell Kate what I had heard Claverhouse reveal to the 
 Laird of his intentions regarding Anton Lennox and 
 my brother Sandy. To which there was added a 
 further great uncertainty, lest Birsay had been able 
 to add to his other informations an account of my 
 mother's hiding-place and our own disguises. Nay, 
 even though he had not already done so, there was no 
 saying how soon this might come about. 
 
 However, as we stood conferring a moment together, 
 there was one came running hastily from the house 
 to the stables, carrying a lantern. 
 
 Then in a little, out of the stable door came clatter- 
 ing the war-horse of the commander of dragoons. 
 
 William McCutcheon, the serving-man and chief 
 groom of the stables, led Boscobel with a certain awe, 
 as if he might actually be leading the Accuser of the 
 Brethren, haltered and accoutred. 
 
 He had not been at the door a minute when 
 Claverhouse came out and went down the steps, 
 drawing on his riding gauntlets as he came. Roger 
 McGhie walked behind him carrying burning candles
 
 268 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 in a great silver triple candlestick. He held the light 
 aloft in his hand while the cavalier mounted with a 
 free, easy swing into the saddle ; and, gathering the 
 reins in his hand, turned to bid his host adieu. " Be 
 a wee canny with the next Whig ye catch, for the sake 
 of your ain bonny Whiggie, Jean Cochrane ! " cried 
 Roger McGhie of Balmaghie, holding the cresset high 
 above his head. 
 
 " Deil a fear ! " laughed Clavers, gaily waving his 
 hand. " 'Tis not in the power of love or any other 
 folly to alter my loyalty." 
 
 " Pshaw I " said the laird ; " then, John, be assured 
 ye ken nothing about the matter." 
 
 But Claverhouse was already clattering across the 
 cobble stones of the yard. We drew back into the 
 deep shadow of the bushes and he passed us, a noble 
 figure of a man sitting slenderly erect on his black 
 horse Boscobel, and so riding out into the night, like 
 a prince of darkness going forth to war. 
 
 That night, down in the little holding of Waterside, 
 upon the broad meadows of the Dec, we held a council. 
 My mother was for setting out forthwith to look after 
 her son Sandy. 
 
 But I gently dissuaded her, telling her that Sandy 
 was far better left to his own resources, than with her 
 safety also to provide for. 
 
 " I daresay," said she, a little shortly ; " but have 
 you thought how I am like to sleep when you are all 
 away — when in every foot that comes by the door I 
 hear the messenger who comes to tell me of my sons 
 streeked stiff in their winding-sheets ? " 
 
 But, after all, we managed to persuade her to bide 
 on at the Boatcroft, where little Margaret of Glenver-
 
 A CAVALIER'S WOOING • 269 
 
 nock was to stay with her for company. As for the 
 rest of us, we had information, brought us by sure 
 hands, of the hiding-places of Anton Lennox and the 
 rest of the wanderers. 
 
 The maids were set upon accompanying us — Maisie 
 Lennox to see her father, and Kate McGhie because 
 Maisie Lennox was going. But after a long contro- 
 versy we also prevailed on them to abide at home and 
 wait for our return. Yet it came to me afterwards 
 that I saw a look pass between them, such as I had seen 
 before, when it is in the heart of the women-folk to 
 play some trick upon the duller wits of mankind. It is 
 as though they said, "After all, what gulls these men 
 be ! " 
 
 So that night I slept with Wat in the gardener's 
 hut, and early in the morning we went down to the 
 great house to bid the maids good-bye. But there 
 we found only Alisoun Begbie. The nest was empty 
 and the birds flown. Only Roger McGhie was walk- 
 ing up and down the beech avenue of the old house, 
 deep in thought. He had his hands behind his back, 
 and sometimes the corners of his mouth seemed to 
 smile through his gloom with a curious pleasantry. Wat 
 and I kept well out of his sight, and I could not help 
 wondering how much, after all, he understood of our 
 ongoings. More than any of us thought at that time, 
 I warrant, for it was the man's humour to know much 
 and say little. 
 
 Alisoun Begbie, who seemed not unwilling that we 
 should stop and converse with her, told us that after 
 Clavers had departed, Mistress Kate had gone in to her 
 father to tell him that she was going away for a space 
 of days. 
 
 " Mind, ye are not to rise before your ordinary in
 
 270 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 the morning, father," she said j " I shall be gone by the 
 dawn." 
 
 " Very well, Kate," he replied, continuing to draw 
 ofF his coat and prepare for bed ; " I shall sell the 
 Boreland to pay the fine." 
 
 This was all he said ; and having kissed his daughter 
 good-night, calmly and pleasantly as was his wont, he 
 set a silken skull-cap on his crown and fell asleep. 
 
 Truly a remarkable man was Roger McGhie of 
 Balmaghie.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIIl 
 
 IN COVE MACATERICK 
 
 Wat and I took our way immediately towards those 
 wilds where, as we had been advised, auld Anton 
 Lennox was hidden. He was (so we were informed) 
 stricken with great sickness and needed our ministra- 
 tions. But in the wild country into which we were 
 going was no provision for the up-putting of young 
 and delicate maids, specially such as were accustomed 
 to the luxuries of the house of Balmaghie. 
 
 The days, however, were fine and dry, and a fanning 
 wind from the north blew in our faces as we went. It 
 was near to the road-end of the Duchrae, up which I 
 had so often helped the cars (or sledges of wood with 
 birch twigs for wheels) to drag the hay crop, that we 
 met Roderick MacPherson, a Highland man-servant of 
 the Laird of Balmaghie, riding one pony and leading 
 other two. We knew them at once as those which 
 for common were ridden by Kate McGhie and Maisie 
 Lennox. 
 
 " Hey ! where away, Roderick ? " cried Wat as soon 
 as he set eyes on the cavalcade. 
 
 The fellow looked through his lowering thatch of 
 eyebrows and grunted, but whether with stupidity or 
 cunning it had been hard to say. 
 
 " Speak ! " said Wat threateningly j " you can under- 
 stand well enough, when they cry from the kitchen door 
 that it is porridge-time.'*
 
 272 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " The leddics was tak' a ride," MacPherson answered, 
 with a cock in his eye that angered Wat, whose temper, 
 indeed, in these days was not of the most enduring. 
 
 " Where did vou leave them ? " cried he of Lochinvar. 
 
 "It was on a muir, no far frae a burnside ; I was 
 fair forget where ! " said Roderick, with a look of the 
 most dense stupidity. 
 
 Then I saw the fellow had been commanded not to 
 tell, so I said to Wat : 
 
 "Come on, Wat. Kate has ordered him not to 
 
 tell us." 
 
 "This is a bonny like thing," said Wat angrily, 
 " that I canna truss him up and make him tell, only 
 because I am riding with the hill-folk. Oh, that I 
 were a King's man of any sort for half-an-hour." 
 
 For, indeed, it is the glory of the field-folk, who 
 have been blamed for many extremes and wild opinions, 
 that though tortured and tormented themselves by the 
 King's party, they used not torture upon their enemies 
 — as in later times even the Whigs did, when after the 
 Eighty-eight it came to be their time to govern. 
 
 So we permitted the Highland tyke to go on his 
 way. There is no need to go into the place and 
 manner of our journeyings, in such a pleasant and well- 
 kenned country as the strath of the Kells. But, suffice 
 it to say, after a time we betook ourselves to the broad 
 of the moors, and so held directly for the fastnesses 
 of the central hills, where the poor hunted folk kept 
 sanctuary. 
 
 We kept wide of the rough and tumbled country 
 about the lochs of Neldrickcn and Enoch ; because, 
 to our cost and detriment, we knew that place was 
 already much frequented by the ill-contriving gipsy 
 people thereabouts — rascals who thought no more of
 
 IN COVE MACATERICK 273 
 
 taking the life of a godly person than of killing one of 
 the long-woolled mountain sheep which are the staple 
 of these parts. So there was no need to run into more 
 danger. We were in plenty already without that. 
 
 After a long while we found ourselves under the 
 front of the Dungeon Hill, which is the wildest and 
 most precipitous in all that country. They say that 
 when it thunders there, all the lightnings of heaven 
 join together to play upon the rocks of the Dungeon. 
 And, indeed, it looks like it ; for most of the rocks 
 there are rent and shattered, as though a giant had 
 broken them and thrown them about in his play. 
 
 Beneath this wild and rocky place we kept our way, 
 till, across the rounded head of the Hill of the Star, we 
 caught a glimpse of the dim country of hag and heather 
 that lay beyond. 
 
 Then we held up the brae that is called the Gadlach, 
 where is the best road over the burn of Palscaig, and so 
 up into the great wide valley through which runs the 
 Eglin Lane. 
 
 Wat and I had our precise information as to the 
 cave in which lay the Covenanter Anton Lennox. 
 So that, guiding ourselves by our marks, we held a 
 straight course for the corner of the Back Hill of the 
 Star in which the hiding-place was. 
 
 I give no nearer direction to the famous Cove 
 Macaterick for the plainest reasons, though it is there 
 to this day, and the herds ken it well. But who knows 
 how soon the times may grow troublous again, and 
 the Cove reassert its ancient safety. But all that 1 
 will say is, that if you want to find Cove Macaterick, 
 William Howatson, the herd of the Merrick, or douce 
 John Macmillan that dwells at Bongill in the Howe 
 of Trool, can take you there — that is, if your legs be 
 
 s
 
 474 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 able to carry you, and you can prove yourself neither 
 outlaw nor King's soldier. And this word also, I say, 
 that in the process of your long journeying you will 
 find out this, that though any bairn may write a history 
 book, it takes a man to herd the Merrick. 
 
 So in all good time we came to the place. It is 
 half-way up a clint of high rocks overlooking Loch 
 Macaterick, and the hillside is bosky all about with 
 bushes, both birk and self-sown mountain-ash. The 
 mouth of the cavern is quite hidden in the summer by 
 the leaves, and in the winter by the mat of interlacing 
 branches and ferns. Above, there is a diamond-shaped 
 rock, which ever threatens to come down and block 
 the entrance to the cave. Which indeed it is bound 
 to do some day. 
 
 Wat and I put aside the tangle and crawled within 
 the black mouth of the cavern one at a time, till we 
 came to a wider part, for the whole place is narrow 
 and constricted. And there, on a pallet-bed, very pale 
 and far through, we found Auld Anton — who, when he 
 saw us, turned his head and raised his hand by the 
 wrist in greeting. His lips moved, but what he said 
 we could not tell. So I crept back and made shift to 
 get him a draught of water from a well upon the hill- 
 side, v/hich flowed near by the mouth of the cave„ The 
 spring water somewhat revived him, and he sat up, 
 leaning heavily against me as he did so. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was some time before he could 
 speak. Wat and I looked at one another, and as we 
 saw the condition of things in the cavCj it became 
 very evident to us that the lassies Kate and Maisie had 
 either wandered from the roadj or had been detained in 
 some manner that was unknown to us. So Wat, being 
 ever for instant action, proposed that he should go off
 
 tN COVE MACATERICK 2 
 
 / D 
 
 and seek the lassies, and that I should bide and do my 
 best to succour Auld Anton in his extremity. 
 
 To this I consented, and Wat instantly took his way 
 with his sword, his pistols, and his gaily-set bonnet — 
 walking with that carriage which had been little else 
 than a swagger in the old days, but which now was no 
 more than the air of well-set distinction which marks the 
 man of ancient family and life-long training in arms. 
 
 So I was left alone with the father of the lassie I 
 loved. I have said it. There is no use of denying 
 it any longer. Indeed, the times were not such as to 
 encourage much dallying with love's dainty misunder- 
 standings. We wgre among days too dark for that. But 
 I owned as I sat there, with her father's head on my lap, 
 that it was for Maisie Lennox's sake, and not altogether 
 for the sake of human kindness, that I was left here in 
 the wilderness to nurse Anton Lennox of the Duchrae. 
 
 As soon as he could speak, Anton began to tell me 
 of his illness. 
 
 " I fell," he said, " from my pride of strength in one 
 hour. The spirit of the Lord departed from me, and 
 I became even as the mown grass, that to-day is and to- 
 morrow is cast into the oven." 
 
 He lay back and breathed quickly for a moment. I 
 entreated him not to speak, but he put my words aside 
 impatiently v/ith his hand. 
 
 "Thus it was. I was fleeing with a kw of the 
 people from before the persecutors, and as we came 
 over the hip of the Meaull of Garryhorn, the horsemen 
 rode hotly behind us. Then suddenly there came upon 
 me a dwam and a turning in my head, so that I cried 
 to them to run on and leave me to the pursuers. But 
 to this the godly lads would in no wise consent. ' We 
 will carry you,' they said, ' and put you in some hole
 
 2/6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 in the moss and cover you with heather.' So they de- 
 signed, but the enemy being very close upon us, they 
 got me no further than a httle peat brow at the lane- 
 side down there. They laid me on a shelf where the 
 bank came over me. Then I heard our people scatter- 
 ing and running in different directions, in order that 
 they might draw the enemy away from me. So I lay 
 still and waited for them to come and take me, if so it 
 should be the will of the Lord. And over me I heard 
 the horses of the soldiers plunging. One beast, as it 
 gathered way for the spring over the burn, sent its 
 hoof down through the black peat and the stead of its 
 hoof was on my bonnet's brim. Yet, according to the 
 mercies of the Lord, me it harmed not. But the 
 soldier fell off and hurt his head in his steel cap upon 
 the further bank, whereat he swore — which was a 
 manifest judgment upon him, to tangle him yet deeper 
 in the wrath of God." 
 
 So here I abode in the cave with Anton, and we spoke 
 of many things, but specially of the lassie that was near 
 to my heart, and the pearl of his soul. He told me 
 sweet simple things of her childhood that warmed me 
 like well-matured wine. 
 
 As how that there was a day when, her mother 
 being alive, Maisie came in and said, "When I am a 
 great gitl and have bairns of my own, I shall let them 
 stay all day in the gardens where the grosarts are, and 
 never say ' You shall not touch ! ' " 
 
 This Anton thought to be a thing wondrously sound 
 and orthodox, and he saw in the child's word the stum- 
 bling-stone of our mother Eve.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 
 THE BOWER OF THE STAR 
 
 Day by day I tended him as gently as I could, till 
 in the cave our provisions vi^ere well-nigh spent. Then, 
 one grey morning I took my pistol to go out on the 
 hillside to see if I could shoot aught to eat. But 
 because of my nervousness, or other cause, I could at 
 that time do nothing. Indeed, not so much as a whaup 
 came near me on that great, wide, dappled hill. 
 
 I saw a hill fox rise and run. He was a fine beast, 
 and very red, and held his tail nobly behind him like 
 a flag. But, hardly beset as we were, we could with 
 difficulty have eaten fox, even had I been able to shoot 
 him, which I was not. 
 
 The day passed slowly, the night came, and it went 
 sore to my heart that I was able to do so little for the 
 friend of one I loved. I saw that he would have 
 mended readily enough if he had received the riglit 
 nutriment, which, alas ! it seemed far out of my power 
 to obtain. Yet in the morning, when I went to the 
 mouth of the cave, lo ! there, immediately to the right 
 of me, on a bare place, were two great whaup eggs, 
 broad-buttocked and splashed with black. I never was 
 gladder to see food. It was late for the whaups to 
 be breeding ; and, indeed, they had mostly left the 
 moorland by that time. But, nevertheless, it was 
 manifest that Providence had bidden some bird, perhaps
 
 278 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 disappointed of an earlier brood or late mated, to come 
 and lay the eggs before our door. 
 
 I bade Anton take the eggs by the ancient method 
 of sucking — which he made shift to do, and was very 
 greatly strengthened thereby. So every morning as 
 long as we remained there, the wild bird laid an egg in 
 the morning, which made the Covenanter's breakfast. 
 This is but one of the daily marvels from the Lord 
 which attended our progress. For whensoever those 
 that have been through the perilous time come to- 
 gether, they recount these things to one another, and 
 each has his like tale of preservation and protection to 
 tell. 
 
 But that minds me of a strange thing. Once 
 during the little while when I companied with the 
 Compellers, it was my hap to meet v/ith clattering 
 John Crichton, that rank persecutor. And what was 
 my surprise to hear that all his talk ran upon certain 
 providential dreams he had had in the night-time, by 
 v/hich there was revealed to him the hiding-place of 
 many of the " fanatics." Ay, and even the very place 
 pointed out to him in the dream where it would be 
 most convenient to compass their capturing. And 
 this in due time he brought about, or said he did. 
 But, for all that, I do not think that the company he 
 was among, set great store by his truthfulness. For 
 after each wondrous story of adventure and second- 
 sight they would roar v/ith laughter, and say : " Well 
 done, Crichton ! Out with another one ! " 
 
 After a day or two of this lack of food, it came 
 suddenly to me what a dumbhead I was, to bide with 
 an empty belly in a place where at least there must be 
 plenty of fish near at hand. So I rose early from off 
 my bed of heather tops, and betook me down to the
 
 THE BOWER OF THE STAR 279 
 
 river edge. It is nothing but a burn which they 
 call the Eglin Lane, a long, bare water, slow and 
 ^eztjy but with some trout of size in it. Also from 
 the broads of Loch Macaterick there came another 
 burn v/ith clearer sparkling water and much sand in 
 the pools. There were trout in both, as one might 
 see by stealing up to the edge of the brow and looking 
 over quickly. But owing to the drought there was 
 water only in the pools of Eglin, and often but the 
 smallest trickle beneath the stones. 
 
 I had a beauty out in a few moments ; for so eager 
 was I that I leaped into the burn just as I was, 
 without so much as waiting to take off any of my 
 garments. So in the pool there was a rushing and 
 a chasing till I had him out on the grass, his speckled 
 sides glinting bonny on the heather as he tossed him- 
 self briskly from side to side. I followed the burn 
 down to the fork of the water that flows from Loch 
 Macaterick, and lished all the pools in this manner. 
 By that time I had enough for three meals at the 
 least ; or perhaps, considering the poor state of our 
 appetites, for more than that. I put those we should 
 not want that day into a pretty little fish-pond, which 
 makes a kind of backwater on one of the burns 
 sprino-ing down from the side of the Rig of the Star. 
 And this was the beginning of the fish-pond which 
 continued to supply us with food all the time we abode 
 
 there. 
 
 While I was in the river bottom it chanced that I 
 looked up the great smooth slopes of the opposite hill, 
 which is one of the range of Kells. 
 
 There is a little shaggy clump of trees on the bare 
 side of it, and I could have sworn that among the trees 
 I saw people stirring.
 
 28o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 I could only think that the people there were 
 wanderers like ourselves, or else spies sent to keep an 
 eye on this wide, wild valley between the Garryhorn 
 hill and the Spear of the Merrick. 
 
 So I came back to the cave no little dashed in spirit, 
 in spite of my great successes with the trout. I said 
 nothins; about what I had seen to Auld Anton, for he 
 was both weak and feverish. And though certainly 
 mendino", he was not yet able to move out into the 
 sunshine and lie among the bracken, a thing which 
 would have done him much good on these still, warm 
 days. 
 
 But I made a fire with heather and the roots of 
 ancient trees, which in that strange wild desert stick 
 out of the peat at every step. There I roasted the 
 trout, of which Anton Lennox ate heartily. I think 
 they had more relish to a sick man's palate than whaup 
 e^gs, even though these came to him as it were in a 
 miraculous manner ; while I had guddled the trout 
 with my boots and breeks on. 
 
 When the meal was over, I bethought me that I 
 should make an excuse and steal away over to the 
 side of the Meaull, to see what it might be that 
 was stirring on that lonely brae-face. For, save the 
 scraggy scrunts of the rowan-trees and birks that 
 surround the cave, there was not a tree within sight, 
 till the woods at the upper end of Loch Doon began 
 to take the sun. 
 
 I carefully charged my pistols and told Anton how 
 I proposed to go out to shoot mountain hares or other 
 victual that I could see. 
 
 He did not say a word to bid me stay, but only 
 advised me to keep very close to the cave ; because, 
 once off the bosky face of the cliff, there was no
 
 THE BOWER OF THE STAR 281 
 
 saying what hidden eyes might spy me out. For Lag, 
 he said, was certainly lying in Jiold at Garryhorn at 
 that time, and Claverhouse himself was on the borders 
 of the country. Concerning this last I knew better 
 than he, and was much desirous that we could get 
 Anton well enough to move further out of the reach 
 of his formidable foes. 
 
 I started just when the heated haze of the afternoon 
 was clearing with the first early-falling chill of even. 
 The hills were casting shadows upon each other 
 towards the Dungeon and Loch Enoch, where, in the 
 wildest and most rugged country, some of the folic of 
 the wilderness were in hiding. 
 
 As I went I heard the grey crow croak and the 
 muckle corbie cry " Glonk," somewhere over by the 
 Slock of the Hooden. They had got a lamb to them- 
 selves, or a dead sheep, belike. But to me it sounded 
 like the gloating of the dragoons over some captured 
 company of the poor wandering Presbyters. It 
 seemed a strange thing for me, when I came to think 
 of it, that I, the son of the Laird of Earlstoun, my 
 mother, that had long time been the lady thereof, and 
 my brother Sandy, that was now Earlstoun himself, 
 should all be skipping and hiding like thieves, with 
 the drao-oons at our tail. Now this thought came 
 not often to us, who were born during the low estate 
 of the Scottish kirk. But when it did come, the 
 thought was even more bitter to us, because we had 
 no sustaining memories of her former high estate, 
 nor remembered what God's kirk had been in Scotland 
 from the year 1638 down to the weary coming of 
 Charles Stuart and the down-sitting of the Drunken 
 Parliament in the Black Year of Sixty. 
 
 But for all that I thought on th-ese things as I
 
 282 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 went. Right carefully I kept the cover of every 
 heather bush, peat hag, muckle grey granite stone, 
 and w^aving clump of bracken. So that in no long 
 space, by making a vi^ide circuit, I came to look down 
 upon the little clump of trees, where I had seen the 
 fio-ures moving, as I guddled the trout for our dinner 
 in the reaches of the Eglin Lane. 
 
 Now, however, there seemed to be a great quiet- 
 ness all about the place, and the scanty trees did not 
 so much as wave a branch in the still air of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Yet I saw as it had been the waft of a jaypiet's 
 
 wino- among them, when I came over the steep rocks 
 
 of the Hooden's Slock, and went to ford the Gala 
 
 Lane — v/hich like the other water was, by the action 
 
 of the long dry year, sunken to no more than a chain 
 
 of pools. But as I circled about and came behind the 
 
 trees, there was, as I say, a great quiet. My heart went 
 
 up and down like a man's hand at the flail in a barn. 
 
 Yet for my unquiet there was no great apparent 
 
 reason. It might be, indeed, that the enemies had 
 
 laid a snare for me, and that I was already as good as 
 
 settino- out for the Grassmarket, with the ladder and 
 
 the rope before me, and the lad with the piebald coat 
 
 at my tail. And this was a sore thought to me, for 
 
 we Gordons are not of a race that take hanging 
 
 lightly. We never had more religion than we could 
 
 carry with comfort. Yet we always got our paiks 
 
 for what Httle we had, on which side soever we might 
 
 be. It is a strange thing that we should always have 
 
 managed to come out undermost whichever party 
 
 was on top, and of this I cannot tell the reason. On 
 
 the other hand, the Kennedies trimmed their sails to 
 
 the breeze as it blew, and were ever on the wave's
 
 THE BOWER OF THE STAR 283 
 
 crest. But then they were Ayrshiremen. And Ayr, 
 it is well kenned, aye beats Galloway — that is, till it 
 comes to the deadly bellyful of fighting. 
 
 Thus I communed with myself, ever drawing nearer 
 to the clump of trees on the side of the Meaull, and 
 murmuring good Protestant prayers, as if they had 
 been no better than Mary's beads all the time. 
 
 As I came to the little gairy above the trees I 
 looked down, and from the verge of it I saw the 
 strangest contrivance. It v/as a hut beside a tiny 
 runlet of water — a kind of bower with the sides made 
 of bog-oak stobs taken from the edges of the strands. 
 The roof was daintily theeked with green rushes and 
 withes, bound about with heather. Heather also was 
 mingled with the thatching rushes, so that from a 
 little distance the structure seemed to be part of the 
 heath. I lay and watched to see what curious birds 
 had made such a bower on the Star in the dark days. 
 For such dainty carefulness was not the wont of us 
 chiels of the Covenant, and I could not think that any 
 of the rough-riders after us would so have spent 
 their time. An inn-yard, a pint-stoup, and a well- 
 cockered doxie were more to their liking, than plaiting 
 the bonny heather into a puppet's house upon the hill- 
 side.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 MARDROCHAT THE SPY 
 
 Then even as upon the hillside I watched and waited I 
 saw one come out and go round about the bower. It 
 was a figure in woman's garments. I knew the form at 
 the first sight. It was Kate McGhie of the Balmaghie. 
 I had found our lost maids. So I gave a whistle that 
 she knew with my bird call, such as every lad of the 
 heather carried, from old Sandy Peden to young James 
 Renwick. At the first sound of it she started as 
 though she had been stung. At the second peep and 
 whinny she came a little way on tip-toe. So I whistled 
 with a curious turn at the end, as Wat, my cousin, 
 was wont to do. Whereupon she came a little further, 
 and I could see her eyes looking about eagerly. 
 
 Then I stood up and came running down the side 
 of the gairy till slie saw me. She gave a little cry and 
 put her hands to her heart, for I think she had not 
 expected to see me, but some other — Wat of Lochinvar, 
 as I guess. But for all that she held out her hands as 
 if she were mightily glad to see me. 
 
 " Ye canna send us back now ! " she cried out, before 
 even I came near to her. 
 
 " Ye deserve to get soundly payed for this mis- 
 demeanour," I answered. " Did ye ever think of the 
 sore hearts ye left behind ye ? " 
 
 " Oh, my father," said Kate lightly, " he would just 
 read his book, bless King Chairlie, walk the avenue,
 
 MARDROCHAT THE SPY 28; 
 
 and say ' Kate, Kate — deil's in the lassie ! The daft 
 hizzie has tane the hill again ! ' " 
 
 " But will not he be angry ? " 
 
 "Angry, Roger McGhie ? Na, na ; I bade Mally 
 Lintwhitc make him potted-head, and gie him duck aff 
 the pond to his supper, stuffed with mushrooms ; and 
 atween that and his claret wine he will thrive brawly." 
 
 Then Kate McGhie seemed suddenly to remember 
 something, and we went down the hillside among the 
 stones. 
 
 " Bide ye there ! " she commanded, halting me with 
 her hand as John Graham halts a squadron. And I 
 did as I was bidden ; for in those days Kate had most 
 imperious ways with her. 
 
 She stole down quietly, stooped her head to raise the 
 flap which made a curtain door for the bower, and 
 went within. I watched with all my eyes, for I was 
 eager to see once more Maisie Lennox, my dear some- 
 time comrade and gossip. In a little she came forth, 
 but what a leap my heart gave when I saw how pale 
 she looked. Her hand and arm were bandaged, and 
 she leaned hghtly on Kate's shoulder. 
 
 Do you wonder that my desire went out to her 
 greatly, and that all in a moment I sprang down the 
 rickle of stones as if they had been a made road ? 
 
 "Maisie, Maisie, wha has done this to ye, my 
 lassie ? " I cried, or something like that (for I do not 
 mind the words very well). And with that she fell to 
 the greeting — the lass that never grat whatever was 
 wrong, so that I was fair beside myself to see her. And 
 Kate McGhie pushed me forward by the shoulder, and 
 made signs frowningly, which I could not understand. 
 I thought she meant that I was to go away till Maisie 
 had somewhat recovered herself.
 
 286 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Very obediently I made to do so, and was for stealing 
 away up the hill again, when Kste stamped her foot 
 
 and said suddenly, " If ye daur ! " So I abode 
 
 where I was, till it seemed to me that Maisie was about 
 to fall, being yet weak. So I went to hold her up, 
 and as soon as I did so, Kate McGhic slipped out of 
 sight. Now, I think she did this of intention, for 
 when she convoyed me a little down the hill, when I 
 went in the evening, she rallied me very sorely. 
 
 " Man, William Gordon," she said ; " I e'en thocht 
 I wad hae to pit your airms aboot her, and tell ye what 
 to say. Ye maun be a queer make o' men up about 
 the Glenkens. I thank a merciful Providence that we 
 have another kind o' them about the head end o' 
 Balmaghie ! " 
 
 But when she left us I needed no instruction. 
 With the best will in the world I fell to comforting 
 Maisie ; and though I put not down the matter of 
 our discourse (which concerned only ourselves), I can 
 vouch for it that speedily we were at one. And for a 
 long season I sat on the grey bowder stones of the 
 gairy and made much of her in another fashion than 
 that of a comrade. 
 
 Then after this our first pleasuring was bypast, she 
 told me how that Kate and she had come away to 
 seek for her father, because of the report that had 
 come of his danger and illness ; but that an accident 
 had befallen them upon the way, and they had failed 
 of their errand. What the accident was she would 
 not tell me, saying that Kate McGhie would be fond 
 enough to give me the story. Then they had built 
 this bower by the burnside, where ever since they had 
 remained safe and unmolestisd. 
 
 I asked how they got their provender.
 
 MARDROCHAT THE SPY 287 
 
 " O," she said, " Hughie Kerr brings it over the 
 hill from the howe of the Kells. We have had no 
 want of good meal." 
 
 Then when we had talked and I had told her of her 
 father and his welfare, I bethought me to urge her to 
 bide where she was, for that night at all events, saying 
 that perhaps in the morning she might come over to 
 see him. For I desired, seeing that the place was no 
 longer safe (if, indeed, the persecutors did know where 
 Anton was hid, which I believed not), to have him 
 shifted as soon as he could bear the journey. But yet 
 I was loath to do it, for there is no hold in all the 
 high hill-lands so commodious as Cove Macatcrick, 
 above the loch of that name. 
 
 When Kate McGhie came again to us, methought 
 she looked more approvingly upon me than before — 
 but indulgently, as one that passes an indifferent piece 
 of work, which yet she herself could better have per- 
 formed. 
 
 As soon as she came near I began to ask her or 
 Maisie's accident and the cause of it. 
 
 "Has she not told you herself? I am not going to 
 heat cauld porridge for you twa to sup," she said, in 
 the merry way which never deserted her. For she 
 was ever the most spirity wench in the world, and 
 though a laird's daughter, it pleased her often to speak 
 in the country fashion. 
 
 But when I had advertised her that Maisie had not 
 said a word about the matter, but on the contrary had 
 referred me to herself, Kate McGhie made a pretty 
 mouth and gave a little whistle. 
 
 " After all, then," she said, " we are not round the 
 corner yet ! " 
 
 Then she began to tell me of their journeying in
 
 288 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 the night after Pherson, the serving-man, had left 
 them. 
 
 "We cam' over the heather licht foot as hares," 
 said Kate McGhie. " The stars were bonny above. 
 A late moon was rising over the taps by Balmaclellan, 
 and the thocht that I was out on the heather hills set 
 a canty fire in my breast. 
 
 " A' o-aed richt till we cam' to the new brig across 
 the Water o' Dee, that was biggit a year or twa syne 
 wi' the collections in the kirks. When we cam' to it 
 we were liltin' blythe and careless at a sang, when oot 
 o' the dark o' the far side there steps a muckle canker- 
 some-lookin' man in a big cloak, an' Stan's richt in the 
 midst o' the road ! 
 
 " ' Whaur gang ye sae late at nicht by this road 
 withoot the leave o' Mardrochat ? ' says he. 
 
 "'Sang,' says I. ' Wha's midden's this? And 
 v/ha's Mardrochat that his barn-door cock craws sae 
 croose on till't ? ' 
 
 " For," said Kate McGhie, looking at me, " as ye 
 ken, I hadna been learned at the Balmaghie to thole 
 snash frae onybody." 
 
 At which I smiled, for well I knew Kate's repu- 
 tation with her tongue. 
 
 "'This is Mardrochat's road, and by the King's 
 command his business is to question all comers. But 
 it's not ill-gi'en words that he wad use wi' twa sic 
 bonny lassies ! ' says the loon in the cloak. 
 
 "'Dear sirs,' says I, 'fifty puddin's on a plate! 
 Mardrochat maun be a braw lad. Is he the King's 
 hangman? It's an honourable and well-considered 
 office nowadays, they tell me.' 
 
 " ' Satisfy me whar ye are gaun sae late,' says the 
 ill-contriving chiel, 'an' maybes I'll convoy ye a bit o'
 
 MARDROCHAT THE SPY 289 
 
 the road. It shall never be said that Mardrochat left 
 twa weel-faured lassies them-lane in the howe o' the 
 nicht ! ' 
 
 " ' Heighty-teighty,' I telled the man, ' oor coo's 
 come hame, an' her tail's ahint her ! Stand oot o' the 
 road an' let decent folic to their beds !' 
 
 " ' There's nae beds bena the heather that gate ! ' 
 said the man. And faith, there he was in the right of 
 it. There were no beds except the wanderers' beds in 
 the moss-hags that road for twenty lang Scots miles. 
 
 " And all this time we were standing on the brig 
 close to one another. 
 
 "'Let us gang by,' said I again. 
 
 "'Na,'said the long loon that had called himself 
 Mardrochat, and wha I kenned for an ill-set informer 
 that made his siller by carrying tales to Clavers and 
 Lag, 'ye pass na this road. Ye maun e'en turn and 
 come wi' me ! ' 
 
 " And I think he would have come forward to put 
 his hand upon us. But I made to get past him at one 
 side, crying to Maisie to try the other. For I thought 
 that the two of us were surely a match for any black 
 thief of the kind to be found in the Glenkens. 
 
 " But as I was running by, he grippit me with one 
 hand and drew his windlestrae of a sword wi' the other 
 — drew it on a pair o' lassies, mind ye. Then v/hat 
 think ye ? Your bit lassie there, Missie Mim, she flew 
 ■on him like a wullcat, and gripped the blade atween 
 her fingers till she drew it oot o' his hand. Then she 
 took it across her knee and garred it play snap Hke a 
 rotten branch. Syne ower it ga'ed intil the water. 
 And that was the way she got the cut on her hand, 
 poor thing." 
 Then I gave a great shout and clasped Maisie in my 
 
 T
 
 290 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 arms, yet not harshly, lest she should be weak. I was 
 glad to hear this testimony to her bravery. 
 
 " That is of a better fashion," said Kate, like one who 
 has store of experience. Then she went on with her 
 story, for she had yet more to tell. " But the loon was 
 dour for a' the want o' his sword, and we micht no' hae 
 mastered him, but that he tried to trip us and so got 
 tripped himself. He fell so that the head o' him took 
 the wa' and fair dang him stupid. So we e'en gied 
 him a bit hoise an' ower he gaed intil the water " 
 
 " Mercy on us ! " I cried ; "ye didna droon the man ? " 
 
 " Droon him," said Kate, "deil a fear ! Yon chiel 
 is made for the tow. He'll droon nane. The last we 
 saw o' him he was sitting on his hurdies in the shallows, 
 up to his neck in the water, trying what banes war 
 hale after his stramash. 
 
 "So," continued Kate, "we gaed our roads in peace, 
 and the chiel sat still in the water, thrawin' his held aboot 
 and aboot like a turnspit, as lang as we could see him." 
 
 Even thus Kate McGhie told her tale, making my 
 lass dearer to me v/ith every v/ord. Of Mardrochat 
 the informer, who had made bold to meddle with them, 
 I had heard many times. He had been a Covenanter of 
 zeal and forwardness, till, at a meeting of the Societies, 
 his double-faced guile had been laid bare. Ever since 
 which day, in the wilds of Friarminion, he had been 
 a cunning, spying fox, upon the track of the hill- 
 folk. But I knew how dangerous the man could be, and 
 liked it ill enough that the maids should have crossed 
 him so early on their pilgrimage. I doubted not that 
 it was from him that the original information had 
 come, which, being carried to the enemy by Birsay 
 and overheard by me in the house of Balmaghie, had 
 sent us all hiving to the mountains.
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE BLACK CATS 
 
 Having bidden such good-e'en to the maids as was 
 severally due to them, I crossed the Nick of the 
 Gadlach and vi^ent whistling over the moor. I took a 
 new road over the heather, and was just at the turning 
 of the Eglin Lane, when, deep in the howe of the 
 glen, I came on the strangest kind of cot-house. It 
 was piled together of the rough bowder stones of the 
 country, their edges undressed and gaping, the spaces 
 between them filled in with faggots of heather and 
 plastered with stiiF bluish clay from the burnsides. 
 The roof was of branches of the fir trees lonp; 
 buried in the moss, and was thatched with heather. 
 There was an opening in the middle, from which a 
 smoke arose. And I heard a sound like singing from 
 within — a sound that made my flesh creep. 
 
 I went to the door and with my knuckle knocked 
 gently, as is our fashion in that part of the country, 
 crying, " Are ye within, goodwife ? " 
 
 Whereat the strangest unearthly voice answered back 
 to me, as it had been some one reading in the Bible 
 and laughing at the same time — a horrid thing to hear 
 in that still place and so near the defenceless young 
 lassies in the Bower of the Star. 
 
 " The waters of Meribah — the waters of Meribah — 
 for they were bitter ! " it cried in a kind of wail.
 
 292 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Come ben and hae some brose ! " And then the 
 thing laughed again. 
 
 I took courage to looic within, but because it was 
 dark I saw nothing. The whole interior was full of 
 the smoor of reek, and strange things sped round and 
 round, crossing each other and passing the door con- 
 tinually, like the staves and buckets of a water-mill 
 running round. 
 
 " Come awa' ben '' a2;ain commanded the voice- 
 "Doon, Badrona ! Peace, Grimalkin!" The com- 
 mand was addressed to a number of monstrous black 
 cats, which had been speeding round the walls of the 
 cot like mad things, to the music of the unearthly 
 crooning song which I had heard from within. 
 
 I stepped across the threshold and found a red peat 
 fire upon the hearth and a black pot hanging over it. 
 I looked about for the person who had addressed me. 
 At first I could see him nowhere. But as my eyes 
 grew accustomed to the light 1 saw the queerest being 
 — the sight of whom made my heart grow cold and 
 my hand steal to the little pocket Bible, bound in two 
 halves, that was in my inner pocket. 
 
 A small square object sat huddled up by the far side 
 of the fire. Upon its head there was a turban, like 
 those the travellers into the lands of the False Prophet 
 tell us of. But this turban was of black bull hide, and 
 the beast's dull eyes looked out underneath with a 
 hellish suggestion. The figure was squat like a toad, 
 and sitting thus sunk down upon itself, it seemed to be 
 wholly destitute of feet and legs. But a great pair of 
 hairy arms lay out upon the hearth and sometimes 
 clawed together the fiery red peats, as though they 
 had just been casten and were being fitted for dryjrig 
 upon the moss.
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE BLACK CATS 293 
 
 "Come awa' ben. Ye are welcome, honest stranger," 
 again said the thing of the uncanny look ; " I am nana 
 bonny, truth to tell, but I'm nocht to my mither. It's 
 a braw thing that ye are no' to meet wi' her the nicht. 
 She has gane ower by to gather the Black Herb by the 
 licht o' the aval moon. When the moon fa's ower on 
 her back like a sheep that canna rise, then is the time 
 to gather the bonny Wolf's Bane, the Deil's Bit, wi' 
 the berries by the waterside that nane kens whaur to 
 seek, an' the Mandrake that cries like a murdered 
 bairn when ye pu' it frae the moss. See ye here, 
 there's three dead bairns aneath that hearthstane. Gin 
 ye like I will let ye see the banes. She didna pit me 
 there, for the deil's wife has aye a warm side to the 
 deil's bairn. Sit ye doon and bide a wee. It's braw 
 an' heartsome to see a face at Willie's Shiel in the howe 
 o' the EgHn." 
 
 After the first horrid surprise of coming in upon such 
 a place, I saw that the thing after all was human — an 
 idiot or natural as I judged, with a monstrous twisted 
 body and strange elricht voice like the crying of the 
 night-wind in a keyhole. But I thought it best to sit 
 down on a seat, even as he bade me, and so I drew a 
 creepie stool carelessly nearer to me with one hand. 
 
 " Na, dinna sit on that — that's a stool that naebody 
 can sit on but my mither." 
 
 And when I looked at the creepie in the red firelight, 
 for it felt strange to my hand, lo ! it was formed of 
 three skulls set close together, and the legs of it were 
 of men's leg-bones. 
 
 7"hen it flashed to my mind that I had chanced on 
 the house of Corp-licht Kate, the witch wife of the 
 Star, who for many years dwelt alone on the flowe of the 
 Eglin, with only her idiot son with her for company.
 
 294 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Na," said the object, " nanc can sit on that creepie 
 but the minnie o' me — Corp-licht Kate o' the Star. 
 It's weel for me, an' its weel for you, that my minnie's 
 no' here the nicht. But sit ye down and tak' your 
 rest." 
 
 I rose to flee, but the monstrous figure by the red 
 fire waved mc down. And I declare that as I looked 
 at him he seemed to swell and glow with a kind of 
 brightness like the moon through mist. He waved 
 his arms abroad, and immediately about me there 
 began the most affrighting turmoil. Black forms that 
 had been crouching in the corners came out and began 
 to circle round us, as it appeared by some devilish 
 cantrip, skimming round the house breast-high, without 
 ever touching the floor or the walls. They seemed 
 like an army of cats, black and unearthly, all flying in 
 mid-air, screeching and caterwauling as at a witch's 
 festival. I began to wonder if the foul, human-headed, 
 toad-like thing that squatted by the fire were indeed 
 the black master of witches himself, to whom, for my 
 sins, I had been delivered in the flesh before my time. 
 
 But with a wave of his hand the idiot stilled the 
 turmoil, and the flitting demons came to the ground 
 in the shape of a dozen or so of cats, black and horrid, 
 with arched tails and fiery eyes — as wild to look at as 
 though they had wandered in from the moor. These 
 retreated into the dark corners of the room, whence 
 we could hear them purring and spitting, and see their 
 fiery eyes set on us in a circle out of the gloom, which 
 was dense as night everywhere, save only immediately 
 about the fire. 
 
 "I am nae deil, though ye think it, and maist folk 
 says it," said the idiot, fixing his eyes on me. " Some 
 says the daddic o' me was the dcil, and some says
 
 1:'HE HOUSE OF THE BLACK CATS 295 
 
 Mardrochat. I kenna. There's no' muclcle to choose 
 between them. Ye can ask my mither gin ye like. 
 I never speered her mysel'. Ye'll hae a sup o' my 
 parritch. They are guid parritch — no' like my mither's 
 parritch. I wad advise ye to hae nocht to do wi' my 
 mither's parritch. Heard ye ever o' the Hefter o' the 
 Star ? " 
 
 I told him no, and sat down to see what might 
 happen in this strange abode so near to the two places 
 where dwelled those whom I loved best — the Bower 
 of the Star and the Cave of Macaterick. But I 
 loosened my sword and felt that the grip of my pistols 
 came easy to my hand. 
 
 " Be na feared o' puir Gash Gibbic o' the Star 
 SheiHng," cried the object, noticing the action ; " he's 
 as honest as he is ugly. But keep wide o' the mither 
 o' him, gin ye wad 'scape the chiding of the channering 
 
 worm." 
 
 The natural seemed to read the fears of my heart 
 before I knew them myself. 
 
 " Na, ye'll no' dee like the Hefter o' the Star. He 
 was an ill loon, him ; he wadna let my mither be, 
 when he cam to heft hoggs in the mid o' the year. 
 He spied on us as he sat on a hill-tap to watch that 
 his sheep didna break dykes. But ken ye what my 
 mither did ? She gaed oot to him wi' a wee drap 
 kail broth. Tak' ye nane o' my mither's kail broth. 
 They are no' canny. But the hefter, silly body, took 
 mair o' them than he was the better o'. He took 
 them doon in a bit hollow to be oot o' the wind, and 
 when they fand him he had manned it to crawl back 
 to his watcher's hill-tap. But there the silly, feckless 
 loon died like a troot on the bank. He didna lik my 
 mither's broth. Na, they didna gree weel wi' him !"
 
 296 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 And Gash Gibbie went on yammering and 
 grumbling, wiiile I sat and gazed dumbfounded at 
 him, and at the ugly grimalkins in the dark corners, 
 which stared at me with shining eyes, till I wished 
 myself well out of it all. 
 
 " An' ken ye what my mither said when the next 
 hefter cam' to see after his sheep on the hill ? " 
 
 I shook my head. 
 
 "She said, 'Watna grand ploy it wad be gin this 
 yin were to die as weel ! ' That was what my mither 
 said." 
 
 "And did he die?" I asked. 
 
 Gash Gibbie moved his shoulders, and made a kind 
 of nichering laugh to himself, like a young horse 
 whinnying for its corn. 
 
 " Na, he was ower cunning for my minnie, him. 
 He wadna bide here, and when my minnie gaed to 
 him with the guid kail broo and the braxy sooming 
 amang it, says the second hefter, ' I'm no' that hungry 
 the day, mistress ; I'll gie the hoodie craws a drap 
 drink o't ! ' 
 
 " And so he did, and as fast as the craws got twa 
 fills o' their nebs, they keeled ower on their backs, 
 drew in their taes three times, cried kraigh^ and 
 tumbled heels up, as stiff as Methusala ! Richt curious, 
 was it na ? She is a wonnerfu' woman, my mither ! " 
 
 The thunder-clouds which had been forming all 
 through the heat of the afternoon, began to roar far 
 away by Loch Doon, and as the place and the talk 
 did not conduce to pleasant thoughts, I rose to go. 
 
 "What's your hurry?" cried Gash Gibbie, swinging 
 himself round to my side of the fire, and lifting himself 
 on his hands like a man that has no feet. " My minnie 
 will no' be here till the mornin', and then wo'll hac
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE BLACK CATS 297 
 
 company belike. For she's gane to warn Mardrochat 
 to send the sodgers to the twa run-awa' lassies up at 
 the bit bouroch on the MeauU o' Garryhorn." 
 
 " To bring the soldiers ? " I said, for the words made 
 me suddenly afraid. 
 
 " Aye," said the natural, looking cunningly at me, 
 " an' Gash Gibbie wad hae warned the bits o' lassies. 
 But he's ower gruesome a tyke t*) be welcome guest 
 in lady's bower. But Gibbie wishes the lassies no harm. 
 They are clever, well-busked hizzies." 
 
 " I wonder if there are any more wanderers in 
 hiding hereabouts," said I, thinking in my transparent 
 guile to find out whether the Cove Macaterick were 
 also known. 
 
 " Na, na, nane nearer than the Caldons in the 
 Howe o' Trool. There's some o' Peden's folk there 
 that my mither has put her spite on — but nane 
 nearer." 
 
 The thunder and lightning was just coming on, as I 
 passed the ring of cats in the outer darkness of the 
 hut, and looked out. " Good-night to ye, Gibbie," 
 said I, "and thank ye kindly for your crack and the 
 warming I hae gotten before the fire ! " 
 
 "Guid-e'en to yoursel', bonny laddie, an' a guid 
 journey to ye. It's gaun to be a coorse nicht, and 
 Gibbie maun gang awa ower the heather to see gin 
 his bonny mither doesna miss the road hame ! "
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 
 THE NICK o' THE DEID WIFE 
 
 I WENT out, and the whole night seemed empty about 
 me. The deep and wide basin between the hollow 
 palms of the hills was filled with an eery leme of 
 flame, flickering up from the ground. 
 
 I took my way with as great strides as I could 
 compass, back to the bower under the trees. The 
 thunder rolled continuously about and about. At 
 times it seemed to recede far away, but always sound- 
 ing from difi:erent places, as though many peals were 
 running races one with the other. Then the light- 
 ning flickered, and keen little arrows sped hither and 
 thither till the whole sky twanged like a harp. 
 
 It seemed a hundred miles to the shieling on the 
 hill. And when I came near I was astonished and 
 greatly afl:"righted to hear the sound of voices, and at 
 least one of them the voice of a man. A strange fear 
 came over me j hardly, I think, the fear of the King's 
 men. 
 
 " I hae brocht wi' me my silver spune," said a voice 
 that went to my heart ; " I made siccar o' my silver 
 spoon. Gin I hae to gang to the heather for the 
 Covenant, at least I shall gang as a lady ! " 
 
 It was my mother's voice, and I ran down to her, 
 falling into her arms, and bidding her to be quiet in 
 the same breath. 
 
 Wat had just arrived with my mother and little
 
 THE NICK O' THE DEID WIFE 299 
 
 Margaret of Glenvernock, who, winding herself about 
 all our hearts, had become as her own child to my 
 mother in the days of her loneliness. They were 
 weary and in need of rest ; but when I had told my 
 news and the warning I had gotten from Gash Gibbie 
 in the fearsome precincts of the hut of Corp-licht 
 Kate, every one felt the need of at once forsaking the 
 Bower of the Star and betaking ourselves to Cove 
 Macaterick — which, if not so pleasant or commodious, 
 was at least far more safe. 
 
 So we loaded us v/ith Hugh Kerr's meal, and the 
 little bits of things that the lassies had gathered about 
 them or brought with them. My mother carried only 
 an oaken staff in her hand, and in a satchel at her 
 girdle her beloved silver spoon (with "Mary Hope" 
 on it in antique letters), which her father had given 
 her for her own when she learned to read, and first 
 took her place at the table above the salt. 
 
 "O what wad he hae said, that was Lord President 
 of Session in his time, gin he had seen his dochter 
 Mary linkin' ower the heather wi' her coats kilted in her 
 auld age ? " my mother cried out once when we hurried 
 her. For she had ever a great notion of her lineage — 
 though indeed the Hopes are nothing to compare with 
 the Gordons for antiquity or distinction. 
 
 "I think your father was 'at the horn'mair nor 
 yince himsel', mither," said I, remembering certain 
 daffing talk of my father's. 
 
 " Aye, and that is just as true," said my mother, 
 reconciling herself to her position, " forbye it is weel 
 kenned that the wife aye wears the cockade of her 
 lord." 
 
 And at the word I thought of my Lady of Loch- 
 invar, and hearkened to Wat talking low to Kate
 
 300 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 McGhic. But as for me I kept my mother by my 
 side, and left Maisie Lennox to herself, remembering 
 the fifth commandment — and knowing likewise that it 
 would please Maisie best if I took care of my mother. 
 
 Thus we came to Cove Macaterick. 
 
 Now the cove upon the hillside is not wet and 
 chill as almost all sea caves are, where the water stands 
 on the floor and drips from every crevice. But it was 
 at least fairly dry, if not warm, and had been roughly 
 laid with bog-wood dug from the flowes, not squared 
 at all, but only filled in with heather tops till the floor 
 was elastic like the many-plied carpets of Whitehall. 
 
 There was, as I have said, an inner and an outer 
 cave, one opening out of the other, each apartment 
 being about sixteen feet every way, but much higher 
 towards the roof. And so it remained till late years, 
 when, as I hear from the herd of the Shalloch, the rocks 
 of the gairy face have settled more down upon them- 
 selves, and so have contracted the space. But the cave 
 remains to this day on the Back Hill of the Star over 
 the waters of Loch Macaterick. And the place is still 
 very lonely. Only the whaups, the ernes, and the 
 mountain sheep cry there, even as they did in our 
 hiding times. 
 
 We gave the inner (and higher) room to the women 
 folk, and divided the space with a plaid hung up at the 
 stone steps which formed a doorway. 
 
 We found Anton Lennox much recovered, but still 
 very weak and pale. He sat propped up on his heather 
 bed against the side of the cave. His countenance 
 appeared stern and warlike, even when it was too dark 
 to see, as it mostly was, his great sword leaning against 
 the wall by his side. 
 
 I need not tell of the jo)' there was when Maisie
 
 THE NICK O' THE DEID WIFE 301 
 
 Lennox greeted her father, and we that had been so wide 
 scattered drew together once again. But as soon as I 
 had told Wat of the happenings at the hut of Corp- 
 licht Kate, nothing would serve him but we must set 
 out and try to intercept the witch from fulfilling her 
 mission. For if she brought the soldiers upon us, our 
 trail from the bower among the trees was fresh and 
 might be followed. Wat was determined at all costs to 
 turn the witch ; and, having brought her to her house, 
 to keep a watch upon her there — at least till the rain 
 had washed away our footprints down the mountain- 
 side, and confused them among the moss-hags. 
 
 So leaving most unwillingly the snug and sheltered 
 place of Cove Macaterick, we stepped out into the 
 gloomy and threatening night. The wild-fire still 
 flickered, and the thunder rolled continuously ; but the 
 rain held off. The natural had mentioned that his 
 mother was making over the hills toward Straiton, 
 where for the time being Mardrochat, the informer, 
 dwelt, and where was quartered a troop of horse for the 
 overawing of the country. 
 
 We decided, therefore, that we should take our course 
 in that direction, which led past Peden's hut, where the 
 wanderer had abode so often. It was an uncanny 
 night, but in some fashion we stumbled along — now 
 falling into moss-hags almost to the waist, and now 
 scrambling out again, and so on without a word of 
 complaining. Wat's attire was not now such as that 
 he had donned to visit my Lady Wellvvood. It was 
 but of stout hodden grey and a checked plaid like ihe 
 rest. 
 
 So we mounted shoulder after shoulder of heathery 
 hillside, like vessels that labour over endless billows of 
 the sea against a head wind. The thundercloud which
 
 302 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 seemed to brood upon the outer circle of the hills, and 
 arch over the country of Macaterick and the Star, now 
 grumbled nearer and louder. Not seldom there came 
 a fierce, white, wimpling flash, and the encompassing 
 mountains seemed ready to burn up in the glare. 
 Then ensued darkness blacker than ever, and the 
 thunder shaking the world, as though it had been an 
 ill-builded house-place with skillets and pans clattering 
 on the wall. 
 
 We had been thus walking for some while, bearing 
 breast to the brae all the time, and leaning forward 
 even as a horse leans to its collar. We came in time 
 near to the height of the pass. We could not see a 
 yard before us. But suddenly we felt the ground 
 begin to level in front ; and lo ! in a moment we were 
 in the throat of the defile, with the hills black above us 
 on either side. Suddenly there came a terrible white 
 flash of lightning, brighter and longer continued than 
 any we had seen. The very air seemed to grow blue-black 
 like indigo. The thunder tore the heavens, galloping 
 without ceasing. Flash followed rending flash. Im- 
 mediately before us on a hillock we saw a wondrous 
 sight. There sat Gash Gibbie, the misshaped idiot, 
 crouched squat like a toad, at the head of a woman 
 who lay with her arms straight at her sides, as though 
 stretched for burial. 
 
 As we stood illumined against the murky blackness 
 of the pass, the monstrous thing caught sight of us, 
 and waved his hands, dancing meantime (as it seemed) 
 upon spindles of legs. How he had come so far and 
 so swiftly on such a night I cannot tell. But without 
 doubt there he was on the highest rock of the pass, 
 with the dead woman stretched at his feet, and the 
 fitful blue gleam of the lightning playing about him.
 
 THE NICK O' THE DEID WIFE 303 
 
 And I warrant you it was not a comely or a canny 
 sight. 
 
 " Come ye here," cried the idiot lad, wavering above 
 us as though he were dancing in the reek of the nether 
 pit, "an' see what Yon has done to mymither. I aye 
 telled her how it wad be. It doesna do to strive wi' 
 Yon. For Yon can gie ye your paiks so brave and 
 easy. But my mither, she wad never hear reason, 
 and so there she lies, dead streeked in the ' Nick 
 o' the Deid Wife.' Yon has riven the life frae my 
 mither I " 
 
 We were close at his side by this time, and we saw 
 an irksome sight, that shook our nerves more than the 
 thunder. A woman of desperately evil countenance 
 lay looking past us, her eyes fixed with an expression 
 of bitter wrath and scorn upon the black heavens. 
 Her face and hands were stained of a deep crimson 
 colour, either by the visitation of God or made to 
 seem so by the flickering flame of wildfire that played 
 about us.
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 THE VENGEANCE OF " YON." 
 
 Gash Gibbie surveyed the sight with a kind of 
 twisted satisfaction. He went hirpling about the body 
 round and round. He squatted with crossed legs at its 
 head. 
 
 " What thinlc ye o' that ? " he asked. " That's my 
 mither. She's near as bonny as me, think ye no ? 
 Yon micht hae made her bonnier to look at, gin He 
 was to be so ill to her." 
 
 And the monster crouched still lower, and took the 
 terrible scarlet-stained face and neck on his knees. 
 
 " Mither ! mither ! " he wailed, " I aye telled ye it 
 wad come to this — mockin' Yon disna do. A wee 
 while, maybe. He lets ye gang on ; but no for lang ! 
 Yon can bide His time, and juist when ye are crawin' 
 croose, and thinkin' on how blythe and canty ye are — 
 blaff" ! like a flaught o' fire — Yon comes upon ye; and 
 where are ye ? " 
 
 He took a long and apparently well-satisfied look at 
 his mother. 
 
 " Aye, there ye lie, an' by my faith, ye are no bonny, 
 mither o' mine. Mony is the time I telled ye what it 
 wad be, afore Yon had dune wi' ye." 
 
 Small wonder that it chilled our blood to hear the 
 twisted being cry out thus upon the mother that bore 
 him. He seemed even no little pleased that what he had 
 foretold had come to pass. So we stood, Wat and I, in
 
 THE VENGEANCE OF "YON" 305 
 
 silent amaze before him, as the storm continued to 
 blare till the whole heaven above us appeared but the 
 single mouth of a black trumpet. 
 
 Sometimes we seemed to be in a large place, ribbed 
 and raftered with roaring sound, upholstered with 
 lightning flashes of pale violet and blue. Then again 
 the next moment we were shut within a tent of velvet 
 blackness like a pall, with only the echoes of the 
 warring midnight rolling away back among the hills. 
 There seemed no God of Pity abroad that night to 
 look after puir muir-wandered folk, but only mocking 
 devili riding roughshod on the horses of the pit. 
 
 "Come away hame, Gibbie," said I, "ye can do 
 her little good. I fear she's by wi' it ! " 
 
 " By wi' it ! " quoth the natural, fleeringly. " Na, 
 only beginning wi' it. D'ye no ken, hill-man-wi'-the- 
 hirpling-leg, that Yon has gotten her. I can see her 
 stannin' afore Yon, wi' her face like red fire, a black 
 lie in her mouth and ill-intent in her heart. For as 
 the tree falls, so doth it lie." 
 
 The imp seemed to have gotten the words at some 
 field-preaching. 
 
 " Think ye I didna warn her ? " he went on. " My 
 braw chiels, ye hae gotten your warnin' this nicht ! 
 Meddle na wi' Yon, neither dare Him to His face lest 
 He be angry. For juist like Gibbie killin' a speckly 
 taed. Yon can set His heel on ye ! " 
 
 He stroked the hair off the dead woman's brow with 
 a hand like a hairy claw. 
 
 " Aye, an' ye were na sic an ill mither to me, though 
 ye selled yoursel' to Ye-Ken-Wha ! Whatna steer 
 there is up there aboot the soul o' ae puir auld body. 
 Hear till it " 
 
 And he waved his hands to the four airts of heaven, 
 
 u
 
 3o6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 and called us to hearken to the hills shaking themselves 
 to pieces. "Siccan a steer aboot a puir feckless auld 
 woman gaun to her ain ill place ! I wonder Yon is 
 no' shamed o' Himsel' ! " 
 
 And the twisted man-thing put his hands to his 
 brow and pressed the palms upon his eyes, as if to shut 
 out the unceasing pulsing of the lightning and the 
 roar of the anger of God breaking like a sea upon 
 the mountains. 
 
 " Sae muckle squandered for sae little — an' after a' but 
 little pleasure in the thing ! I dinna see what there is 
 in the Black Man's service to mak' siccan a brag aboot. 
 Gin ye sup tasty kail wi' him in the forenicht, he aye 
 ca's roond wi' the lawin' i' the mornin' ! 
 
 " Losh ! Losh ! Sae muckle for sae little. I declare 
 I will cut oot the three marks that my mither made 
 on me, and gang doon to Peden at the Shalloch. I 
 want na mair sic wark as this ! Na, though I was 
 born wi' the Black Man's livery on me ! 
 
 " Preserve us ! " he cried. " This is as fearsome as 
 that year there was nae meat in the hoose, and Gash 
 Gibbie brocht some back, and aye brocht it, and brocht 
 it even as it was needed. And Kate o' the Corp-licht, 
 she readied it and asked nae quastions. But only tearin' 
 belly-hunger gied us strength to eat that awesome 
 meat. An' a' the neighbours died o' starvation at 
 Tonskeen and the Star an' the bonny Hill o' the Buss — 
 a' but Gib an' his mither, their leevin' lanes. But yae 
 nicht Yon sent Gibbie's sin to find him oot; or maybe 
 the Black Thing in the Hole gat lowse, because it was 
 his hour. 
 
 " And at ony rate puir Gibbie gat a terrible fricht 
 that nicht. 
 
 *' Wad ye like to hear ? Aweel, puir Gibbie was
 
 THE VENGEANCE OF "YON" 307 
 
 lying on his bed up that stair, an' what think ye there 
 cam to him ? " 
 
 He paused and looked at us with a countenance so 
 blanched and terrible that almost we turned and ran. 
 For the lightning played upon it till it seemed to glow 
 with unholy light, and that not from without but from 
 within. It was the most terrifying thing to be alone 
 with such a monstrous living creature and such a dead 
 woman in the lonesome place he had called the " Nick 
 of the Deid Wife." What with the chatterino- of our 
 
 O 
 
 teeth, the agitation of our spirits, and the flicker of the 
 fire, the old dead witch seemed actually to rise and nod 
 at us. 
 
 " So Gash Gibbie, puir man, lay and listened in his 
 naked bed, for he had gotten his fill that nicht, though 
 a' the lave were hungry — an' that o' his ain providin'. 
 But as he lay sleepless, he heard a step come to the 
 door, the sneck lifted itsel,' an' a foot that wasna his 
 mither's came into the passage, dunt-dioitin' like a 
 lameter hirplin' on two staves ! 
 
 " An' then there cam' a hard footstep on the stair, and 
 a rattle o' fearsome-like sounds, as the thing cam' up 
 the ladder. Gibbie kenned na what it micht be. An' 
 when the door opened an' the man wi' the wooden feet 
 cam' in — preserve me, but he was a weary-lookin' tyke. 
 
 "' Whaur came ye frae ? ' says puir Gash Gibbie. 
 
 " ' Frae the Grave ! ' says he. He hadna muckle to 
 say, but his e'en war like fiery gimblets in his head. 
 
 " ' What mak's your e'en bones sae white an' deep?' 
 
 " ' The Grave ! ' says he. He hadna muckle to say, 
 but he spak' aye mair dour and wearisome than ever. 
 
 " ' What mak's ye lauch sae wide at puir Gibbie ? 
 
 "'The Grave!' says he. He hadna muckle to say, 
 but syne he steppit nearer, nearer to the bedside.
 
 3o8 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " 'What made that great muckle hole in your side?' 
 
 " ' You made it ! ' cried the ghaist, loupin' at 
 Gibbie's throat ; an' puir Gib kenned nae mair." 
 
 And even as the monster shouted out the last words 
 — the words of the spectre of his cannibal vision — Gash 
 Gibbie seemed to us to dilate and lean forward to 
 sprint upon us. The wild fire reeled about as though 
 the very elements were drunken, and Wat and I fairly 
 turned and fled, shouting insanely with terror as we 
 ran — leaving the silent stricken witch with the face 
 of blood, and that misshapen elf, her hell's brood 
 proo-eny, raving and shouting on the hillside-^these 
 two alone at midnight in the " Nick of the Deid 
 Wife." 
 
 " Aye, rin, rin,** we heard him call after us. " Rin 
 fast, and Yon will maybe no' catch ye— till it is your 
 hour ! " 
 
 And truly Wat and I did run in earnest, stumbling 
 and crying out in our terror — now falling and now 
 getting up, then falling to the running again without 
 a single reasonable word. But as we came hot-foot 
 over the Rig of Lochricaur, we seemed to run into the 
 sheeted rain. For where we had been hitherto, only 
 the blue dry fire had ringed us, but here we ran into 
 a downpour as though the fountains of the deep of 
 heaven had broken up and were falling in a white spate 
 upon the world. 
 
 We were wet, weary, and terrified, more than 
 we had ever been in our lives, before we reached the 
 hermitage of the cave of Macaterick. There we found 
 the women waiting for us, listening fearfully to the 
 roar of the storm without, and hearkening in the lown 
 blinks to auld Anton Lennox praying — -while the 
 lightning seemed to run into the cave, and shine on the
 
 THE VENGEANCE OF "YON" 309 
 
 blade of the sword he held gripped in his right hand. 
 So we stripped our wet clothes, and lay in the outer 
 place all the night, where there was a fire of red peats, 
 while the women withdrew themselves into their inner 
 sanctuary. I could see the anxiety in their eyes when 
 we came in, for they could not but discern the ghastly 
 terror in our faces. But without any agreement be- 
 tween ourselves, Wat and I silently resolved that we 
 should not acquaint any of the party with the hideous 
 judgments of that night to which we had been eye- 
 witnesses.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV 
 
 A DESIRABLE GENERAL MEETING 
 
 The next morning dawned colder and more chilly. 
 The catch of the autumn of the year was in the air, 
 and it nipped shrewdly till the sun looked over the 
 hills in the east. This was to be the great day of the 
 Societies' general meeting, which had been summoned 
 in the wilds of Shalloch-on-Minnoch.* 
 
 * Now, because men so readily forget, I may repeat 
 how that the United Societies had grown in strength since 
 Ayrsmoss, and now needed only a head to make a stand 
 for the cause. It was a strange way of the Providence of 
 God, that it should come about that these little meetings 
 for prayer in remote places of the land, should grow to be 
 so mighty a power for the pulling down of strongholds. 
 At this time, though every appearance in arms had been 
 put down at Pentland, at Bothwell, and at Ayrsmoss, yet 
 the Blue Banner itself had never been put down. And 
 even now many a Malignant in the south and west trembled 
 at the great and terrible name of the " Seven Thousand." 
 
 The proclamations of the Societies, which were affixed 
 to every kirk, door and market cross in the south, caused 
 many a persecutor and evil-wisher to quake and be silent. 
 And the word that God was building for Himself a folk 
 on the hills of Scotland reached even to the Low Countries, 
 and kept the Prince of Orange and his counsellors watch- 
 ing with eager eyes those things which were done by 
 the Remnant over seas, till the appointed hour should 
 come. Heading and hanging would not last for ever, and
 
 A DESIRABLE GENERAL MEETING 311 
 
 Though the mom had dawned caller, with a white 
 rime of frost lying on the grass and for a little space 
 making grey the leaves of the trees, the day of the 
 great conventicle was one of great and lowering heat. 
 My mother was set to go — and Kate McGhie also. 
 Wat must needs therefore accompany them, and I 
 had a letter from Groningen which I behoved to read. 
 With Anton Lennox, stout of heart even in his sick- 
 ness, abode my lass, Maisie Lennox — of whom (though 
 I looked to be back on the morrow) I took leave 
 with reluctance and with a heavy and sinking heart. 
 
 For us who were used to making a herd's track 
 across the hills, it was not a long step over the moors 
 from Macaterick to the foot of the Craigfacie of 
 Shalloch, where the General Meeting ot the Societies 
 was to take place. But it was a harder matter for my 
 mother. 
 
 such is the binding power of persecution that for each one 
 cut off by prison, or the hangman's cord, ten were sworn 
 in to do the will of the Societies. Till this present time 
 most fatal dissension and division among themselves had 
 been their undoing. But there was one coming, now a 
 willow wand of a student of Groningen in Holland, who 
 should teach the Societies to be a wall of fire about their 
 faith and their land. 
 
 To their conventions came commissioners from all parts 
 of Scotland, but mainly from the southern and western 
 shires, as well as from the Merse, and out of the bounds 
 of Fife. 
 
 So grateful and inspiring were these gatherings, that 
 many went to their death recalling the grace and beauty 
 of these meetings — "desirable general meetings" — they 
 were in deed and sooth, at least as I remember them. — 
 (W. G., Afton, 1702.)
 
 312 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 She needed help over every little brink of a peat 
 brow, and as we passed Tonskeen, where there is a 
 herd's house in the wild, far from man and very quiet 
 with God, I ran to get her a staff, which the shep- 
 herd's good wife gladly gave. For there was little 
 that would be refused to a wanderer in these parts, 
 when on his way to a Societies' Meeting. 
 
 Soon we left the strange, unsmiling face of Loch 
 Macaterick behind, and took our way towards the 
 rocky clint, up which we had to climb. We went by 
 the rocks that are called the Rig of Carclach, where 
 there is a pass less steep than in other places, up to the 
 long wild moor of the Shalloch-on-Minnoch. It was 
 a weary job getting my mother up the steep face of 
 the gairy, for she had so many nick-nacks to carry, 
 and so many observes to make. 
 
 But when we got to the broad plain top of the 
 Shalloch Hill it was easier to go forward, though at 
 first the ground was boggy, so that we took off our 
 stockings and walked on the driest part. We left the 
 burn of Knocklach on our left — playing at keek-bogle 
 among the heather and bent — now standing stagnant 
 in pools, now rindling clear over slaty stones, and 
 again disappearing altogether underground like a 
 hunted Covenanter. 
 
 As soon as we came over the brow of the hill, we 
 could see the folk gathering. It was wonderful to 
 watch them. Groups of little black dots moved across 
 the green meadows in which the farmsteading of the 
 Shalloch-on-Minnoch was set — a cheery little house, 
 well thatched, and with a pew of blue smoke blowing 
 from its chimney, telling of warm hearts within. Over 
 the short brown heather of the tops the groups of 
 wanderers came, even as we were doing ourselves — ■
 
 A DESIRABLE GENERAL MEETING 513 
 
 past the lonely copse at the Rowantree, by the hillside 
 track from Straiton, up the little runlet banks where 
 the heather was blushing purple, they wended their 
 ways, all setting towards one place in the hollow. 
 There already was gathered a black cloud of folk under 
 the nckle of stones that runs slidingly down from the 
 steep brow of Craigfacie. 
 
 As we drew nearer we could see the notable Session 
 Stone, a broad flat stone overhanging the Httle pourie 
 burn that tinkles and lingers among the slaty rocks, 
 now shining bone-white in the glare of the autumn 
 sun. I never saw a fairer place, for the heights about 
 are good for sheep, and all the other hills distant and 
 withdrawn. It has not, indeed, the eye-taking glorious 
 beauty of the glen of Trool, but nevertheless it looked 
 a very Sabbath-land of benediction and peace that day 
 of the great Societies' Meeting. 
 
 Upon the Session Stone the elders were already 
 greeting one another, mostly white-headed men with 
 dinted and furrowed faces, bowed and broken by long 
 sojourning among the moss-hags and the caves. 
 
 When we came to the place we found the folk 
 gathering- for prayer, before the conference of the 
 chosen delegates of the Societies. The women sat on 
 plaids that had been folded for comfort. Opposite 
 the Session Stone was a wide heathery amphitheatre, 
 where, as on tiers of seats, rows of men and women 
 could sit and listen to the preachers. The burnie's 
 voice filled up the breaks in the speech, as it ran small 
 and black with the drought, under the hollow of the 
 bank. For, as is usual upon our moors, the rain and 
 storm of the night had not reached this side of the 
 hill. 
 
 I sat down on a lichened stone and looked at the
 
 314 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 grave, well-armed men who gathered fast about the 
 Session Stone, and on the delegates' side of the water. 
 It was a fitting place for such a gathering, for only 
 from the lonely brown hills above could the little cup 
 of Conventicle be seen, nestling in the lap of the hill. 
 And on all the moor tops that looked every way, 
 couching torpid and drowsed in the hot sun, were to 
 be seen the sentinels — pacing the heather like watch- 
 men going round and telling the towers of Zion, the 
 sun flashing on their pikes and musket barrels as they 
 turned sharply, like men well-disciplined. 
 
 The only opening was to the south-west, but even 
 there nothing but the distant hills of Colmonell looked 
 in, blue and serene. Down in the hollow there was a 
 glint of melancholy Loch Moan, lying all abroad 
 among its green wet heather and stretches of yellow 
 bent. 
 
 What struck me as most surprising in this assembly 
 was the entire absence of anything like concealment. 
 From every quarter, up from the green meadows of 
 the Minnoch Valley, over the scaurs of the Straiton 
 hills, down past the craigs of Craigfacie, over from the 
 deep howe of Carsphairn, streams of men came walking 
 and riding. The sun glinted on their war-gear. Had 
 there been a trooper within miles, upon any of the 
 circle of the hills, the dimples of light could not have 
 been missed. P'or they caught the sun and flecked 
 the heather — as when one looks upon a sparkling sea, 
 with the sun rising over it and each wave carrying its 
 own glint of light with it upon its moving crest. 
 
 As I looked, the heart within me became glad with 
 a full-grown joy. So long had wc of the Religion 
 hidden like foxes and run like hares, that we had 
 forgotten that there were so many in the like case,
 
 A DESIRABLE GENERAL MEETING 315 
 
 only needing drawing together to be the one pov/cr in 
 the land. But the time, though at hand, was not yet. 
 
 I asked of a dark long-haired man who stood near 
 us, what was the meaning of such a gathering. He 
 looked at me with a kind of pity, and I saw the 
 enthusiasm flash from his eye. 
 
 " The Seven Thousand ! " he said ; " ken ye not 
 the Seven Thousand upon the hills of Scotland, that 
 never bowed the knee to Baal ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, friend," said I, " long hiding on the 
 mountains has made me ignorant. But who are the 
 Seven Thousand ? " 
 
 " Have ve indeed hidden on the mountains and ken 
 not that ? Did ye never hear of them that wait for the 
 time appointed ? " 
 
 I told him no. 
 
 "Then," said he,"who may you be that kens so little?" 
 
 I said that I was William Gordon, younger son of 
 the persecuted house of the Gordons of Earlstoun. 
 
 " O, the Bull's brother ! " said he, shortly, and turned 
 him about to go away. But Spitfire Wat was at his 
 side, and, taking the dark man by the elbow, presently 
 halted him and span him round so that he faced us. 
 
 "And v/ho are you that si>eaks so lightly of my 
 cousin of Earlstoun ? " he asked. 
 
 I think Wat had forgotten that he was not now 
 among his Cavalier blades — who, to do them justice, 
 are ready to put every pot-house quarrel to the arbitra- 
 ment of the sword, which is after all a better way 
 than disputation and the strife of tongues. 
 
 The dark man smiled. " Ye are hot, young sir," 
 he said bitterly. "These manners better befit the 
 guard-room of Rob Grier of Lag than a gathering of 
 the Seven Thousand. But since ye ask my name, I
 
 3i6 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 am poor unworthv Robin Hamilton, on whom the 
 Lord hath set His hand." 
 
 Then we knew that this dark-browed man was Sir 
 Robert Hamilton, who with my brother Sandy had 
 been the Societies' Commissioner to the Low Counties, 
 and who was here at Shalloch-on-Minnoch to defend 
 his action. He was also brother of Jean Hamilton, 
 Sandy's wife, and of a yet more sombre piety. 
 
 Then, though I knew well that he had been the 
 rock on which the Covenant ship split at Bothwell, 
 and a stone of stumbling in our counsels ever since, 
 vet, because he looked so weary and broken with toils, 
 travels, and watchings, my heart could not choose but 
 go out to him. 
 
 As he looked and said nothing, a more kindly light 
 came into his eye as he gazed at Wat. " Ye will be 
 Black Bess of Lochinvar's son — a tacked-on Covenant 
 man. But I doubt not a kindly lad, for all ye are so 
 brisk with your tongue and ready with your blade. I 
 have seen the day when it would have done me a plea- 
 sure to step out with you, in days that were full of the 
 pride of the flesh. I do not blame you. To fight first 
 and ask wherefore after, is the Gordon all over. But 
 do not forget that this day, here on the wild side of the 
 Shalloch-on-Minnoch, there are wellnigh a thousand 
 gentlemen of as good blood as your own. Homespun 
 cloth and herds' plaidies cover many a man of ancient 
 name this day, that never thought to find himself in 
 arms against the King, even for the truth's sake." 
 
 Robert Hamilton spoke with such an air of dignity 
 and sadness, that Wat lifted his hand to his blue bonnet 
 in token that he was pacified. And with a kindly nod 
 the stranger turned among the throng that now filled 
 all the spacious place of meeting.
 
 CHAPTER XLV 
 
 THE OUTFACING OF CLAVERS 
 
 It was indeed a wonderful sight and made our hearts 
 beat high only to look at it. Upon the Session Stone 
 twelve men stood with heads bared to the fierce heat 
 of the sun. All of them were grey-headed men, saving 
 two only, a lad of a pale and girlish face with dark 
 sweet eyes, and towering above him, the flecked raven 
 locks of Sir Robert Hamilton. These twelve were 
 the commissioners of districts, all ordained elders. At 
 one side was a little table brought from the house 
 of the Shalloch, and a man sat at it busily writing. 
 By a curious sword cut across his cheek, I knew him 
 for Michael Shields, presently the clerk, and afterwards 
 the historian of the United Societies. 
 
 Behind upon the hillside was drawn up a guard of 
 two hundred horse. And the tossing bits and jingling 
 accoutrements made a pleasant sound to me that loved 
 such things, which were mostly the portion of our 
 enemies. The wide amphitheatre opposite to the 
 Session Stone was occupied chiefly by the women and 
 older men, who, as I have said, sat upon plaids spread 
 upon the bank. Behind these again, and extending far 
 up the gently sloping side of the Shalloch Hill, was a 
 noble sight, that made me gasp for gladness. Company 
 behind company were ranked the men whom Robert 
 Hamilton had called the Seven Thousand. There 
 were oflicers on their flanks, on whose drawn swords
 
 3i8 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 the sun glittered ; and though there was no uniformity 
 of dress, there was in every bonnet the blue favour of 
 the Covenant. Their formation was so steady and 
 their numbers so large that the whole hillside seemed 
 covered with their regiments. Looking back over the 
 years, I think we might have risked a Dunkeld before 
 the time with such an ordered host. 
 
 I heard one speaking in the French language at my 
 elbow, and looked about me. Whereupon I spied two 
 men who had been walking to and fro among the 
 companies. 
 
 "But all this will do little good for a time," said one 
 of the speakers. "We must keep them out of the 
 field till we are ready. They need one to draw them 
 into the bond of obedience. They are able to fight 
 singly, but together they cannot fight." 
 
 " No matter," said the other, " they will stand us 
 in good stead one day when the Prince sails over. 
 The Seven Thousand shall be our mainstay in that 
 day, not in Scotland only, but in Britain." 
 
 By this I guessed that these two were officers of 
 the Prince of Orange sent over to see if the times 
 were yet ripe. 
 
 Meanwhile the meeting proceeded to its end amid 
 the voice of prayer and the solemn throb of psalmody. 
 It was a great and gracious thing to hear the swell of 
 praise that went up from that hillside, from the men 
 who had worshipped only in the way of silence and in 
 private, because they dared no other, for many weary 
 months. 
 
 It was about the third hour of the afternoon, and we 
 had not begun to wax weary, v/hen, away on the hill- 
 side, we heard the sound of cheering. We looked 
 about us to see what might be the cause. There
 
 THE OUTFACING OF CLAVERS 319 
 
 came one riding slowly down upon a much-tired horse 
 between the ranks of the companies — a great tall man 
 in a foreign coat and hat, whom at the first glint my 
 mother knew for Sandy my brother. 
 
 As he came nearer the roar of greeting swelled and 
 lifted. I declare I was proud of him. Even Robert 
 Hamilton had gotten no such greeting. I had not 
 thought that our Sandy was so well-kenned a man. 
 And I forgave him for flouting me. 
 
 " Mother," I said, ** that is our Sandy they are 
 cheering ! " 
 
 " Think ye I kenned not that ! Whaur has he 
 come frae ? " she said. " I wonder if Jean Hamilton 
 kens." 
 
 It was like my mother to think first of others ; but 
 in a little she said : 
 
 " I trust I am not overproud that my bairn is so 
 honoured." 
 
 And indeed it made us all proud that Sandy was thus 
 greatly thought of. So in a little he also took his 
 place on the Session Stone, and made another young 
 head among the greybeards. Soon he was called upon 
 to speak, and in his sounding voice he began to tell of 
 his message from the kirks of Holland, and to commend 
 patience and faithfulness. They say that every man 
 that stood to arms among the Seven Thousand heard 
 him that day. Aye, and that even the watchers upon 
 the tops caught many blessed words and expressions, 
 which the light winds blew them in wafts. Saving 
 Richard Cameron's alone, there was no such voice as 
 Sandy's heard in Scotland during all his time. 
 
 Then Robert Hamilton rose and spoke, counselling 
 that since there were so many present, they should 
 once more and immediately fall to arms.
 
 320 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 But one of the most venerable men there present, 
 rose. 
 
 " Robin, ye are but one of the Council of Twelve, 
 and ye know that our decision is to wait the man and 
 tlie hour. It beseems you, then, either to speak within 
 the order of the Society or to be silent." 
 
 Last of all the youns; man rose, he of the pale coun- 
 tenance and the clustering hair. 
 
 " It is young Mr. James Renwick, who is going 
 abroad to study and be ordained at Groningen in the 
 Low Countries," said one near to mc. And indeed 
 he was mightily changed, so that I had scarce known 
 him. 
 
 The lad's voice was sweet and thrilling, persuasive 
 beyond belief. In especial, coming after the mighty 
 roaring of the Bull of Earlstoun (so they called Sandy) 
 and the rasping shriek of Robin Hamilton, it had a 
 great effect upon me. There came a sough from the 
 people as his words ran over them, like a soothing and 
 fanning wind blowing winningly among the trees of 
 the wood. 
 
 So the day passed and the gladness of the people 
 increased, till some of us felt that it was like the golden 
 gates of heaven just to be there. For the passion of a 
 multitude of folk with one heart's desire, thrilling to 
 the one word and the one hope, had taken hold on us. 
 The like was never seen upon the wild mountains of 
 the south. 
 
 Then, as though to recall us to earth, from the 
 green meads of the Minnochside there came one run- 
 ning to pass the word that the enemy was in sight. 
 Two companies of Strachan's Dragoons, with all 
 Claverhouse's levies, were riding from Straiton as fast 
 as their horses could carry them. Whereat, without
 
 THE OUTFACING OF CLAVERS 321 
 
 haste and with due solemnity, the great and desir- 
 able General Meeting of the United Societies held on 
 the wilds of Shalloch-on-Minnoch was brought to an 
 end. 
 
 The women and aged men were placed behind the 
 companies, and such as could reach home without 
 passing the troopers' line of march were set upon their 
 way. But when once we found ourselves without the 
 lines of the companies, which stretched across from 
 the black downthrow of rocks upon Craigfacie to 
 the Rig of the Shalloch Hill, my mothe*- would go no 
 farther. 
 
 " Na," she said, "gang your ways back doon. This 
 is the place for Kate and for an auld wife like me. 
 But it shall never be said that William Gordon's wife 
 grudged both her sons to the work of the Lord ! " 
 
 So Wat and I went our ways down to where Sandy 
 stood as chosen leader of the army of the Seven 
 Thousand. He paid, indeed, but little attention to 
 us, giving us no more than a nod, yet instantly setting 
 us upon errands for him. 
 
 "Will ye fight?" said I, v/hen I got a quiet 
 moment of him. 
 
 "Alas!" he said, "there is no such good luck. 
 Had I not the direct message of the Prince to abide 
 and wait, I v/ould even now strike a blow. As it is, we 
 must just stand to our arms. I would to God it were 
 otherwise ! " 
 
 The companies or mounted soldiers rapidly ap- 
 proached, to the number of perhaps three hundred. 
 But I think they were daunted, when from a knoll 
 below the house of the Shalloch they first saw our 
 great and imposing army. They sav there were over 
 two thousand under arms that day. 
 
 X
 
 322 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " The Seven Thousand will surely stay John Graham 
 this day ? " said one at my elbow. 
 
 But Claverhouse was not a man easily feared. 
 
 Leaving his men, he rode forward alone, having but 
 a trumpeter someway behind him. He held a white 
 handkerchief in his hand, and waved it as he rode 
 towards us upon his war-horse. I saw the trumpeter 
 lad look about him more than once, as if he wished 
 himself well out of it. But Colonel Graham rode 
 straight at the centre of our array as if it had been his 
 own. Sandy went out to meet him. 
 
 "Will ye surrender and lay down your arms to 
 the King's troops ? " cried Clavers as he came near. 
 Since then I have never denied the man courage, for 
 all his cruelty. 
 
 There came a gust of laughter rrom the nearer 
 companies of our array when they heard his words. 
 But Sandy checked the noise with his hand. 
 
 "Surrender ! " he said. " It is you, John Graham, 
 that may talk of surrender this day. We are no 
 rebels. We but stand to our arms in defence of our 
 covenant rights." 
 
 " Keep that Whig garbage for the prayer-meeting, 
 Earlstoun ! " said Claverhouse. " I at least know you 
 too well, Sandy Gordon. Do you mind the long wood 
 of Dairsie by the Eden Water ? " 
 
 What he meant I cannot tell, but I think his words 
 daunted Sandy for a moment. For in his old un- 
 sanctified days they had been fast comrades, being of 
 an age, and student lads together at Saint Andrews^ 
 where both were equally keen of the play upon the 
 green ; though ever since Sandy married Jean 
 Hamilton he had turned him to new courses. 
 
 So having obtained no satisfaction, Claverhouse rode
 
 THiE OUTFACING OF CLAVERS 323 
 
 slowly back to the Dragoons. Then without a word, 
 save the shout of command, he led them forward over 
 the moor toward us. 
 
 "Sain my soul and body," said Wat, "is the 
 Heather Cat going to charge an army in position ? " 
 An.d indeed it looked like it. 
 
 But as he came toward us, from the front rank 
 where Sandy stood with a broadsword bare in his hand, 
 and his horse brisk as though it had just been led from 
 its stall, came my brother's voice. 
 
 " If ye set a horse's hoof over that burn, ye shall 
 receive our fire. Men, make ready ! " 
 
 Right up to the burn bank rode Clavers and his 
 troop, and there halted. For a long minute he looked 
 at us very contemptuously. Then he snapped his 
 fingers at us. 
 
 " That for ye ! " he cried. " Ye stand the day. 
 Ye shall be scattered the morn. I ken ye brawly. 
 Among a' your testimonies there is not one which 
 any three of ye could read over and not fall out about. 
 This day ye are on the brae face. The morn ye'U 
 be at the dyke back, with an ounce or two of his 
 Majesty's excellent lead in ye. God save the King ! " 
 
 And with that he waved his hand, cried to his men, and 
 rode oft like the steeve and dour persecutor that he was. 
 
 In the late evening we took my mother and Kate 
 back again over the hill. My mother was very weary 
 — so weary that at the house of Tonskeen we left her 
 with the decent man and wife that abode there, with 
 Kate to bear her company. She was not used to the 
 life on the hills, and so for that time could flee no 
 further. It was just grey day v/hen we took the 
 short v/ay down the face of the gairy, that lifts its 
 brow over the desolate moor of Macaterick. Being
 
 324 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 uncumbered with women-folk, Wat and I now came 
 down the nearest way, that which leads by the strange 
 rocky hollow, steep on every side, which is named the 
 Maiden's Bed. So, fleet of foot, we fled westwards. 
 
 As we looked, the sun began to rise over the Range 
 of Kells and the tide of light flowed in upon us, 
 gladdening our hearts, Wat was not so brisk as I, for 
 he had left Kate behind ; and though young men in 
 times of danger have perforce to think of their skins first 
 and of their maids after, yet it makes not the foot move 
 so light when it must step out away from the beloved. 
 
 But all the same, it was a bright morning when we 
 clambered down the steep side of the hill that looks 
 toward Macaterick. The feathery face of the rock 
 above the levels of Macaterick, and the burn that 
 flows from it by links and shallows into Loch Doon, 
 glanced bright with the morning sun upon them. And 
 there at last was the cave-mouth hidden under the 
 boskage of the leaves. 
 
 I ran on before Wat, outstripping him, albeit that 
 for ordinary he was more supple than I — so great was 
 my desire to see Maisic Lennox, and assure myself that 
 all had gone well with her father. I had not a thought 
 but that she would be sitting safely within, with the 
 cave garnished with fresh leaves like a bower, and her 
 father watching her at her knitting through his bushy 
 eyebrows. 
 
 Smiling, I lifted the curtain of birch leaves. Great 
 God of Heaven ! The cave was wholly empty, as I 
 slid down into it ! Maisie and her father had vanished ! 
 
 I stood as one desperately amazed. There was no 
 life or thought or soul left in me. I stood as one 
 stands at the threshold of his home, before whom a gulf 
 suddenly yawns fathomless.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI 
 
 THE FIGHT AT THE CALDONS 
 
 Now that which follows is the telling of Toskrie Tam, 
 who is now a gardener at Afton, but who, in the old 
 days, being bitten by the worldly delight of soldiering, 
 had ridden with Clavers and Lag in the tumultuous 
 times. Tam is a long loose-jointed loon, for ever 
 crying about rheumatism, but a truthteller (as indeed 
 John Graham taught him to be), and one that his 
 wife has in subjection. There is the root of the old 
 man in Tam yet. For though he is an elder now, 
 oftentimes I have come on him round a corner, using 
 most uncovenanted language to his underlings. But 
 he is a good gardener, and there is no service in being 
 over-gleg in the hearing with such. Besides, his wife 
 clours him soundly enough when there is need. 
 
 Somewhat after the following manner Tam told his 
 tale, a trifle unwillingly at first, but warming with the 
 recollection as he proceeded. 
 
 " Aweel, Sir William, gin ye insist. No that I like 
 to be speakin' aboot thae days ; but as ye inform me 
 that it is a' to be written doon, I'll tell ye it word for 
 word. Weel, after the Conventiclers had outfaced us 
 at the Shalloch-on-Minnoch, Clavers and Douglas rode 
 south to the Minnoch Brig that looks to Loch Trool. 
 
 "'There's a dour pack o' Whigs up that glen,' says 
 Clavers. ' Think ye we will take a turn and steer 
 them ? '
 
 326 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 "'Thev will just be hiving hame frae the con- 
 venticle. 'We shall catch them as they run,' Douglas 
 made answer. 
 
 " So without a word more, slack rein and go-as-you- 
 please, we rode up Glen Trool. It was a bonny nicht 
 and at a' times a bonny place, but the track was ill to 
 keep, and we rode loose and scattering. Douglas was 
 fair foaming with the affront of the Shalloch, and 
 vowed, as he had often vowed before, that he would 
 never more spare hilt or hair of the accursed breed. 
 
 "At the Caldons, a bit farmhouse set on a rig among 
 trees at the foot of Loch Trool, Gib Macaterick and I 
 were riding on ahead down by the waterside by the loch, 
 when suddenly, without warning, we came on a little 
 cloud of men all on their knees praying behind a dyke 
 back. They were so busy with the supplications that 
 they did not notice us. And we that looked for pro- 
 motion over the head of the business, covered them 
 with our muskets and called to them to surrender for 
 traitors and rebels. But in a trice they were over the 
 dyke and at us like wild cats, gripping our horses and 
 tumbling us off. They got Gib down, but I that was 
 suppler, managed to jook among the young oak-trees 
 and run what I was fit back to the troop. 
 
 " Douglas was in command, for Clavers had ridden 
 on. He was a wild man when I told him that the 
 rebels had taken Gib Macaterick. 
 
 "'Curse you and him both ! ' Douglas cried. ' Do 
 I command a set of porridge-stuffed, baggy knaves that 
 fall off their horses whenever they see a Whig tyke 
 skartin' for fleas ? I'll tan Gib's hide for him and 
 yours too, my man, when we come to the post. Ye 
 shall ride the timber horse with a bit musket at your 
 heels to learn yc how siccarly to sit your beasts'
 
 THE FIGHT AT THE CALDONS 327 
 
 "Whereat he cried to wheel, and v/e went twos 
 about down the Caldons road. The farm sits four 
 square on a knowe-tap, compact with ofHce-houses 
 and mailings. There are the little three-cornered 
 wickets in the walls. As we came to the foot of the 
 brae we found Gib Macaterick stelled up against the 
 dyke, with his hands bound and a paper in his teeth — a 
 printed copy of the Covenant. He was quite safe and 
 sound. But when we loosed him, he could do nothing 
 but curse and splutter. 
 
 " ' Thou foul-mouthed Whig,' cried Douglas, ' hast 
 thou also been taking the Covenant ? Have him out 
 and shoot him ! ' 
 
 "But Gib rose and made an end of the Covenant, 
 by setting his foot upon it and crushing it into the 
 sod. Then we moved forv/ard, carelessly, thinking 
 that the enemy would never stand against a troop, but 
 that they would at once scatter to the hill which rises 
 steep and black at the gavel end of the house. 
 
 " Hov/ever, when we came within sight of the stead- 
 ing, half a dozen muskets cracked, and one of our com- 
 pany cried out with the pain of being hit. Indeed, the 
 second volley tumbled more than one trooper from his 
 saddle, and caused their horses to break ranks and run 
 back, jingling accoutrements. 
 
 " So Colonel Douglas dismounted half his men, and 
 sent the better part of a troop, under the Cornet of 
 the same name, round to the high side of the farm to 
 take the Conventiclers in flank. Which v/ith all 
 success they did, and came down at the charge upon 
 the steadings, capturing half-a-dozen, mostly young 
 lads, that were there with muskets in their hands. 
 But there was one that threw himself into the lake and 
 swam under water for it. And though our soldiers
 
 328 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 shot ofFa power of powder after him, we could get no 
 satisfaction that he had been hit. We heard, however, 
 that he was a Carsphairn man, and that the name of 
 him was Roger Dunn. 
 
 " So Douglas ordered a dismountea file to lead the 
 young lads out into a dell a quarter of a mile from the 
 liouse, where the noise of the shootings would not 
 annoy him at his refreshment. So the Cornet took 
 them out, well-pleased. For it was a job that suited 
 him better than fighting, and there, in a little green 
 hollow, he speedily laid the six featly in a row. 
 
 " ' So perish all his Majesty's rebels ! ' said Colonel 
 Douglas as he rode past, bung full of brandy and good 
 mutton ham. 
 
 " ' That's as bonny a kill o' Whigs as we hae gotten 
 for mony a day. Rothes will be pleased with this day's 
 work ! ' said the Cornet. 
 
 " It was growing dark by the time that we drew up 
 from the loch, and it was ill getting a guide. No one of 
 us had ever been in the country, and there is no wilder 
 in all the south, as I have cause to know. But we had 
 not got to any conclusion, when one came running with 
 the news that he saw a light. So we spurred on as 
 briskly as we dared, not knowing but that we might 
 again hear the whistle of musket-balls about our ears. 
 
 " It was the little farm of Esconquhan, and only old 
 Sandy Gillespie and his wife were at home — the lads 
 no doubt being at the conventicle, or it may be among 
 those who had fought with us in the yard of the 
 Caldons, and now lay quiet enough down in the copse- 
 wood at the loch-foot. 
 
 " Sandy Gillespie of Esconquhan was a shrewd old 
 fox enough, and answered all Douglas's questions with 
 great apparent readiness.
 
 THE FIGHT AT THE CALDONS 329 
 
 "' Hae you a Bible ? ' asked the Colonel. 
 
 "'Ay,' said Sandy, 'but it's gye and stoury. 
 Reek it doon, guidwife ! I misdoot I dinna read it 
 as often as I should — aiblins like yoursel', Colonel.' 
 
 " Very biddably, the wife reached it down out of 
 the little black hole over the mantelshelf, and the 
 Colonel laughed. 
 
 "'It is indeed brave and dusty. Man, I see you 
 are no' a right Whig. I doubt that bit book disna get 
 hard wark ! ' 
 
 " Douglas's refreshment had made him more easy 
 to deal with. 
 
 " ' Nevertheless,' he continued, ' fettle on your blue 
 bonnet and put us on the road to Bongill, at the loch- 
 head. P'or there is a great Whigamore there of the 
 name of Macmillan, and he will no' get afF so easy. I 
 warrant his Bible is well-thumbed ! ' 
 
 " ' I canna rin wi' ye on siccan a nicht, and deed 
 the road's no' canny. But you red-coats fear neither 
 God nor deil ! ' said Sandy Gillespie readily. 
 
 '"Out on you, gangrel. Gin ye canna rin ye shall 
 ride. Pu' the auld wretch up ahint ye,' said Douglas, 
 ready to be angry as soon as he was crossed, like all 
 men in liquor. 
 
 " And so we went over the hillside very carefully — 
 such a road as beast was never set to gang on before. 
 
 " ' Keep doon the swearin' as muckle ye can,' or- 
 dered Sergeant Murphy. ' Lord, Lord, but this is 
 heart-breaking ! ' 
 
 "Sandv Gillespie, canny man, tried to dissuade him 
 from going to Bongill that night. Which only made 
 Douglas the more determined, thinking there was 
 something or somebody that he might light on there, 
 and so get great credit to himself.
 
 330 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 " Gin the road be as dour, crooked, and coarse as 
 the Cameronian's road to heaven, I'll gang that road 
 this night ! ' said Lag, who v/as pleased with the death 
 of the six Whigs at the Caldons — though, as it might 
 be, vexed that he had not been at the shooting himself. 
 
 '' We were no more than clear of the lochside path, 
 when Douglas bade old Sandy tune his pipes to help 
 the men along the easier road with a song. 
 
 « c ^ Whig's sang or a King's-man's sang ? ' asked 
 the auld tod blithely. 
 
 " ' Hoot, a Cavalier's song — what need hae we to 
 tak' the Book here ! ' cried Douglas loudly. 
 
 " ' More need than inclination ! ' said Claverhouse 
 scornfully, who was now riding beside them. 
 
 " Sandy Gillespie, who was an exceedingly far-seeing 
 old worthy, pretended that he was loth to sing, whereat 
 Douglas ordered him with an oath to sing upon peril 
 of his life. 
 
 " So the old man struck up in a high piping voice, 
 but none so ill in tune : 
 
 ' Our thistles flourished fresh and fair, 
 And bonny bloomed our roses. 
 But Whigs cam' like a frost in June, 
 And withered a' cor posies.' 
 
 " As he went on the old man's voice grew louder, 
 and in a little, half the command was cantily shouting 
 the song, which indeed goes very well to march to. 
 
 "'And there's Bongill,' cried Sandy, suddenly 
 stopping and dropping off his horse, 'an' guid e'en 
 to ye ! ' 
 
 " And with that the old fellow slid off among the 
 brushwood and copse, and we saw no more of him — 
 which perhaps was as well for him.
 
 THE FIGHT AT THE CALDONS v.i 
 
 "When we went into the Httle house of Bongill, 
 we found an open door both back and front. Peats 
 were blazing on the hearth. Great dishes of porridge 
 sat on a table. Chairs and stools were overturned, and 
 Bibles and Testaments lay everywhere. 
 
 " ' Curse the old dog. He has sung them a' to the 
 hill,' cried Douglas. ' Have him out and shoot him.* 
 
 "But Sandy was not to be seen. Only from the 
 hillside, a voice — the same that had sung, ' Awa, 
 Whigs, awa,' gave us ' Bonny Davie Leslie ' ; and 
 then cried in mockery three times * Good-night ! ' 
 
 "So the night being pit mirk and the hill unknown, 
 we took up our abode at Bongill till the morning. 
 Sitting in the hole of the peat stack we found a 
 strange object, a crazy natural, shapeless and ill-look- 
 ing. 
 
 "But some of the men who had seen his mother, 
 knew him for the idiot son of Corp-licht Kate, the 
 Informer, of the Shiel of the Star. Douglas questioned 
 him, for sometimes these naturals have much shrewd 
 wit. 
 
 " ' How came ye to be here ? ' 
 
 " ' Weel, ye see the way o't is this ' 
 
 " ' Make a short story of it, if ye dinna want a bit o' 
 lead through ye.' 
 
 " ' A blaw of tobacca wad fit Gash Gibbie better — 
 grand, man in the reid coatie ! ' said the natural, with 
 a show of cunning. 'I cam' to the Bongill i' the 
 gloamin', an' faith the mistress would hae gi'en me a 
 bed, but there was a horse in it already ! ' 
 
 "So being able to make nothing of him, Douglas 
 let him go back to his dry peat coom. 
 
 " The next morning was bright and bonny as the 
 others had been, for the autumn of this year was most
 
 332 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 favourable to our purpose — by the blessing o' the deil 
 as Lag used to say in his cups, so that the track along 
 the side of Curleywee to Loch Dee was dry as a bone. 
 When we came to the ford of the Cooran, we saw a 
 party coming down to meet us with prisoners riding 
 in the midst. There was an old man with his feet 
 tied together under the horse's belly. He swayed from 
 side to side so that two troopers had to help him, one 
 either side, to keep his seat. This they did, roughly 
 enough. The other prisoner was a young lass with a 
 still, sweet face, but with something commanding 
 about it also — saving your presence, sir. She was 
 indeed a picture, and my heart was wae for her when 
 some one cried out : 
 
 " Mardrochat has done it to richts this time. He 
 has gotten the auld tod o' the Duchrae, Anton Lennox, 
 and his bonny dochter at the same catch. Tkat will 
 be no less than a hundred reward, sterling money ! 
 
 " Whereat Douglas cursed, and said that a hundred 
 was too much for any renegade dog such as Cannon 
 of Mardrochat to handle, and that he could assuredly 
 dock him of the half of it. 
 
 " So that day we marched to New Galloway, and 
 the next to Minnyhive, on the road by the Enterkin 
 to Edinburgh." 
 
 This is the end of the Toskrie Tam's story as he 
 told it to me in the garden house of Afton.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII 
 
 THE GALLOWAY FLAIL 
 
 When Wat and I found the cave empty, immediately 
 we began to search the hill for traces of the lost ones. 
 For some time we searched in vain. But a little to 
 the right of the entrance of the cave the whole was 
 made plain to us. Here we found the bent and heather 
 trampled, and abundant stains of recent blood, as 
 though one had been slain there and the body carried 
 away. Also I found a silken snood, and the colour of 
 it was blue. It was not the hue, for that is worn by 
 most of the maids of Scotland ; but when I took it to 
 me, I knew as certainly as though I had seen it there, 
 that it had bound about the hair of Maisie Lennox. 
 Though when Wat asked of me (who, being a lover, 
 might have known better) how I knew it for hers, I 
 could not find words to tell him. But it is true that 
 all the same, know it I did. 
 
 So we followed down the trail, finding now a shred 
 of cleading and again the broken bits of a tobacco pipe 
 such as soldiers use, small and black, till in our search 
 we had rounded the hill that looks into the valley of 
 the Cooran. Here at the crossing of the burn, where 
 it was smallest, we found Anton Lennox's broad blue 
 bonnet. 
 
 It was enough. Soon we were scouring the hilltops 
 as fast as our legs could move under us. We travelled 
 southward, keeping ever a keen watch, and twice
 
 351 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 during the day we caught sight of troops of dragoons, 
 moving slowly over the heather and picking their way 
 among the hags, quartering the land for the sport of 
 man-catching as they went. Once they raised, as it 
 had been a poor maukin, a young lad that ran from 
 them. And we could see the soldiers running their 
 horses and firing oiF white plufFs of pov/der. It was a 
 long time ere the musket cracks came to us, which 
 must have sounded so near and terrible to the poor 
 fugitive. But they hit him not, and for that time at 
 least he wan ofF scot free. So presently we saw them 
 come back, jeered at by their comrades, like dogs that 
 have missed the quarry and slink home with their tails 
 between their legs. 
 
 But neither one of our poor captives was among 
 them. So we held fast and snell to the eastward, 
 passing along the skirts of the Millyea, and keeping to 
 the heights above the track which runs from the Glen- 
 kens to the Water of Cree. It was near to the infall 
 of the road from Loch Dee that we first gat sight of 
 those we sought. It was not a large company which 
 had them in charge, and they marched not at all 
 orderly. So that we judged it to be either one of the 
 Ainnandale levies of the Johnstone, or Lag's Dumfries 
 troop of renegades. 
 
 But as we came nearer, we marked quite clearly 
 that they had two prisoners, tall men, one with some 
 white thing about his head, and in the rear they had 
 six or seven other men, mostly on foot. Coming 
 nearer Vv^e could also see a figure as of a young maid 
 upon a horse. Then I knew that the dear lass I had 
 watched and warded so long, was surely at the mercy 
 of the rudest of the enemy. 
 
 Wc were thus scouring along the moor, keeping a
 
 THE GALLOWAY FLAIL 335 
 
 wary eye upon the troop and their poor prisoners, 
 when Wat's foot took the edge of a moss-hag where 
 the ground was soft. As it pressed the soil downward, 
 we heard a sudden cry, a wild, black-a-vised man sprang 
 up with a drawn sword in his hand, and pulling out a 
 pistol ran at us. We were so taken aback at the 
 assault that we could scarcely put ourselves upon the 
 defence. But ere the man came near, he saw that we 
 were dressed like men of the hills. He stopped and 
 looked at us, his weapons being still pointed our way. . 
 
 " Ye arc of the people ! " he said sternly. 
 
 " Ay," said we, for I think Clavers himself had 
 owned as much, being taken unawares and unable to 
 get at his weapons. 
 
 " I thought I saw ye at the General Meeting,*' he 
 said. 
 
 " We were there," we replied ; " we are two of the 
 Glenkens Gordons." 
 
 "And I am that unwoithy outcast James Mac- 
 Michael." 
 
 Then we knew that this was he who for the murder 
 of the curate of Carsphairn (a mightily foolish and ill- 
 set man), was expelled and excommunicated by the 
 United Societies. 
 
 " I will come vAth you for company," he said, 
 taking his bonnet out of the moss bank into which 
 Wat's foot had pressed it. 
 
 Now we wanted not his company. But because 
 w^e knew not (save in the matter of Peter Pearson) 
 what the manner of the man was, the time went past 
 in which we could have told him that his room was 
 more to us than his company. So most ungraciously, 
 we permitted him to come. Soon, however, wc saw 
 that he knew far more of heather-craft than we» Our
 
 336 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 skill in the hill-lore was to his but as the bairn's to 
 that of the regent of a college. 
 
 " The band that we see yonder is but the ofF-scour- 
 ings of half-a-dozen troops," said he, " and chance 
 riders that Cannon of Mardrochat has gathered. The 
 ill loon himself is not with them. He will be lying 
 watching about some dyke-bank. Ah, would that I 
 could get my musket on him ! " 
 
 So we hasted along the way, keeping to the hills in 
 order to reach the Clachan of St. John's town before 
 the soldiers. We went cautiously, Black MacMichael 
 leading, often running with his head as low as a dog, 
 and showing us the advantage of every cover as he 
 went. 
 
 Nor had we gone far when we had proof, if we 
 wanted such, of the desperate character of the man in 
 whose company by inadvertence we found ourselves. 
 We were passing through a little cleuch on the Holm 
 of Ken and making down to the waterside. Already we 
 could see the stream glancing like silver for clearness 
 beneath us. All of an instant we saw Black Mac- 
 Michael fall prostrate among the rocks at the side of 
 the cleuch. He lay motionless for a moment or two. 
 Then, without warning, he let his piece off with a 
 bang that waked all the birds in that silent place, 
 and went to our hearts also with a stound like pain. 
 For though Wat and I had both done men to death, 
 it had been in battle, or face to face when blade crosses 
 blade and eye meets eye, and our foes had at least an 
 equal chance with us. We had not been used to clapping 
 at a dyke back and taking sighting shots at our foes. 
 
 As soon as Black MacMichael had fired he lifted up 
 his hand, cried "Victory," and ran forward eagerly, 
 as one that fires at a mark at a wappenschaw may run
 
 THE GALLOWAY FLAIL 337 
 
 to see if he has hit the target. Yet Wat and I went 
 not down nor took part with him, but we held our 
 way with sore hearts for the wickedness of this man. - 
 
 Presently he came out and set after us. He cried 
 " Hoy " many times for us to wait for him, but we 
 tarried not. So he took to running, and, being 
 a powerful man and clever with his feet, he soon 
 overtook us. 
 
 " What is the push ? " he cried, panting. " I hit 
 the skulker that watched for us from behind a rock. 
 I keeled him over like a dog-fox on the hillside. See 
 what he had upon him ! " And he took from off his 
 shoulder a very remarkable piece of ordnance which I 
 shall presently describe. 
 
 " We want neither art nor part in your bloody deeds, 
 James MacMichael," I answered him. " Take your- 
 self away, till the Lord Himself shall judge you ! " 
 
 He stood still as one astonished. 
 
 " Gosh," he said, " siccan a fash aboot killing an 
 informer. I wad kill them a' like toads, for my son 
 John that they hanged upon the dule tree of Lag. I 
 would slav them root and branch — all the Griers of 
 the wicked name. O that it had been Mardrochat 
 himself. Then indeed it had been a fortunate shot. 
 But he shall not escape the Black MacMichael ! " 
 
 The murderer, for indeed I could not hold him 
 less, clapped his hand upon his breast and looked up 
 to heaven in a way that made me think him crazed. 
 
 " See here what I hae gotten afF him ? " he cried 
 again, like a child pleased with a toy. 
 
 It was the instrument known as the Galloway flail. 
 It had a five-foot handle of stout ash, worn smooth 
 like an axe haft with handling. Then the " soople," 
 or part of the flail that strikes the corn on the thresh-. 
 
 Y
 
 338 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 ing-floor, was made of three lengths of iron, jointed 
 too-ether with links of iron chain, so that in striking all 
 this metal part v/ould curl round an enemy and crush 
 his bones like those of a chicken. 
 
 "Stand ofF," I said, as he came nearer with the 
 Galloway flail in his hand ; "we want not to company 
 with you, neither to share in your iniquity." 
 
 " I daresay no," he said, frowning on us ; " but ye 
 will hae enough o' your ain. But I'll e'en follow on 
 for a' that. Ye may be braw an' glad o' the Mac- 
 Michael yet, considering the errand ye are on." 
 
 Nor had we gone far when his words proved true 
 enough. 
 
 We went down the cleuch, and were just coming 
 out upon the wider strath, when a party of Lag's men, 
 for whom no doubt the dead spy had been gathering 
 information, beset us. There were only half-a-dozen 
 of them, but had MacMichael not been at hand with 
 his terrible weapon, it had certainly gone hard with us, 
 if indeed we had not been slain or captured. With 
 a shout they set themselves at us with sword and pistol ; 
 but since only one of them was mounted, the odds 
 were not so great as at first they seemed. Wat was 
 ready with his blade as ever, and he had not made 
 three passes before he had his sword through his man's 
 shoulder. But it was otherwise with me. A hulking 
 fellow sprang on me with a roar like a wild beast, and 
 I gave myself up for lost. Yet I engaged him as I 
 best could, giving ground a little, yet ever keeping the 
 upper hand of him. But as we fought, what was our 
 astonishment to see MacMichael, whose company we 
 had rejected, whirl his iron flail above his head and 
 attack the mounted man, whose sword cracked as 
 though it had been made of pottery, and flew into a
 
 THE GALLOWAY FLAIL 339 
 
 hundred fragments, jingling to the ground Hke broken 
 glass. The next stroke fell ere the man on horseback 
 could draw a pistol. And we could hear in the midst 
 of our warding and striking the bones crack as the iron 
 links of the flail settled about his body. The next 
 moment the man on horseback pitched heavily forward 
 and fell to the ground. MacMichael turned with a 
 yell of victory, and rushed upon the others. One 
 stroke only he got as he passed at the dark, savage-like 
 man who was pressing me — a stroke which snapped 
 his sword arm like a pipe staple, so that he fell 
 writhing. 
 
 *' Stripe your sword through him ! I'll run and do 
 another ! " cried the Black MacMichael. 
 
 But the others did not stand to be done (small blame 
 to them), and soon all three were running what they 
 could over the level holms of the Ken. One caught 
 the riderless horse, running alongside till he could get 
 a chance to spring upon the back of it, and so galloped 
 back to the garrison at the Clachan of St. John. 
 
 MacMichael sat down, panting as with honest en«- 
 deavour. He wiped his brow with calm deliberation. 
 
 "An' troth," he said, " I think ye warna the waur o' 
 Black MacMichael an' Rob Grier's Gallowa' flail." 
 
 Yet there was not even thankfulness in our hearts, 
 for we found ourselves mixed yet more deeply in the 
 fray. Not that this broil sat on us like that other 
 business of the dead spy behind the heather bush. For 
 these men fell in fair fighting, which is the hap of any 
 man. But we saw clearly that we should also be 
 blamed as art and part in the killing of the spy, and 
 the thought was bitter gall to our hearts.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII 
 
 THE FIGHT IN THE GUT OF THE ENTERKIN 
 
 All the next two days we were gathering for the 
 rescue of Maisie and her father, finding, as we went 
 eastward, men whose hearts were hot within them 
 because of the oppression. But we found not place 
 nor opportunity till the third day. It was the night 
 of the second day that I stole down to the little village 
 of Carron Bridge, which stands by the brink of a 
 dashing, clean-running stream, where the troops were 
 encamped. There I managed to get speech of Maisie 
 Lennox. I clambered down one bank and up the 
 other. And because the houses stood over the brawling 
 of the stream, the soldiers on guard heard me not. I 
 went from window to window tiM, by the good hap 
 of love (and the blessing of God), I found the win- 
 dow of the room within which Maisie Lennox was 
 confined. 
 
 I cried to her through the dark, low and much 
 afraid. " Maisie May ! " I called as in old days at the 
 Duchrae, when I used to carry her on my back, and 
 she in sportiveness used to run and hide from me. 
 
 She was not asleep, for I heard her say plainly, like 
 one speaking from a bed : 
 
 " It is a dream — a sweet dream ! " But nevertheless 
 I knew that she sat up and listened. 
 
 " Maisie May ! " I said again at the window, very 
 softly.
 
 THE FIGHT IN THE ENTERKIN 341 
 
 I heard her move, and in a moment she came to the 
 lattice, and put her hand on the sill. 
 
 " Oh, William ! " she said, " is it indeed you and 
 not a dream ? " 
 
 " It is even William Gordon I " I said, sorry that I 
 could not do more than touch her fingers through the 
 thick bars of the guard-house. 
 
 " You must go aw^ay at once," she said ; " there are 
 three soldiers sleeping no further ofF than the door." 
 
 " We will rescue you to-morrow, Maisie," I said. 
 
 " And get yoursel's killed ! " she said. " Do not try 
 it, for my sake." 
 
 " Well, for your father's ! " I said. 
 
 And at that she said nothing. 
 
 Then she told me that the young officer in command 
 was a lad from one of the good families of the North, 
 and that he treated them civilly. But that, having 
 lost a prisoner on a former occasion, he might happen 
 to lose his life if he let slip so noble a taking ; which 
 made him careful of his prisoners with a great careful- 
 ness. As well it might; for the Privy Council was 
 not to be trifled with in those days. 
 
 There were nine of the prisoners altogether, in- 
 cluding the minister of a Nithside conventicle that 
 had been scattered that day. More I could not get 
 from her. For, one of the soldiers stirring without, 
 she prayed me so piteously to be gone, that I set off 
 crawling down among the stones, though I was eager 
 to hear how they had been taken at Cove Macaterick. 
 But that I had to put off to another diet of hearing, 
 as they say in the kirk. 
 
 On the morrovf we came upon the man that was 
 of all men the best fitted to give us aid in the matter 
 of rescue. This was James Harkness of Locharben,
 
 342 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 "James of the Long Gun," as he was called. He 
 had been a soldier, and was said to be the finest marks- 
 man in Scotland. Often had the King's party tried 
 to win him back again to the troop, but James kept to 
 the hills with his noted long gun ever at his back. 
 For many years he had as companion his brother 
 Thomas, called "Tam o' the Lang Hosen." But he 
 had been killed in battle, so that often, like a widowed 
 Jack heron, James Harkness stood at gaze on some 
 hilltop, leaning on his gun, and this was mostly his 
 place at conventicles or meetings of the Societies. 
 
 Being an old soldier, it fell to him now to choose the 
 place of the rescue and to command us in the manner 
 of it. It was in the deep and narrow defile of the 
 Enterkin that he posted us — a most wild and fearsome 
 place, where the hills draw very close together. One 
 of the places is called Stey Gail, and is so high that 
 the sheep grazing on it are like flies but half-way up, 
 as my plain-spoken friend Mr. Daniel de Foe well 
 remarked when he passed that way. On the other side 
 there rises still higher, and almost as steep, the top of 
 the Thirlstane Hill. There is one place at which the 
 water runs down the cleft of the hills, and the place 
 is perpendicular like a wall. It is so steep a place, as 
 Mr. Foe saw it, that if a sheep die it lies not still, but 
 falls from slope to slope, till it ends in the Enterkin 
 Water. 
 
 The path passes midways on the steepest and most 
 terrifying slope. Here, on the brow high above, we 
 laid our ambush, and piled great stones to roll on the 
 enemy if need were. 
 
 It was a dark, gloomy day, with black clouds driven 
 by the wmd, and scuffs of grey showers scudding 
 among the hilltops.
 
 THE FIGHT IN THE ENTERKIN 343 
 
 Presently lying couched amid the heather we saw 
 the dragoons come marching loosely two and two, 
 with their reins slack on their horses' necks. At the 
 entering in of the gorge we observed them fall to 
 single file, owing to the narrowing of the path. We 
 could see the minister riding first of the prisoners in 
 his black clothes. Then after a soldier came Anton 
 Lennox, sitting staid and sober on his horse, with a 
 countryman to lead the beast, a^d to watch that, by 
 reason of his wounds and weakness, he did not fall off'. 
 
 Then followed Maisie, riding daintily and sedately 
 as ever. Then came five or six other prisoners. Each 
 man of these was held by a rope round his neck, which 
 a trooper had attached to the pommel of his saddle. 
 And at this he took an occasional tug, according to 
 his desire, as other men might take a refreshment. 
 
 So these poor lads were being haled along to their 
 fate in Edinburgh. And for a certain long moment, 
 at least, I thought with more complacence on the 
 stark spy behind the dyke, to whose treachery they 
 owed their fate. But the next minute I was ashamed 
 of my thought. 
 
 As I looked over I saw the whole party strung out 
 along the steep and dangerous face of the precipice. 
 Then while they were thus painfully toiling with their 
 horses through the dangers of the way, James of the 
 Long Gun rose to his height out of the bent, and sent 
 his powerful voice down, as it had been out of the 
 clouds. For, as I said, it was misty and gloomy that 
 day — as indeed it is seldom otherwise there, and to see 
 the place well you must see it in gloom and in no 
 other way. 
 
 " Halt, yc sons of Belial ! " cried James of the Long 
 Gun.
 
 34+ THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 I could hardly help smiling, for he said it solemnly, 
 as though it had been his idea of a civil salutation or 
 the enunciation of an incontestable fact. 
 
 The young apple-faced officer answered, holding up 
 his hand to stay the calvacade behind him, and hearing 
 some one call from the mistv hill, but not catching the 
 word. 
 
 " Who may you be, and what do you want ? " 
 
 Then at the upward wave of James of the Long 
 Gun's hand, twelve of us stood up with our pieces at 
 the point. This startled young Apple-Face (yet I 
 would not call him that, for he was not uncivil to 
 Maisic). For he thought of the Council's word to 
 him, for he well knew that it would be kept, and that 
 his life would stand for the prisoners'. So when he saw 
 twelve armed men rise from the steep side of the 
 Nether Pot, and more looking over the brow of the 
 Crawstane Snout, he was shaken very greatly in his 
 nerves, being young and naturally much in fear of his 
 neck. 
 
 Then another officer, whom we afterwards knew as 
 Sergeant Kelt (he has wrongly been called Captain, 
 but no matter), took up the word and bade us to stand, 
 for rebel loons. 
 
 But it was Long Gun that cried out to him : 
 
 " Stand yourself, Kelt. It is you that must do the 
 standing, lest we send you to your own place at the 
 bottom of the ravine, and with a dozrti shot in you. 
 Will you deliver your prisoners ? " 
 
 " No, sir," cried Kelt, " that we will not, though 
 we were to be damned ! " 
 
 It was a soldier's answer, and I think none of us 
 thought the worse of him for the expression he had 
 at the close.
 
 THE FIGHT IN THE ENTERKIN 345 
 
 For indeed it was a hard case for all of them. 
 
 At which, quick as the echo of his oath, there 
 rose one from the heather at our back and fired a 
 musket at him. It was Black MacMichael. 
 
 " Damned ye shall be, and that quick ! Tak' that," 
 he cried, "an' learn no' to swear !" 
 
 And he fired his pistol also at the soldier. 
 
 Sergeant Kelt threw up his arms, shot through 
 the head. His horse also fell from rock to rock, and 
 among a great whammel of stones, reached the bottom 
 of the defile as soon as its master. 
 
 Then every man of the twelve of us had our pieces 
 to our eyes, and each had picked his quarry, when the 
 young officer held up his hand and desired a parley. 
 
 Indeed, the whole command was in great jeopardy, 
 and so strung out like onions on a cord, that no man 
 could either fight well himself or yet draw in to support 
 his party. We had them completely at our mercy, 
 there in the Gut of the Enterkin. 
 
 At this moment their fore-goer cried back to them, 
 from the knoll whence he had gone to scout, that 
 there appeared another band of armed countrymen on 
 the top of the hill to their front. They were, indeed, 
 but some merchant travellers who, seeing the military 
 stopping the way, stood modestly aside to let them 
 pass. But they did us as much good as they had been 
 a battalion of the Seven Thousand. 
 
 At this the officer was even more afraid, though I 
 think, like a good soldier lad, more for his command 
 than even for his own credit and life. 
 
 " Stand ! " he cried. " A parley ! What would ye 
 have ? " 
 
 So James of the Long Gun called out to him : 
 
 " We would have our minister."
 
 346 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 For so they thought of ministers in those days. But 
 I would have cried for certain others before him — being, 
 as it were, a man prepared and ready to go. However, 
 I tell it as James Harkness said it. 
 
 " Ye shall have your minister," said the officer. 
 
 " And the lass," cried I, striking in, for which 
 James did not thank me. 
 
 " And the lass ! " the officer repeated, moving a 
 little at hearing a new voice. 
 
 " And her father and the other prisoners," I added. 
 
 The officer hung a little on his words. 
 
 " Do you want them all ? Must ye have them ? " 
 
 " Aye, all — or we will take the lives of every one of 
 you ! " 
 
 " Then," said the officer, " my life is forfeit to the 
 Council. Another shall surrender the prisoners and 
 not I." 
 
 And with that he pulled a pistol from his holster 
 and snapped it at his own head. Nevertheless it went 
 not off, the lock being out of order, belike, or the poor 
 lad's hand unsteady. 
 
 He was reaching down with his other hand to pull 
 another pistol from the opposite holster, but ere he could 
 draw it, the voice of the Covenanter, Anton Lennox, 
 spoke, gravely and nobly, so as to be heard by all of us: 
 
 " Young man, face not in your own blood an angry 
 God ! Leap not thus quick to hell ! Abide — and I, 
 Anton Lennox, vow that I will not see you wronged. 
 I am but an old and a dying man. My wounds can 
 hardly let mc live. What is my life any more ? It 
 is even at your service. I will go with you to the 
 Council ! " 
 
 And at the word he looked up to the dark heaven, 
 the sunshine wafting after the shower caught his head.
 
 THE FIGHT IN THE ENTERKIN 347 
 
 and lo ! there was a kind of glory about it, as of one 
 that sees mysteries unveiled. 
 
 Then we cried out to him to come with us, but he 
 denied. And Maisie, his daughter, fleeched and be- 
 sought him, but he would not even for her tears. 
 
 "Go thou, my lassie," he said, "for I am spent. 
 When I set my sword to the hilt in the breast of 
 Mardrochat, of a surety I also gat my dead stroke. 
 Now I am no better than a dead man myself; and 
 perhaps if I give my life for the life of this heathen 
 man, the Lord will not see the blood of the slain on 
 my hands." 
 
 It happens not often while men are yet in the 
 struggle, that they seem to live to the height of their 
 profession. But as Anton Lennox made his renuncia- 
 tion he was lifted, as it were, to the seventh heaven, 
 and we common men gazed silently at him, expecting- 
 to see him vanish out of our sight. 
 
 Then he gave the orders as one with authority 
 among the soldiers, even the officer not taking the 
 words from his mouth. 
 
 " Loose the minister ana let him step up the hill I " 
 
 And they did it. And so with the other prisoners 
 till it came to his daughter, Maisie Lennox. 
 
 Then Anton, being sore wounded, bent painfully 
 from his horse, and laid his hands on her shoulders. 
 
 " My lassie," he said, " daughter of the Covenant 
 and of mine old age, do not weep or cry for me. Yea, 
 though I dwell now by the waters of Ulais, whose 
 name is sorrow, and drink of the springs of a Marah 
 that cannot be made sweet, I am the Lord's man. He 
 hath chosen me. My Master gave Himself for a thief. 
 I, a sinner above most men, am willing to give myself 
 for this persecutor that he may have time to repent."
 
 3+3 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 And Alaisie bent herself pitifully upon his hand, but 
 she gave forth no voice or tear, and her little hands 
 were still bound before her. 
 
 " Daughter of the Covenant," her father said again, 
 "thou dost well. Kiss me once, ere, with all my 
 garments red I come up from Bozrah, going to the 
 sacrifice as a bridegroom goeth to his chamber. If 
 it please the Lord, in the Grassmarket, which is red 
 already with the blood of the saints, I shall witness a 
 good confession and win worthily ofF the stage. It 
 has been my constant prayer for years." 
 
 So without further word the troop filed away. 
 And Anton Lennox, Covenanter and brave man, sat his 
 horse like a general that enters a conquered city, not 
 so much as looking behind him to where, by the side 
 of the path, Maisie Lennox stood, bareheaded, her 
 hands yet bound, for none had remembered to loose 
 them. No tear was upon her pale face, and as each 
 rude soldier man came by her, he salute-d as rever- 
 ently as though she had been King Charles Stuart 
 himself. 
 
 And wc, that were twelve men, stood at gaze on 
 the hill above, silent and afraid. There was no word 
 in our mouth and no prayer in our heart. We stood 
 as though the place had been the Place of a Skull — the 
 place wherein there is a garden, and in the garden a 
 new tomb.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 THE DEATH OF MARDROCHAT 
 
 Now we knew that this affair would of a surety cause 
 a great disturbance, and that the neighbourhood would 
 be searched as a herd searches a hill for sheep. So 
 with all haste we came back to Galloway, and though 
 we could not return to the cave on the Star Hill, we 
 continued due west that we might see how my mother 
 and Kate McGhie were bestowed all this time, at the 
 little house of Tonskeen in the howe of the hills. 
 
 Maisie was wondrous quiet. She had hardly uttered 
 a word ever since we watched her father out of sight, 
 sitting erect like a warrior upon his horse. It was 
 indeed not a time for complaints. Women had to take 
 sorrows as they came, as I was reminded of in an old 
 letter which Jean of the Shirmers, my kind entertainer 
 of the Garpel, had once written to Jean Hamilton 
 upon Sandy's first taking. How I came by it I forget, 
 if, indeed, I ever clearly knew. But at all events here 
 it is: "You are not the first" (so the letter ran) 
 " that hath had dear and tender husbands prisoners for 
 Christ. Yea, blessed be God, not the first of the 
 many hundreds that have lost them as to the world 
 in Scotland in our day. Suppose that should happen 
 which you cannot tell. Suppose that it should come 
 even to that, we pray you, Jean Hamilton, tell us in 
 whose hands the keys of the prison are. We rather 
 desire to believe in your free resignation of all thac
 
 350 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 was yours, especially of all that you love greatly. Will 
 you dare to seek it back from Him now, as if He could 
 not guide and keep and manage what you have com- 
 mitted to Him? Far be from you this, or the like of 
 this. Bless God that you have had a husband, if it 
 were only to propine Him with." 
 
 Was there ever such consolation sent in any nation 
 to the wife of a man condemned to torture and to 
 death ? Yet this and no other is the nature of our 
 Scots Barnabas when he goes a-comfortmg. Like the 
 three that came to Job of old, they ever tell you that 
 you must take all the ill that comes to you thankfully, 
 and at the back of it expect yet more and worse. 
 
 This is indeed more than enough about Jean 
 Hamilton's letter. But it appeared to me so like our 
 nation and our Cameronian folk, that 1 put it away in 
 my case of despatches. 
 
 I did not trouble Maisie as we went with questions, 
 knowing full well that when she felt the need of speech, 
 she would come and tell me of her own accord. Till 
 then, I was content to be silent, though I yearned to 
 know the truth of the taking of the cave and all her 
 adventure. 
 
 It was about the gloaming of the third day of our 
 retreat, and we had come to the little house of the 
 Nether Crae, where we were to bide. Maisie Lennox 
 was within doors, and, as was usual, we men folk hid 
 behind the mow. The Nether Crae is a pleasant spot, 
 but it looks down on the Duchrae. And from the 
 door one can see the green fields and broomy knowes 
 where Maisie and 1 had played so long. But now the 
 soldiers had turned the steading out, the barn and byre 
 were burned, and the stock driven away. 
 
 So, unable to bear the desolation, Maisie and I sat
 
 THE DEATH OF MARDROCHAT 551 
 
 out on the fair green playing-croft that looks up to 
 the hillside, and gazed sadly away from one another, 
 saying notliing. It began to be dark. I waited for 
 her. 
 
 Suddenly she laid her head on my shoulder and 
 began to sob very bitterly. 
 
 "My faither ! O my fafther !" she said, labouring 
 with her breath. 
 
 I said not a word, but only gently clapped and 
 stroked her hand and arm. For indeed I knew not 
 what to say and the hand was near me. 
 
 " He saved me — he took me," she cried. " Then 
 he gied himsel' for another." 
 
 I thought she meant for the soldier laddie, but still 
 I said nothing, soothing her only. 
 
 It was coming now. I saw that she v/anted to tell 
 me all. So I said nothing. 
 
 " It was in the gloaming, as it is now," she began, 
 " and my sweet lass, Margaret Wilson and I, had gone 
 ower by to Tonskeen for some victual that the kind guid- 
 wife hid every day in a hollow of the turf-dyke for us. 
 And as we came over the hilltop we heard the baying 
 of hounds. But we thought that it would be but the 
 herd's dogs at a collie-shangic, tearing at one another. 
 So we came down the hill, stepping lightly as we could 
 with our load, when of a sudden there leapt on us 
 three evil men. Two of them took hold of me by the 
 arms, and one gripped at Margaret. 
 
 " ' Now take us to your faither, my bonny woman, 
 or it will be the waur for ye ! ' said the greatest in 
 stature, a black-a-vised, ill-natured rascal. 
 
 "But I was so astonished that I knew not what to 
 say. The three were manifestly no soldiers — that I 
 could see at once — but just the scourings of the
 
 352 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Dumfries stables, that had taken to the informer's 
 trade. 
 
 " Then when we came near, we saw that a great 
 number of the crew had dogs, and were drawing the 
 rocks for my father, as though they had been drawing 
 a badger. And my heart leapt with anger to know 
 that he was their quarry." 
 
 But the mouth of the cave was too high among 
 the rocks for even a dog to get into at that time. 
 
 Indeed, there is something about it, whether the 
 smell of the occupancy of man or not, that makes 
 dogs not keen to enter it even now. 
 
 And this was the matter of Maisie's tale. I give it 
 simply as she told it to me, without "he-saids" or 
 " she-saids." 
 
 She was sitting close by my side the while, now 
 stilling her sobs that she might tell it exactly, and anon 
 weeping freely upon my shoulder that her heart might 
 have ease. 
 
 " When they had brought us by force to the face 
 of rock and copse where, as you know, the cave is," 
 Maisie went on, " they asked us again and again to 
 take them to the Whigs' hiding-place. When we 
 refused they uttered the most horrid threatenings, 
 swearing what things should befall us. But they were 
 not able at all to shake us, though we were but two 
 maids and at their cruel will. And of themselves they 
 were not able to find the mouth of the cave in that 
 mile of tangled gairy face. 
 
 " So the cruellest and fiercest of all, the stark, black- 
 a-vised man whom they called Mardrochat, the same 
 that stopped us by the ford when first we fled from 
 Balmaghie " 
 
 "O cursed Mardrochat," I cried, striking my hands
 
 THE DEATH OF MARDROCHAT 353 
 
 together, " wait till I come to a settlement with 
 you ! » 
 
 "Nay," said Maisie, solemnly, "all is settled and 
 paid already with Mardrochat. So they threatened 
 till they were weary, and the night was coming 
 on. Then Mardrochat turned about to his gallows 
 thieves : 
 
 " ' Must we go back empty-handed ? Let me try 
 my way with the lassies,' he cried. ' They shall be 
 complaisant to tell where the old fox lies, or else suffer 
 that which shall serve us as well.' 
 
 "With that he came near and put his hand upon 
 me in the way to hurt me. Nothwithstanding, with 
 all the might that was in me, I strove to keep from 
 crying out, lest my father should hear, which was what 
 they counted on. But as God is my witness, I could 
 not. Then, the fear being upon me and the pain 
 of a woman, I cried out in my agony, as I had 
 never before done in this world." 
 
 " O thrice accursed Mardrochat, die not till I meet 
 thee," I cried again, beating and bruising my naked 
 hand upon a rock in the impotence of hate. 
 
 Maisie went quietly and evenly on with her tale, 
 without heeding my anger. 
 
 "But when I cried the third time in my extremity, 
 even like a lion out of the thicket came my father 
 forth, springing upon them suddenly with his bright 
 sword in the gloaming. Never was there such striking 
 since the world began. He struck and struck, panting 
 and resting not, roaring in fierce anger, till they fairly 
 fled from before the face of him. And the first he 
 struck was Mardrochat — he that then held me, and 
 the blood spurted over me. Thus it was," she went 
 on calmly, as though she had been telling of the kye 
 
 z
 
 354 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 coming home at e'en, " my father clave him to the 
 teeth, and he fell forward on that which had been his 
 face. Then plucking his sword to him again, my 
 father swung it hither and thither like lightning, and 
 pursued them over the moor as a flock of sheep is 
 hunted on the hill. And he smote and slew them as he 
 ran. My father, Anthony Lennox, did all that alone. 
 But, alas ! in the valley, though we knew it not, there 
 was a troop of horse encamped about a fire, the same 
 whom he of the Lons; Gun, halted and took us from in 
 the midst of Enterkin. Now my father, running and 
 smiting blindly, tripped over a halter and fell headlong 
 in the heart of them. Thus they took Anton Lennox, 
 who had never been taken before. They took us 
 two maids also ; but the dragoons being officered by 
 gentlemen, there was no more ill-usage. Now, though 
 he had killed the informers and spies, the soldiers liked 
 my father none the less for that, despising those who 
 were employed on such service. Rather they gave 
 my father honour and not dishonour, as one that was 
 mighty at their own trade. And to me the babe-faced 
 officer was both kind and courteous." 
 
 After this she was silent quite a while, sitting by me 
 on the mossy seat by the old playing-green of the 
 Nether Crae, and looking up as one that dreams, to 
 the heather on the hillside. 
 
 " Is it not a noble thing," she said musingly, " to 
 have a father that will render up his life for you as if 
 it were a little thing ? " 
 
 Now I thought within myself that he need not 
 have given it also for a peony-faced officer boy. But I 
 uttered not the word aloud, lest I should be shamed.
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE THIEVES' HOLE 
 
 So on the morrow, early in the morning, we fared 
 on into the hills ; and when we came to Tonskeen in 
 the wilds, we found my mother and Kate there. 
 They were both well in health and glad to greet us, 
 though my mother was doleful because of the news of 
 Sandy's taking, which had just been brought to her. Yet 
 all of us did our best endeavours to be cheerful, as was 
 the custom in Galloway at that time, when there was 
 hardly a family that had not some cause of mourning 
 and sorrow. Though I do think that there was not 
 one so deep in the mire as our unfortunate house of 
 Earlstoun. 
 
 At Tonskeen also we found Thomas Wilson, 
 brother of our sweet little Margaret. He brought us 
 sad news of her. She had been separated from Maisie 
 and her father after the capture, and taken to Wigtown 
 instead of accompanying them toward Edinburgh. 
 
 The lad told us that his sister was now confined in 
 the Thieves' Hole at Wigtown. He told us of her 
 sham trial, and, spite of our sore hearts, he almost made 
 us laugh with his account of the indictment which 
 Winram and Coltran — in their cups, as I presume — 
 had laid against her. Along with our Margaret had 
 been tried her little sister of thirteen named Agnes. 
 Both these young things had been most barbarously 
 treated by the noble judges of Wigtown — Sheriff
 
 356 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Davie Graham, Lag, Strachan, and Winram. Worst 
 of all was David Graham, for having his hands upon 
 the lines, he desired above all to amerce Gilbert Wilson, 
 the tenant of Glenvernock in the parish of Pcning- 
 hame. Gilbert was a man well to do, keeping a good 
 stock both of nolt and sheep upon a large ground, and 
 so the more apt to be fined. He was a quiet, thewless, 
 pleasantly conforming man, that was willing to let his 
 hearing of the curates keep his head. But he could 
 not help his children, as alas ! who can ? For years 
 he was harassed with having to go to Wigtown every 
 court day. He was near eaten out of house and home 
 with having soldiers constantly quartered upon him. 
 And all because his children had chosen to endure 
 hardship cheerfully for the good cause, and to serve 
 under the blue banner that has the cross upon it — at 
 least so far as young bairns may. So from a child 
 Margaret Wilson had companied with those that spoke 
 and loved the truth. She had spent much of her time, 
 ever since she was a lassie of ten, with my sober Maisie 
 Lennox at the Duchrae. And afterwards, when she 
 grew to be of age when lassies think of the lads, 
 Margaret, for the sake of her faith and for nought else, 
 lived on the wild mountains, in the bogs and caves of 
 the hillsides. 
 
 To me Margaret Wilson ever seemed the stillest of 
 quiet maids ; but, as our Maisie used to say, she was 
 terribly set in her opinions when once she had taken her 
 stand. Now at eighteen she was grown to a tall maid, 
 with a great blowing mass of lint-white hair that shone 
 like gold with the sun on it. Well might she have 
 been spared to be some man's delight, had she not 
 been (as she said when the lads speered her) trysted to 
 another lot. The first party of soldiers to whom she
 
 BREAKING OF THE THIEVES' HOLE 357 
 
 was delivered, pitying her youth, let her go to her own 
 home from the crossin* of the water at Cree. But 
 by misadventure she travelled on to the town of 
 Wigtown — v/here, with the little lass Agnes in her 
 hand, she was resting in a friend's house, when 
 drunken Winram, ever keen of scent for an ill- 
 conditioned deed, got track of her being in the town. 
 He sent soldiers to take her on the spot, together with 
 her sister of thirteen years, and bade thrust them into 
 the Thieves' Hole that was in the Tolbooth of 
 Wigtown, where they put only the most notorious 
 malefactors. 
 
 All this and more Thomas Wilson told us — how 
 that his sisters and an aged woman were confined there 
 and guarded by most brotal soldiers — yea, had already 
 been doomed to be drowned within the tide-mark in a 
 very short space of time — though the day of their 
 death as yet he knew not. 
 
 Whereat our brave Maisie Lennox was eager to go 
 down to Wigtown and try for a rescue, if we could 
 raise those that would help us. But we could not 
 suffer her to go, though most ready to adventure our- 
 selves. The good folk of Tonskeen were very willing 
 to let my mother and the maids abide with them ; 
 for since the taking of Anton Lennox no soldiers had 
 been seen in the district. And the slaying of wicked 
 Mardrochat had feared the ill-set informing people 
 greatly, so that for a long season there was no more 
 of that. 
 
 It seemed strange, yet so it was, that Maisie Lennox, 
 who had seen her father pass, as it were, to his death 
 without a tear, wept constantly for her friend and 
 gossip, Margaret of Glenvernock. 
 
 " They cannot condemn Margaret. They will not
 
 358 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 condemn little Margaret ! " she said over and over, as 
 women use. 
 
 " Ay, but condemned her they have ! " said her 
 brother Thomas, " for they libel it against her and 
 Ao-nes that they were guilty of rebellion at Bothwell 
 Brig and Ayrsmoss " 
 
 " 'Tis plainly impossible," I said ; " the judges 
 cannot mean aught to their hurt. Why, at Bothwell, 
 Margaret was but twelve, and little Agnes a paidhng 
 bairn of seven years. And as for Ayrsmoss, the poor 
 bairns were never within twenty miles of the place in 
 their lives." 
 
 But Thomas Wilson, a quiet, plainfaced lad, only 
 mistrustfully shook his head. 
 
 " It is even true," he said, " they mean to make 
 them suffer if they can. But we will hae a thraw at 
 it, to see if we canna break through the Thieves' Hole 
 and draw the lassies forth." 
 
 So it was set for the following night, that we should 
 
 make the attempt to break the Thieves' Hole. The 
 
 morrow when it came, proved to be a clear day and 
 
 fine overhead, which augured not well for our attempt. 
 
 We would rather have had the blackest and wildest 
 
 nio-ht for our venture. But we had little time, and so 
 
 we set off to travel by the road the weary miles to 
 
 Wio-town. We hid all the afternoon in a wood at 
 
 Machermore, and laid our plans. It was about eleven 
 
 of the clock that we went down into Wigtown, with 
 
 the breaking tools which Thomas had gotten from his 
 
 father's farm, as we passed down through Peninghame. 
 
 At the door of the little hostelry in the town we heard 
 
 a great rioting and crying, which was, as we understood, 
 
 the soldiers of Winram and scunc of Strachan's officers 
 
 drinking late with the Wigtown lawyers, as was their
 
 BREAKING OF THE THIEVES' HOLE 359 
 
 custom. A big, important-looking man went by us, 
 swaying a little unsteadily. He made a great work 
 with his elbows as he went, working them backward 
 and forward at his sides as though he was oaring a 
 boat. This, Thomas Wilson whispered, was Provost 
 Coltran, going home to his town house, after he and 
 David Graham had had their nightcap together. 
 Very evidently the Provost was carrying his full load. 
 For in the midst of the ill-kept square of Wigtown, 
 where certain tall trees grow, he paused and looked 
 upward among the leaves to where the crows were 
 chattering late among their younglings. 
 
 " Crawin' and splartin' deils," he said, shaking one 
 fist up at them, and holding to a tree with the other. 
 "I'll hae ye brocht afore the Toon Cooncil and lined 
 — aye, an' a' your goods and gear shall be escheat to 
 the Crown. Blood me gin I dinna, or my name is no 
 Provost Cowtran ! David Graham will be glad to 
 hear o' this ! " 
 
 So saying, he staggered away homeward, there to 
 underlie the ill tongue of his wife for coming home in 
 such a condition — albeit not much worse than was 
 usual with him. 
 
 About the Tolbooth it was very quiet, and all was 
 still also in Las's lodg-ino-, whose windows looked 
 down upon it. We got close to the window of the 
 Hole, and crouched to wait for the deepest darkening 
 behind some low ill-smelling sheds, in which pigs were 
 grunting and snoring. 
 
 But even at this time of year it is very light at night, 
 and especially in such a place as Wigtown — which sits 
 not among the hills, but as it were on a knowe under 
 a wide arch of sky, making it little and lonely under 
 all that vastness.
 
 36o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Thomas Wilson was to gather a few trusty lads 
 (for there were still such about the place), who should 
 attempt to burn down the door of the Hole. While 
 Wat and I with our crowbars or gellecks, our mallets 
 and chisels, were to try our best with the window. 
 What galled us most was the light in the west, which 
 remained strangely lucid and even, as though the sky 
 itself were shining clear in the midst of the night — a 
 thing which I had never seen in my own hill-lands, but 
 often upon the flats of Wigtown. 
 
 Our hearts were beating, I warrant, when we stole 
 out to make our attempt. This we did at eleven by 
 the town clock, and there was no better or more kindly 
 darkness to be looked for. It was silent in the Square of 
 Wigtown, save for the crows that Provost Coltran 
 had shaken his fist at. As we stole to the window, 
 which indeed was no more than a hole wide enough, 
 the bars being removed, to allow a man's body to pass 
 through, we heard the praying of the prisoners within. 
 It was the voice of our little Margaret Wilson. When 
 last I heard that voice, it was in sweet and womanly 
 converse with Maisie Lennox, concerning the light 
 matters of which women love to speak, but are imme- 
 diately silent about when a man comes by — aye, even 
 if that man be their nearest. For this is the nature of 
 woman. 
 
 At the first rasp of the chisel, there was silence 
 within, for the prisoners knew well that only friends 
 would try to enter in that way. We could hear the 
 lads piling faggots at the outer door, as had been done 
 once before with great success, when the bars were 
 burnt through within half-an-hour. But, since the fire 
 would assuredly bring the soldiers, it was put off till 
 we had made our attempt upon the window.
 
 BREAKING OF THE THIEVES' HOLE 361 
 
 Wat was stroii2;er than I when it came to the 
 forcing aside of the bars, and he it was that set his 
 strength to mine, and with the long iron impelled out 
 of its binding mortar the great central bar. Then 
 after we had broken the lesser one above and below 
 with much less stress, the window lay open. It 
 seemed a practical enough breach. It came my time 
 to mount and enter to see if I could help the women 
 out, an enterprise which needed much caution. 
 
 Wat had scaled the roof to see if there was aught 
 there that might be advantageous. I was up and 
 scrambling with my toes against the rough wall, half 
 of my body within, when I heard a scuffle and a sudden 
 cry of warning from the other side of the tower. I 
 heard Wat leap down with a shout, and I would have 
 followed, but I received a mighty push which sent me 
 headlong through the prison window into the Thieves' 
 Hole. Here I sat, very astonished and dazed, with 
 mv head having taken the wall, till the door was 
 opened and a figure, booted and spurred, cloaked also 
 from head to heel, came in, and with a lantern-bearer 
 behind him, stood looking at us. The two young 
 lassies, Margaret and Agnes, sat in a corner clasping 
 one another's hands, and a very old woman sat near 
 me with her head clasped in her hands. She never 
 looked up so long as I saw her, and seemed to have 
 quite lost both interest and hope. 
 
 I knew that the big man with the cloak was the 
 Laird of Lag, for once with my father I had seen him 
 on the street at Kirkcudbright, when he spoke us fairly 
 enough — the matter one of cattle and crops belike. 
 
 " Whom have we here," he said, " coming so late 
 by the window to see the lassies ? Young Whiggie, 
 this is not proper wark ; but who may you be ? "
 
 362 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 I sat and said nothing. 
 
 "Stell him up," he said, "and let us see what like 
 this breaker of maidens' chambers may be." 
 
 But I stood up of my own accord, with my hand 
 on the prison wall. 
 
 Then he appeared to recognise me, for he said 
 
 sourly : 
 
 " Ye'll be an Earlstoun Gordon, nae doot — ye 
 favour the breed — though there's mair of the lawyer 
 Hope nor the fechtin' Gordon aboot you. I hadna 
 thocht ye had as muckle spunk." 
 
 Then he ordered two soldiers to stand guard over the 
 hole on the outside, and, setting a double guard on the 
 Tolbooth, he cried, " Have young Gordon forth to my 
 quarters." Which when they did, he entertained himself 
 for several hours telling me how he would send me 
 with the utmost care to Edinburgh, and of the newly 
 imported tortures that would be inflicted on Sandy 
 and myself. He said that Sandy was to be tortured 
 and that he had seen the precept from London with 
 the order. 
 
 "So ye'll juist be in time to try on the new ' boot.* 
 There's a fine braw new-fangled pattern wi' spikes, 
 and I hear that the new thumbikins are excellently 
 persuasive. Faith, they hae widened many a Whig's 
 thrapple already, and made it braw and wide in the 
 swallow ! " 
 
 Then, adding all the time cup to cup, he fell to 
 cursing me and all our house, not letting even my 
 mother alone, till I said to him : 
 
 , " John Graham had not treated a prisoner so. Nor 
 you, Robert Grierson, if you thought that my kins- 
 man Kenmure was at hand to strike his sword 
 through your bod)'^ — as once he came near doing in
 
 BREAKING OF THE THIEVES' HOLE 363 
 
 the street of Kirkcudbright in the matter of Bell of 
 Whiteside ! " 
 
 Now this (as I knew) was a saying which angered 
 him exceedingly, and he was for having out a file of 
 soldiers and shooting me there and then. But luckily 
 Winram came in to say that the other assailants of 
 the Tolbooth had gotten cleanly off, and that a soldier 
 was invalided with a sword-thrust through and through 
 his shoulder, in which very clearly I recognised Wat's 
 handicraft.
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 
 THE SANDS OF WIGTOWN 
 
 The morning of the eleventh of May came as calm 
 and sweet as the night had been, which had proved so 
 disastrously clear for us. I slept little, as men may 
 guess, thinking on the poor lassies ; and sometimes 
 also on the torture in the prison, and the death on the 
 scaffold. For I knew that though their might be 
 delay, there could be no such thing as pardon for one 
 that had carried the standard at Sanquhar, charged 
 the storming fray of Ayrsmoss, and sole of all in 
 Cameron's muster had gotten clear away. 
 
 From early morning I could hear on the street the 
 gathering of the folk from the countryside far and 
 near. And then the soldiers came clattering by to 
 their stations, laughing as they went like people going 
 to look upon a show. 
 
 " There are but two of them to be * pitten doon,* 
 after all," I heard one of the soldiers say. " Gilbert 
 Wilson has paid a hundred pound to get off his bit 
 lassie Agnes." 
 
 And that was the first intimation I had that only 
 the elder woman, Margaret Lauchlison, whom I had 
 seen in the Thieves' Hole with her head on her hands, 
 and our own sweet Margaret were to be drowned 
 within the floodmark of the Blednoch. 
 
 Black, black day ! Would that I could blot it out 
 of my memory. Yet that men in after times may see
 
 THE SANDS OF WIGTOWN 365 
 
 what week maids and ailing women bore with con- 
 stancy in the dark years, I set down that day's doings 
 as I saw them — but briefly, neither altering nor sup- 
 pressing, because of this matter I cannot bear to write 
 at large. It was but half an hour before the binding 
 of the women that Lag sent for me — in order that I 
 might see the thing which was done, and, as he said, 
 carry the word to Sandy and the rest of the saints at 
 Edinburgh. 
 
 And this, as I told him, with all constancy I should 
 be very fond to do. 
 
 Now the Blednoch is a slow stream, which ordinarily 
 flows in the deep ditch of its channel, wimpling and 
 twining through the sands of the bay of Wigtown. 
 The banks are but steep slopes of mud, on which if 
 one slips he goes to the bottom with a slide. Up this 
 deep channel the sea comes twice every day, damming 
 back the sluggish stream and brimming the banks at 
 full tide. When Lag's men took me down to the 
 water edge, I saw the two women already tied to stakes 
 set in the ooze of the Blednoch bank. At the sight 
 my heart swelled within me at once sick and hot. 
 Margaret LauchUson was tethered deepest down, her 
 stake set firm in the bottom and the post rising as high 
 as her head. 
 
 Nigh half-way up the steep bank stood our little 
 Margaret, loosely reeved to a sunken stob, her hands 
 clasped before her. She still wore the gown that I re- 
 member seeing upon her when she dwelt with us among 
 the hills. But even in this pass s^e was cheerful, and 
 lifting her eyes with a smile she bade me be so like- 
 wise, because that for her there was no fear and but a 
 short pain. Also she called me very sweetly " William," 
 and asked me to commend her to Maisie Lennox — a
 
 366 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 thing which more than all went to my heart. For it told 
 me by the way she said it, that Maisie and she had talked 
 together of loves and likings, as is all maidens' wont. 
 The women were not tightly tied to the posts, but 
 r.ttached to them with a running rove of rope, by 
 which they could be pulled close to the stakes, or else, 
 at the will of the murderers, drawn up again to the 
 bank, as one might draw a pitcher from a well. 
 
 Already was the salt tide water beginning to flow 
 upwards along the Blednoch channel, bearing swirls of 
 foam upon its breast. 
 
 Margaret Lauchlison, being an aged woman of 
 eighty years, said no word as the tide rose above her 
 breast, where lowest in the river bed she stood waiting. 
 Her head hung down, and it was not till the water 
 reached her lips that she began to struggle, nor did I 
 see her make so much as a movement. Yet she was 
 determined to die as she had lived, an honest, peaceable, 
 Christian woman of a good confession — not learned, 
 save in the scholarship of God, but therein of high 
 attainment and great experience. And all honour be 
 to her, for even as she determined, so she died. 
 
 Then, when some of the soldiers were for fleeching 
 with her to take the Test, Lag cried out (for he ever 
 loved his dcvil's-broth served hot) : 
 
 " Bide ye there ! 'Tis needless to speak to the old 
 besom ! Let her go quick to hell ! " 
 
 But Provost Coltran, sober enough this morning, 
 and with other things to think of than the crows, 
 came to the bank '^Ige. And standing where his feet 
 were nearly on a level with our little Margaret's head, 
 he said to her : 
 
 " What see ye down there, Margaret Wilson ? 
 What think ye ? Can you with constancy suffer the
 
 THE SANDS OF WIGTOWN 367 
 
 choking of the salt water when it comes to your 
 turn ? " 
 
 Now, though Coltran was a rude man, and pang 
 full of oaths, he spoke not so unfeeHngly. But to him 
 Margaret replied, in a sweet voice that wafted up like 
 the singing of a psaim, from the sweltering pit of 
 pain : 
 
 " I see nought but Christ struggling there in the 
 water in the person of one of His saints ! " 
 
 Then the Provost came nearer still, and bending 
 down like an elder that gives counsel, said to her, 
 "Margaret, ye are young and ken no better. We 
 will give you your life gin ye pray for the King. 
 Will ye say aloud ' God save the King ' ? " 
 
 " I desire the salvation of all men," Margaret said. 
 " May God save him an He will ! " 
 
 Coltran rose with a flush of triumph in his eye. 
 He was none so bad a man, only dazed with drink and 
 bad company. 
 
 " She has said it ! " he cried, and from far and near 
 the people took up the cry " She has said it, she has 
 said it ! " And some were glad and some shook their 
 heads for what they counted the dishonour of the 
 submission. 
 
 Now, Blednoch sands under Wigtown town were a 
 sight to behold that day. They were black with folk, 
 all in scattering, changing groups. There were many 
 clouds of folk on the sands when the lassies were 
 " pitten doon," and in every little company there was 
 one praying. Through them patrollfd the soldiers in 
 fours, breaking up each little band of worshippers, 
 which dissolved only to come together again as soon as 
 they had passed. 
 
 Then the town officer, a cruel and ill-liked man.
 
 368 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 who never did well afterwards all his days, took his long- 
 hafted halbert, and, standing on the verge of the bank, 
 he set the end of it to Margaret Lauchlison's neck. 
 
 " Bide ye doon there and clep wi' the partans, 
 Margaret, my woman ! " he said, holding her head under 
 water till it hung loose and the life went from it. 
 
 The elder woman thus having finished her course 
 with joy, they unrove the nether rope and drew little 
 Margaret up to the bank, exhorting her to cry aloud 
 " God save the King ! " and also to pray for him, that 
 she might get her liberty. 
 
 For they began to be in fear, knowing that this 
 drowning of women would make a greater stir in the 
 world than much shooting of men. 
 
 " Lord give him repentance, forgiveness, and salva- 
 tion! " she said fervently and willingly. 
 
 But Lag cried out in his great hoar?e voice, "Out 
 upon the wretch ! We want not such oaths nor prayers. 
 Winram, get the Test through her teeth — or down 
 with her again." 
 
 But she steadfastly refused the wicked Test, the oath 
 of sin. As indeed we that loved Scotland and the 
 good way of religion had all learned to do. 
 
 " I cannot forswear my faith. I am one of Christ's 
 children. Let mc go to Him ! " she said, being will- 
 ing to depart, which she held to be far better. 
 
 " Back with her into the water ! " cried Lag. 
 *' The sooner she will win to hell. 'Tis too good for 
 a rebel like her ! " 
 
 But Coltran said, "Ye are fair to see, Margaret, 
 lass. Think weel, hinny ! Hae ye nane that ye 
 love?" 
 
 But she answered him not a word, being like one 
 other before her, like a lamb led to the slaughter.
 
 THE SANDS OF WIGTOWN 369 
 
 So they tied her again to the stake, where the water 
 was deeper now and lappered on her breast, swirHng 
 yellow and foul in oily bubbles. 
 
 Her great head coverture of hair — which, had I been 
 her lad, I should have delighted to touch and stroke — 
 now broke from the maiden's snood, and fell into the 
 water. There it floated, making a fair golden shining 
 in the grimy tide, like the halo which is about the 
 sun when he rises. Also her face was as the face of 
 an angel, being turned upward to God. 
 
 Then they began to drive the folk from the sands 
 for fear of what they might see — the beauty of the 
 dying maid, and go mad with anger at the sight. 
 
 Whereupon, being in extremity, she lifted her voice 
 to sing, calm as though it had been an ordinary Sabbath 
 morning, and she leading the worship at Glenvernock, 
 as indeed she did very well. 
 
 It was the twenty-fifth Psalm she sang, as followeth. 
 And when she that was a pure maid sang of her sins, 
 it went to my heart, thinking on my own greater 
 need : 
 
 "My sins and faults of youth 
 Do Thou, O Lord, forget ; 
 After Thy mercies think on me. 
 And for Thy goodness great." 
 
 It was a sweet voice and carried far. But lest it 
 should move the hearts of the people, Lag garred beat 
 the drum. And as the drums began to roll, I saw the 
 first salt wave touch the bonny maiden lips which no 
 man had kissed in the way of love. 
 
 Then the guards plucked me by the arm roughly 
 and dragged me away. The drums waxed still louder. 
 But as we went farther away, the voice of the maiden 
 
 2 A
 
 370 THE MEN OF THE M03S-HAGS 
 
 praising God out of the floods of great waters, broke 
 through them, rising clearer, besieging the throne of 
 God and breaking down the hearts of men. I saw the 
 tears hopping down many a rude soldier's cheek. 
 
 Nevertheless, they swore incessantly, cursing Lag 
 and Winram back and forth, threatening to shoot 
 them for devils thus to kill young maids and weakly 
 women. 
 
 But once again in the pauses of the drums the 
 words of Margaret's song came clear. Forget them 
 ''hall I never, till I too be on my deathbed, and can 
 remember nothing but " The Lord's my Shepherd," 
 which every Scot minds on his dying day. These 
 were the words she sang : 
 
 "Turn unto me Thy face. 
 And to mc mercy show ; 
 Because that I am desolate, 
 And am brought very low. 
 
 "O do Thou keep my soul. 
 Do Thou deliver mc ; 
 And let me never be ashamed. 
 Because I trust in Thee." 
 
 After the last line there was a break and a silence, 
 and no more — and no more! But after the silence 
 had endured a space, there arose a wailing that went 
 from the hill of Wigtown to the farthest shore of the 
 Cree — the wailing of a whole countryside for a young 
 lass done to death in the flower of her youth, in the 
 untouched grace and favour of her virginity.
 
 CHAPTER LII 
 
 THE MADNESS OF THE BULL OF EARLSTOUN 
 
 How they carried me to Edinburgh I cannot stop to 
 tell, though the manner of it was grievous enough. 
 But in my heart all the way there remained the fear 
 that while I was laid up in Edinburgh, Robert Grierson, 
 the wild beast of Galloway, might come and take 
 my mother and Maisie. And do so with them even as 
 he had done with Margaret Lauchlison and our little 
 Margaret of Glenvernock. And this vexed me more 
 than torments. 
 
 In Edinburgh they cast me into an inner den of the 
 prison, where in the irons there were ten men already. 
 Then when my name was made known, through the 
 darkness and the fearsome stench of the place, where no 
 fresh air had come for years, what was my joy to hear 
 the voice of Anton Lennox bidding me be of good 
 cheer — for that our Lord was a strong Lord, and 
 would see me win with credit from off the sta^e of life. 
 
 At this I took heart of grace at the kenned voice 
 and face, and we fell to discoursing about Maisie 
 Lennox and how she did. He told me that to the 
 honour of the King's service the soldiers had treated 
 him kindly, and had given him the repute of being a 
 man honourable above most. Nevertheless, the war- 
 rant for his execution was daily expected from London. 
 He told me also that my brother Sandy was in Black- 
 ness Castle, but that it was reported again that he was
 
 372 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 soon to be examined by torture. Indeed there was a 
 talk among the guard that I was to share this with 
 him, which made them the more careful of me, as one 
 whom the Council had an eye upon. 
 
 But it was not long before this matter was brought 
 to a probation. About three of the clock on the fol- 
 lowing day, there came officers to the Tolbooth Port 
 and cried my name, to which I answered with a 
 quaking heart — not for death, but for torture. So 
 they took me out and delivered me to the guard, who 
 haled me by back ways and closes to a little door let 
 into the side of a great hulk of grey wall. 
 
 Along stone passages very many, all dripping with 
 damp like a cellar, they dragged me, till beside three 
 doors hung with red cloth they stopped. Then instead 
 of swearing and jesting as they had done before, the 
 officers talked in whispers. 
 
 Presently a door swung open very silently to admit 
 me, and I set my feet upon a soft carpet. Then, also 
 without noise, the door swung to again. I found 
 myself alone in a cage, barriered like the cage of a 
 wild beast. It was at one end of a vast room with 
 black oaken ceiling, carven and panelled. Before me 
 there was a strong breastwork of oak, and an iron bar 
 across, chin high. Beside me and on either hand were 
 ranged strange-looking engines, some of which I knew 
 to be the " boots " for the torture of the legs, and the 
 pilniewinks for the bruising of the thumbs. Also 
 there stood at each side of the platform a man habited 
 in black and white and with a black mask over his face. 
 These men stood with their arms folded, and looked 
 across the narrow space at one another as though 
 they had been carven statues. 
 
 The rest of the great room was occupied by a table,
 
 THE MADNESS OF THE BULL 373 
 
 and at the table there sat a dignified company. Then 
 I understood that I stood in the presence of the Privy 
 Council of Scotland, which for twenty-five years had 
 bent the land to the King's will. At the head sat 
 cruel Queensberry, with a face louring with hate and 
 guile — or so it seemed, seen through bars of oak and 
 underneath gauds of iron. 
 
 Still more black and forbidding was the face of the 
 "Bluidy Advocate," Sir George Mackenzie, who sat 
 at the table-foot, and wrote incessantly in his books. 
 I knew none other there, save the fox face of Tarbet, 
 called the Timeserver. 
 
 When I was brought in, they were talking over 
 some slight matter concerning a laird who had been 
 complaining that certain ill-set persons were carrying 
 away sea-tangle from his foreshore. And I was not 
 pleased that they should have other thoughts in their 
 minds, when I was before them in peril of my life. 
 
 At last Sir George Mackenzie turned him about 
 and said, "Officer, whom have we here?" 
 
 The officer of the court made answer very shortly 
 and formally, " William Gordon, son of umquhile 
 William Gordon of Earlstoun in Galloway, and 
 brother of the aforementioned Alexander Gordon, 
 condemned traitor from the prison of Blackness, pre- 
 sently to be examined." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Mackenzie, picking up his pen again, 
 " the Glenkens messan ! We'll wait for the muckle 
 hound and take both the lowsy tykes thegether ! " 
 
 But Queensberry, as was his custom at Council, ran 
 counter to the advocate in his desire, and commanded 
 presently to interrogate me. 
 
 The Duke asked me first if I had been at the 
 wounding of the Duke Well wood.
 
 371 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 I answered him plainly that I had. But that it was 
 a fair fight, and that the Duke and his men had made 
 the first onslaught. 
 
 " You have proof of that at your hand, no doubt," 
 said he, and passed on as though that had been a thing 
 of little import — as indeed, in the light of my succeed- 
 ing admissions, it was. 
 
 " You were at Sanquhar town on the day of the 
 Declaration ? " he said, looking sharply at me, no 
 doubt expecting a denial or equivocation. 
 
 Now it seemed to me that I must most certainly 
 die, so I cared not if I did it with some credit. For 
 the whiner got even less mercy from these men, than 
 he that defied and outfaced them. 
 
 " I was at Sanquhar, and with this hand I raised the 
 Banner of Blue ! " I said. 
 
 " Note that, advocate," said Tarbet, smiling foxily. 
 " The King hath a special interest in all that took his 
 name in vain at Sanquhar." 
 
 Mackenzie glanced with a black, side-cocking look 
 of interest at the hand I held up, as if to say, " I shall 
 know that again when I see it on the Nether Bow !" 
 
 " You were at Ayrsmoss, and won clear ? " was the 
 next interrogatory. 
 
 " I was one of two that broke through both lines of 
 the troops when we came to the charge ! " I said, with 
 perhaps more of the braggart than I care now to think on. 
 
 Then all the Council looked up, and there was a 
 sudden stir of interest. 
 
 " Blood of St. Crispin !" said Oueensberry, " but ye 
 do not look like it. Yet I suppose it must be so." 
 
 " It is so," said Sir George the Advocate shortly, 
 flicking a parchment with the feather of his quill pen. 
 He had the record before him.
 
 THE MADNESS OF THE BULL 375 
 
 " Is there anything more that ye were in ? Being 
 as good as headed already, a little more will not matter. 
 It will be to your credit when the saints come to put 
 up your tomb, and scribe your testimony on it." 
 
 " I am no saint," said I, " though I love not Charles 
 Stuart. Neither, saving your honourable presences, 
 do I love the way that this realm is guided. But if it 
 please you to ken, I have been in all that has chanced 
 since Bothwell. I was at Enterkin the day we reft the 
 prisoners from you. I was in the ranks of the Seven 
 Thousand when, at the Conventicle at Shalloch-on- 
 Minnoch, the hillmen made Clavers and Strachan draw 
 off. I was taken at the Tolbooth of Wigtown trying 
 to deliver a prisoner, whom ye had reprieved. And 
 had there been anything else done, I should have been 
 in it." 
 
 The Council leaned back in their chairs almost to a 
 man, and smilingly looked at one another. The Pre- 
 sident spoke after a moment of silence. 
 
 " Ye are a brisk lad and ill to content, but your 
 sheet is gallantly filled. So that I think ye deserve 
 heading instead of hanging, which is certainly a great 
 remission. I shall e'en take the liberty of shaking 
 hands with you and wishing you a speedy passage and 
 a sharp axe. Officer, the prisoner is in your care till 
 his warrant comes from London." 
 
 And to my astonishment Oueensberry turned round 
 and very ceremoniously held out his hand to me, which 
 I took through the bars. 
 
 " I shall never again deny that Gordon blood is very 
 good blood," he said. 
 
 Then they brought in Sandy, looming up like a 
 tower between the warders. He had a strange, dazed 
 look about him, and his hair had grown till he peered
 
 376 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 out of the hassock, like to an owl out of an ivy bush, 
 as the proverb says. 
 
 They asked a few questions of him, to which he ga:ve 
 but mumbled replies. If he saw me he never showed 
 it. But I knew him of old, and a sly tod was Sandy. 
 
 Then Sir George Mackenzie rose, and turning to 
 him, read the King's mandate, which declared that, in 
 spite of his underlying sentence of d.LLii, he was to 
 be tortured, to make him declare the truth in the 
 matter of Fergusson the plotter, and the treason anent 
 the King's life. . 
 
 Then, the black wrath of his long prisonment 
 suddenly boiling over, Sandy took hold on the great 
 iron bar before him and bent his strength to it — which, 
 when he was roused, was like the strength of Samson. 
 With one rive he tore it from its fastenings, roaring 
 all the while with that terrible voice of his, which used 
 to set the cattle wild with fear when they heard it, 
 and which even affrighted men grown and bearded. 
 The two men in masks sprang upon Iiim, but he 
 seized them one in each hand and cuffed and buffeted 
 them against the wall, till I thought he had splattered 
 their brains on the stones. Indeed, I looked to see. 
 But though there was blood enough, there were no 
 brains to speak of. 
 
 Then very hastily some of the Council rose to their 
 feet to call the guard, but the door had been locked 
 during the meeting, and none for a moment could 
 open it. It was fearsome to see Sandy. His form 
 seemed to tower to the ceiling. A yellow foam, like 
 spume of the sea, dropped from his lips. He roared 
 at the Council with open mouth, and twirled the bar 
 over his head. With one leap he sprang over the 
 barrier, and at this all the councillors drew their gowns
 
 THE MADNESS OF THE BULL 377 
 
 about them and rushed pell-mell for the door, with 
 Sandy thundering at their keels with his iron bar. It 
 was all wonderfully fine to see. For Sandy, with more 
 sense than might have been expected of him, being 
 so raised, lundered them about the broadest of their 
 gowns with the bar, till the building was filled with 
 the cries of the mighty Privy Council of Scotland. 
 I declare I laughed heartily, though under sentence of 
 death, and felt that, well as I thought I had borne my- 
 self, Sandy the Bull had done a thousand times better. 
 
 Then from several doors the soldiery came rush- 
 ing in, and in short space Sandy, after levelling a file 
 with his gaud of iron, w?s overpowered by numbers. 
 Nevertheless, he continued :o struggle till they twined 
 him helpless in ceils of rope. In spite of all, it furnished 
 work for the best part of a company to take him to 
 the Castle, whither, " for a change of air," and to 
 relieve his madness he was remanded, by order of the 
 Council when next they met. But there was no more 
 heard of examining Sandy by torture. 
 
 And it was a tale in the city for many a day how 
 Sandy Gordon cleared the chamber of the Privy 
 Council. So not for the first time in my life I was 
 proud of my brother, and would have given all the 
 sense I had, which is no little, for the thews and bones 
 to have done likewise.
 
 CHAPTER LIII 
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH 
 
 So waiting the arrival and the day of my doom, I 
 continued to abide in the Tolbooth. Anton Lennox, 
 also waiting, as he said, his bridegroom day of marriage 
 and coronation, was with me. In the night alone we 
 had some peace and quiet. For they had turned in 
 upon us, to our horror, that wind-filled fool, John Gib 
 — whom for his follies, Anton Lennox had lundered 
 with a stick upon the Flowe of the Deer-Slunk. 
 
 With him was Davie Jamie the scholar, now grown 
 well nigh as mad as himself. Sometimes the jailors 
 played with them, and said, "John, this is your 
 Sunday's meal of meat ! " 
 
 Whereupon, so filled with moon-madness were 
 they, that they would refuse good victual, because it 
 had been given them upon a day with a heathen name. 
 Or, again, the more ill-set of the prisoners made their 
 game of them — for they were not all of them that 
 suffered for their faith, who were with us in the 
 Canongate Tolbooth. But many city apprentices 
 also that had been in brawls or had broken their 
 indentures. And, truth to tell, we were somewhat 
 glad of the regardless birkies. For when we were dull 
 of heart they made sport with us, and we were numer- 
 ous enough to keep them from interfering with our 
 worship. 
 
 So these wild loons would say : 
 
 " Prophesy to us, John Gib, for we know that thou
 
 UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH 379 
 
 hast the devil ever at thine elbow. Let us see thy 
 face shining, as it did at the Spout of Auchentalloch, 
 when ye danced naked and burned the Bible." 
 
 And whether it was with our expectant looking for 
 it, or whether the man really had some devilry about 
 him, certain it is that in the gloom of the corner, 
 where in his quiet spells he abode, there seemed to be 
 oftimes a horrible face near to his own, and a little 
 bluish light thrown upon his hair and eyes. This was 
 seen by most in the dungeon, though, for my own 
 part, I confess I could see nothing. 
 
 Then he would be taken with accesses of howling, 
 like to a moonstruck dog or a rutting hart on the 
 mountains of heather. And sometimes, when the fear 
 of Anton Lennox was upon him, he would try to stop 
 his roaring, thrusting his own napkin into his mouth. 
 But for all that the devil within him would drive out 
 the napkin and some most fearsome yells behind it, 
 as a pellet is driven from a boy's tow-gun. 
 
 This he did mostly during worship — which was 
 held thrice a day in the Tolbooth, and helped to pass 
 the time. At such seasons he became fairly possessed, 
 and was neither to hold nor bind. So that for common 
 they had to bring Anton Lennox to him with a quarter- 
 staff, with which he threatened him. And at sight of 
 old Anton, Gib, though a big strong man, would run 
 behind the door and crouch there on his hunkers, 
 howling grievously like a dog. 
 
 He was ordered into leg-irons, but his ravings 
 pleased the Duke of York so much (because that he 
 wanted to tar us all with the same stick) that he had 
 them taken off. Also he bade give him and David 
 Jamie as much paper and ink as ever they wanted, and 
 to send him copies of all that they wrote, for his 
 entertainn:icnt. But in time of worship after this,
 
 38o THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 Anton Lennox ordered four of the strongest and 
 biggest men to sit upon John Gib, streeked out on the 
 floor, as men sit together upon a bench in the kirk at 
 sermon-hearing. And we were glad when we fell on 
 this plan, for it discouraged the devil more than 
 anything, so that he acknowledged the power of the 
 gospel and quit his roaring. 
 
 Yet I think all this rough play kept up our hearts, 
 and stayed us from thinking all the time upon that day 
 of our bitter, final testifying, which was coming so 
 soon. To make an end now of Muckle John Gib, I 
 heard that he was sent by ship to the colonies, and 
 that in America he gained much honour among the 
 heathen for his converse with the devil. Nor did the 
 godly men that are there, ever discover Anton Lennox's 
 weighty method of exorcism — than which I ween 
 there is none better, for even the devil needs breath as 
 well as another. 
 
 But for all this, there was never an hour that chimed, 
 but I would wake and remember that at the sound of 
 a trumpet the port might any moment be opened and 
 I be summoned forth to meet my doom. And Anton 
 Lennox dealt with me there in the Canongate Tol- 
 booth for my soul's peace, and that very faithfully. 
 For there were not wanting among the prisoners those 
 that made no scruple to call me a sword-and-buckler 
 Covenanter, because I would not follow them in all 
 their protests and remonstrances. But Anton Lennox 
 warred with them with the weapons of speech for the 
 both of us, and told them how that I had already wit- 
 nessed a good confession and that before many wit- 
 nesses. He said also that there would not be wanting 
 One, when I had overpassed my next stage, to make 
 confession of William Gordon before the angels of 
 heaven. Which saying made them to cavil no more.
 
 CHAPTER LIV 
 
 ROBBERY ON THE KINc's HIGHWAY 
 
 Now that which follows concerns not myself, but 
 Maisie Lennox and others that were at this time forth 
 of the Tolbooth. Yet, because the story properly 
 comes in here, I pray the reader to suffer it gladly, for 
 without it I cannot come to my tale's ending, as I 
 must speedily do. How I came to know it, is no 
 matter now, but shall without doubt afterwards appear. 
 
 While Anton Lennox and I lay in the Tolbooth, 
 those that loved us were not idle. Wat moved Kate 
 and Kate moved Roger McGhie of Balmaghie. So 
 that he set off to London to see the King, in order to 
 get remission for me, and if need be to pay my fine, 
 because there was nothing he would not do to pleasure 
 his daughter. But though his intercession did good 
 in delaying the warrant, yet my owning of the raising 
 the flag at Sanquhar was too much for -the King, and 
 in due course my warrant sped ; of which the bruit 
 came north with a servant of Balmaghie's who rode 
 like the wings of the wind. But indeed I was not 
 greatly disappointed, for since my declaration to the 
 Privy Council, I never expected any other end. 
 
 As soon, however, as the news came to the house 
 of Balmaghie, Maisie Lennox betook herself to the 
 woodside to think. There she stayed for the better 
 part of an hour, pacing up and down more like an 
 aged man than a young maiden. Then, as my
 
 382 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 informant tells me, she came in again with a face 
 wonderfully assured. 
 
 " Give me a horse and suit of lad's clothes," she 
 said to her who kept the drapery closets and v/ardrobes 
 at the house of Balmaghie. 
 
 " Preserve us, lass, for what wad ye hae lad's claea ? " 
 said the ancient housekeeper. But without waiting to 
 reply, Maisie Lennox went and got them. 
 
 " The lassie's gane wud ! * There's nae reason in 
 her," she cried out in amazement. 
 
 But indeed it was a time when men and women 
 were not inclined to stand upon reasons. For each 
 being supposed to have his neck deep in the tow, he 
 had no doubt his own good logic for whatever he 
 proposed. 
 
 So Mistress Crombie, housekeeper to the Laird of 
 Balmaghie, without further question, fitted Maisie 
 Lennox with a suit of lad's clothes, which (having 
 taken off and again suitably attired herself) she 
 strapped in a roll on her saddle-bow and covered with 
 a plaid. Then, dressed like a maid that goes to her first 
 place and rides a borrowed horse, she took her way 
 eastward. Now at that time, so important were the 
 proclamations and Privy Council matters, that every 
 week there rode a post who carried naught but 
 reprieves and sentences. 
 
 It had been the custom of late, ever since the 
 numerous affrays near the border of Berwick, that this 
 messenger of life and death should ride by Carlisle and 
 Moffat to Edinburgh. 
 
 Now this young maid, contrary to the wont of 
 women folk, had all her life said little and done much. 
 
 Mad.
 
 ROBBERY ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY 383 
 
 So when Maisie Lennox came to the side of the Little 
 Queensbeny Hill, having ridden all the way sedately, 
 as a sober maiden ought, she went aside into a thicket 
 and changed her woman's appearance to that of a 
 smart birkie who rides to college. It was about the 
 time when the regents call up such to the beginning 
 of their classes. So it was a most feasible-like thing, 
 and indeed there were a good many upon the roads. 
 But Maisie Lennox kept out of their company, for 
 these wandering students are ever inclined to be goat- 
 ish, and full of impish pranks, whether as I saw them 
 at Groningen or in Edinburgh town. 
 
 So she (that was for the time being he) came riding 
 into the town of MofFat, just when the London state 
 messenger was expected. There my lass entered the 
 hostelry of the White Hart, which was kept by a 
 decent woman named Catherine Cranstoun. As a 
 ruffling young gallant, she strode in, with her chest well 
 out and one hand on the hilt of the rapier which she held 
 modishly thrust forward. But Maisie, when she found 
 herself within, was a little daunted to see a great pair of 
 pistols, a sword, and other furniture of a King's rider lie 
 upon the table. While from within a little chamber, 
 the door of which stood ajar, she heard the sound as of 
 one who sleeps, and snores sonorously in his sleep. 
 
 " A good day to ye. Mistress Cranstoun," said 
 Maisie boldly, and most like a clerkish student. " Will 
 ye get me a drink of good caller water ? " 
 
 " That," said the good wife shrewishly, turning her 
 eyes scorningly across her nose, " is not good asking at 
 a changehouse. I warrant we do not live and pay 
 our v/inter's oats by sellin' caller water to student 
 birkies ! " 
 
 "So, good madam," said our Maisie again ; "but if
 
 384 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 you will get mc a drink from your famous medicinal 
 spring — a good fresh quart — most gladly I will pay for 
 it — aye, as if it had been claret wine of the best bin 
 in your cellar." 
 
 At hearing of which the landlady pricked up 
 her ears. 
 
 " I will e'en gae bring it mysel'," she said in a 
 changed voice, for such orters came not every day. 
 "It is for a wager," she thought. "The loons are 
 ever after some daft ploy." 
 
 As she went to the door she had a thought. 
 " Mind ye," she said, " meddle not wi' the pistols, 
 for they belong to one on the King's service." 
 
 So she set out to bring the water in a wooden cogie 
 with a handle. 
 
 As soon as she was fairly gone, Maisie stole on 
 tip-toe to the door of the room whence the snoring 
 proceeded. She peeped circumspectly within, and 
 there on a rough bed with the neck of his bufF riding- 
 coat thrown open, lay the King's rider, a great clean- 
 shaven fellow with a cropped head, and ear-rings in his 
 ears. The edge of the m?il-bag peeped from under 
 the pillow, and the ribbons of seals showed beneath the 
 flaps. 
 
 Maisie laid her hand on her heart to still its painful 
 beating. Clearly there was no chance of drawing the 
 bag from under the rider's head, for his hand was 
 twisted firmly in the strap. It was with mighty grief 
 in her heart that Maisie Lennox stepped back. But 
 at sight of the pistols on the table, a thought and a 
 hope sprang up together within her. She hasted to 
 take them up and draw the charges, leaving only a 
 sprinkling of powder in the pan of each. 
 
 And as she rode oft', she bore with her the landlady's
 
 ROBBERY ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY 385 
 
 benediction, for the good wife had never been so paid 
 for caller spring water before. 
 
 It was at the entrance to the wild place known as 
 the Devil's Beef Tub, near the last wood on the up- 
 ward way over the hills, that Maisie waited for the 
 King's rider. There were, no doubt, many thoughts 
 in her heart, but she did not dwell upon them — save it 
 might be upon this one, that if the rider discovered ■ 
 that the charges had been drawn, it would certainly go 
 ill with her and worse with those whom she had come 
 out to save. 
 
 What wortder, then, if her maid's heart flew faster 
 even than Gay Garland had done when he fled before 
 the gipsy clan. 
 
 At last, after long waiting, she heard far off the 
 clatter of a horse's feet on the road, and her courage 
 returned to her. As the King's messenger came 
 trotting easily down an incline, she rode as quietly out 
 of a byway into the road and let him range alongside. 
 
 With a polite toss of the reins, as was then the 
 modish fashion, she bade him good day. 
 
 " Ye are a bonny birkie. Hae ye ony sisters ? " 
 said the man in the Lothian tongue. 
 
 Maisie answered him no — an only bairn and riding 
 to the college at Edinburgh. 
 
 " Ye'U be a braw student, no doubt." 
 
 She told him so-so. 
 
 " I'se warrant ye ! " said he, for he was jovial by 
 nature, and warmed with Mistress Cranstoun's wine. 
 
 So they rode on in friendly enough talk till they 
 were nearing the wood, when Maisie, knowing that 
 the time had come, wheeled about and bade him 
 "Stand ! " At the same time she pointed a pistol at 
 his head. 
 
 2B
 
 386 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 "Deliver me your mails," she said, "or I shall take 
 your life ! " 
 
 The man laughed as at a pleasant jest. 
 
 " Gae wa' wi' ye, birkie. Nane o' your college 
 tricks wi' me, or ye may aiblins come to a mishap, 
 am no' a man to tak' oiFence, but this somewhat passes 
 merrymaking ! " 
 
 But when Maisie pulled the other pistol and levelled 
 it also at his head, the rider hesitated no longer, but 
 pulled out his own and took aim at her heart. 
 
 " Your blood be on your own head, then I I never 
 missed yet ! " he cried, and pulled the trigger. 
 
 But the powder only flashed in the pan. With an 
 oath he pulled the other and did likewise with it, but 
 quite as fruitlessly. 
 
 Then he leaped down and tried to grip Maisie's 
 horse by the bridle, for he was a stark carle and no 
 coward. 
 
 But her horse obeyed the guiding hand. With a 
 swing to the left she swept out of his reach, so as to 
 catch the bridle of the horse which carried the mails 
 and which, fresh from the stable, was inclined to crop 
 the herbage. Then she rode away leaving the man 
 standing amazed and speechless in the middle of the 
 road. He started to run after his assailant, but Maisie 
 sent a bullet back, which halted him. For by chance 
 it struck a stone among the red dust at his feet, and 
 went through between his legs buzzing like a bumble- 
 bee. And this is indeed a thins; which would have 
 halted most folk. 
 
 It was with fearful heart that Maisie Lennox, in 
 the deepest shades of the wood, ripped open the bags. 
 Almost the first paper she came upon was her father's 
 death warrant. With trembling hand she turned over
 
 ROBBERY ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY 387 
 
 the papers to find mine also. But there were only 
 Privy Council letters and documents in cypher. Over 
 and over she turned them, her heart, 1 doubt not, ham- 
 mering loudly. But there was not another warrant any- 
 where. It must have been sent forward by another 
 hand. It might even be in Edinburgh already, she 
 thought. Almost she had returned the letters to the 
 bag and left them at the tree foot, when she noted a 
 little bulge in the thickness of the leather near the 
 clasp. In a moment she had her knife within, and 
 there, enclosed in a cypher letter to the President of 
 the Council, was a free pardon, signed and sealed, 
 wanting only the name inserted. Without doubt it 
 was intended for some of the private friends of Duke 
 Queensberry. But at sight of it Maisie's heart gave a 
 still greater stound, and without a moment for con- 
 sideration she galloped off towards Edinburgh, upon 
 the fresh horse of his Majesty's post rider. When she 
 came to the first woods over the crown of the dreary 
 hill road, she put off the lad's apparel and dressed again 
 as the quiet maid upon her travels, whom none would 
 suspect of bold robbery of his Majesty's dispatches 
 upon his own highway. 
 
 Then as she took the road to Edinburgh, consider 
 what a turmoil and battle there was in her heart. She 
 says that she saw not the road all the way for thinking, 
 
 and I doubt it not. " My father or my lad " she 
 
 argued with herself. " Which name shall I put in ? 
 It may not serve them long, but it will save them at 
 least this day from death." 
 
 And in the clatter of her horse's feet she found no 
 answer to her question. 
 
 Then she told over to herself all that her father had 
 done for her since she remembered — the afternoons
 
 388 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 when it was the Sabbath on the pleasant green bank at 
 the Duchrae loaning end, the words of wise counsel 
 spoken there, the struggle at the cave when the cruel 
 Mardrochat was sent to his account. She did not 
 forget one. Other things also she owns that she 
 thought of. " Whatever may happen to me, I must 
 • — I shall save my father ! " she concluded. 
 
 She was on a lonely place on the moors, with deep 
 moss-hags and holes in the turf where men had cut 
 peat. These were now filled with black water. She 
 stopped, took out the warrant for her father's execu- 
 tion, tore it in a thousand pieces, and sunk it carefully 
 in the deep hag. The white horse of the King's rider 
 meanwhile stood patiently by till she mounted again — 
 I warrant as swiftly as she used to do in the old days 
 at the Duchrae. 
 
 But the tearing of the warrant would only delay 
 and not prevent her father's death. She saw that 
 clearly. There came to her the thought of the free 
 pardon. To inscribe a name in the blank space meant 
 a release from prison and the chance of escape. She 
 resolved to write it when she came to the next change- 
 house. 
 
 But as she rode she fell to the thinking, and the 
 question that surged to and fro in her heart, like the 
 tide in a sea-cave, was — which name would be found 
 written on that pardon vv^hen she rode to the Tolbooth 
 of Edinburgh to deliver it into the hands of the 
 Captain of the Guard. 
 
 As she thought she urged her horse the faster, so 
 that the sooner she might come to the changehouse 
 and settle the question. 
 
 " He is my father," she said over and over, dwelling 
 on all that her father had been to her. " I cannot — I
 
 ROBBERY ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY 389 
 
 will not think of others before him. It is my father's 
 name I will write in the pardon — I must, yes I must ! " 
 
 And the name of another did she not mention at 
 all, as I have been informed. At last she came to the 
 door of the changehouse, and, throwing her reins over 
 the tying post at the gate, she went in boldly. 
 
 " Bring me an inkhorn and a goose-quill ! " she 
 cried to the dame of the inn, forgetting that she had 
 donned her maid's clothes again, and speaking in the 
 hectoring voice of the birkie student. She threw a 
 silver coin on the table with a princely air that suited 
 but indifferently with the sober fashion of her maiden's 
 dress. And among the mutchkins on the ribbed and 
 rimmed deal table, she squared herself to write in the 
 name upon her free pardon. 
 
 She set her pen to the parchment bravely. Then 
 she stopped, took a long breath e./id held it, as though 
 it were the dying breath of one well-beloved which she 
 had in her keeping. With sudden access of resolve 
 she began a bold initial. She changed it. Then she 
 wrote again hastily with a set face, but holding her 
 hand over the writing, as though to shield the words 
 from sight. Which being done, she looked at what 
 she had written with a blanched and terror-stricken 
 countenance. 
 
 No sooner was the ink dry, than bending again to 
 the paper, she began eagerly to scrape at it with her 
 finger-nail, as though she would even yet change her 
 thought. 
 
 But as she rubbed the parchment, which was very 
 fine and soft, part of it curled up at the edge into a 
 tiny roll like a shaving of bark when one cuts a white 
 birch. Instantly Maisie discerned that there were two 
 parchments instead of one.
 
 390 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 With a light and cunning hand she separated them 
 carefully. They had been secretly attached so as to 
 look like one. Casting her eyes rapidly over the 
 second parchment, her heart leaped within her to find 
 that it was another pardon, the duplicate of the first, and, 
 like it, duly signed and sealed. It was a moment's 
 work to write in the other name upon this great dis- 
 covery. Then throwing, in her joy, a gold piece upon 
 the table beside the shilling, she mounted at the stance, 
 and rode away in the direction of the capital. 
 
 *' My word ! " said the good wife of the change-, 
 house, gazing after her, " but that madam doesna want 
 confidence. I doot she will be after no good ! " 
 
 " She doesna want siller," quoth her husband gather- 
 ing up the money, " and that's a deal more to the 
 point in a changehouse ! " 
 
 But Maisie Lennox has never told to any — not even 
 to me, who have some right to know her secrets — that 
 name which she first wrote when she had to choose 
 between her father's life and her lover's. 
 
 She only says, " Let every maid answer in her own 
 heart which name she would have written, being in 
 my place, that day in the changehouse ! " 
 
 And even so may I leave it to all the maidens that 
 may read my history to let their hearts answer which. 
 For they also will not tell.
 
 CHAPTER LV 
 
 THE RED MAIDEN 
 
 The great day which we had been expecting dawned, 
 and lo ! it was even as any other day. The air was 
 shrewdly cold when I awoke very early in the morning, 
 just as I had awaked from sleep every morning since I 
 can remember. It was my custom to begin to say the 
 little prayer which my mother had taught me before I 
 was fairly awake. This I did when I was but a boy, 
 for the economising of time ; and I continued the 
 practice when I put away most other childish things. 
 I declare solemnly that I was past the middle of the 
 prayer, before the thought came to me that this was 
 the morn of the day on which I was to die. Even 
 then, by God's extreme mercy, fear did not take me 
 utterly by the throat. 
 
 I had dreamed of the day often, and shivered to 
 think of that awaking. But now that it was here it 
 seemed to me like any morn in the years, when I used 
 to awake in the little sunlit tourelle at Earlstoun to 
 the noise of the singing of birds, and turn my thoughts 
 upon riding to the Duchrae by the Grenoch side to 
 see Maisie Lennox — little Maisic May, whom now I 
 should see no more. 
 
 So by the strengthening mercy of God I was 
 enabled to finish my mother's prayer with some com- 
 posure. And also to remember her and Maisic, com-
 
 392 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 mending them both to the gracious care of One who 
 is able to keep. 
 
 Then came the Chancellor's Commissioner to tell 
 us that by the high favour of his master we were to 
 be headed in the early morn. And that, too, in the 
 company of the great Earl of Cantyre, who, after 
 lying long in prison, was that day, for rebellion in the 
 Highlands and the Isles, condemned to lose his head. 
 No higher favour could be granted, though it seemed 
 not so much to me as doubtless to some, that I should 
 lay my head beside an Earl's on the block of the 
 Maiden, instead of setting my neck in a rope at the 
 hands of the common executioner in the Grassmarket. 
 
 But there is no doubt that all Scotland, and especially 
 all the clan Gordon, would think differently of the 
 matter — ay, even my mother. And to Wat such a 
 death would seem almost like an accolade. 
 
 They read me my warrant in my death dungeon by 
 the light of a dim rushlight. But that of Anton 
 Lennox they read not, for a reason that has already 
 appeared, though they told us not of it at the time. 
 Yet because the messenger was expected to arrive 
 every moment with it, Anton, who shared my favour 
 of execution, was to accompany us to the scaffold. 
 
 When they ushered us forth it was yet starlight, 
 but the day was coming over the Forth. And the 
 hum and confused noise of rustling and speech told 
 us of the presence of a great multitude of people 
 about us. They had indeed come from far, even 
 from the wild Highlands, for such a heading had not 
 been known for years. Our keepers gave us a good 
 room, and an excellent breakfast was ready for us in a 
 house contiguous to the scaffold. When we came in, 
 the Earl was at the head of the table, and the gentlemen
 
 The red maiden 393 
 
 of his name about him, Anton and I standing apart 
 by ourselves. Then the Dean of Edinburgh, Mr. 
 Annand, came and asked us to be seated. Anton 
 would not, but went to the window and stood com- 
 mending himself to the God in whose presence he 
 was so soon to appear. However, since it seemed to 
 be expected of a gentleman to command his spirit 
 before death, for the honour of his party and cause, I 
 sat me down with the others, and ate more heartily 
 than I could have expected, though the viands tasted 
 strange, dry, and savourless. They gave us also wine 
 to wash them down withal, which went not amiss. 
 
 When they saw that it was growing lighter, they 
 put out the candles, and we were brought down the 
 stairs. When I came to the outside and heard the 
 murmur of the crowd, suddenly and strangely I 
 seemed to be breathing, not sweet morning air, but 
 water chilled with ice. And I had to breathe many 
 breaths for one. There seemed no sustenance in 
 them. 
 
 Now Cantyre, being a very great man, was allowed 
 his chief friends to be with him. Eight of them 
 attended him in full mourning to the scaffold, chiefly 
 Montgomeries of Skelmorly and Campbells of Skepnish 
 and Dunstaffnage — all noble and well-set men. And 
 Anton Lennox and I were permitted to walk with 
 him without any disgrace, but with our hats on our 
 heads and in our own best attire, which the Chancellor 
 had allowed to be provided for us. At least so it was 
 with me. For Anton Lennox would have none of 
 these gauds, but was in an ordinary blue bonnet and 
 hodden grey. But for me, though I was to die for 
 the faith, I saw no reason why I should not die like a 
 gentleman
 
 394 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 As we went by the way, the people hushed them- 
 selves as we came, and many of them sank on their 
 knees to give us a parting prayer to speed us on our 
 far journey. The Dean and other Divinity men of 
 the ruling party approached, to give us what ghostly 
 counsel they could. But, as I expected, Anton would 
 have none of the Dean or indeed of any other of them. 
 But I was not averse to speak with him, at least as far 
 as the natural agitation of my spirits would permit. 
 As for prayers, I leant on none of them, except my 
 mother's, which I had reipeated that morning. But I 
 kept saying over and over to myself the Scots version 
 of the twenty-third Psalm, "The Lord's my Shep- 
 herd," and from it gat wondrous comfort. 
 
 The Dean asked me if I had my "testimony" 
 ready written. I told him that testimonies were not 
 for me. 
 
 " What," he said, "do you not hold the covenants?" 
 " I held a sword for them so long as I could. 
 Now, when I cannot, I can at least hold my tongue ! " 
 • Even with the scaffold looming out down the 
 vennel, it pleased me to say this to him, for such is 
 the vanity of Galloway, and especially of a Galloway 
 Gordon. Besides, I had once played with the Dean 
 at golf upon Leith Links, and he had beaten me foully. 
 Not twice would he outface me, even though it were 
 my death day. 
 
 Mr. Annand was a very pleasant-spoken man, and 
 I think a little grateful that I should speak compla- 
 cently to him. For he was abashed that Cantyre 
 would have nothing to say to him — no, nor for that 
 matter, Anton Lennox either. 
 
 He asked me what affair had brought me there, 
 which vexed me, for I had supposed the whole city
 
 THE RED MAIDEN 395 
 
 ringing with my braving of the Council, and the 
 Chancellor's shaking hands with me. 
 
 " I have done God's will," I made him answer, 
 "at least as I saw it, in fighting against Charles 
 Stuart, for his usage of my country and my house. 
 Were I to escape, I should but do the same thing again. 
 It is his day, and Charles Stuart has me on the edge 
 of the iron. But not so long ago it was his father's 
 turn, and so, in due time, it may be his." 
 
 " God forbid ! " said the Dean piously, thinking 
 no doubt, poor man, that if the King went that way, 
 certain others might also. 
 
 "God send him as honourable a death. 'Twere 
 better than lolling with madams on Whitehall couches, 
 that he should honourably step forth from the window 
 of the banqueting hall as his father did ! " I made him 
 answer. 
 
 " You are a strange Whig, Mr. William Gordon," 
 he said ; " do you even give that testimony to them 
 from the scaffold. It will be a change from their 
 general tenor." 
 
 I said : " You mistake me. I believe as much and 
 as well as any of them, and I am about to die for it, 
 but testimonies are not in my way. Besides, some- 
 where my mother is praying for me." 
 
 " I would the King could have spared you," he said. 
 "There is need of some like you in this town of 
 Edinburgh." 
 
 "When I was in Edinburgh," I replied, "I had 
 not the spirit of a pooked hen, but holding the banner 
 at Sanquhar hath wondrously brisked me." 
 
 All this while I could see the lips of Anton Lennox 
 moving. And I knew right well that if I had little 
 to say at the last bitter pinch, he would deliver his
 
 396 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 soul for the two of us — ay, and for the Earl, too, if he 
 were permitted. 
 
 It was just at this mcment that we came in sight of 
 the Maiden, which was set high on a platform of black 
 wood. There was much scaffolding, and also a tall 
 ladder leading thereto. But what took and held my 
 eye was the evil leaden glitter of the broad knife, 
 which would presently shear away my life.
 
 CHAPTER LVI 
 
 THE MAID ON TH'^: WHITE HORSE 
 
 Then slowly a rim about my neck grew icy cold 
 till it ached with the pain — as when, on a hot day, one 
 holds one's wrists over-long in a running stream. 
 Nevertheless, my southland pride and the grace of 
 God kept me from vulgarly showing my fear. 
 
 Yet even the Earl, who came of a familv that ought 
 by this time to have grown accustomed to losing their 
 heads, was shaken somewhat by the sight of the 
 Maiden. And, indeed, such present and visible death 
 will daunten the most resolute courage. Therefore 
 he caused bind the napkin upon his face, ere he ap- 
 proached nearer, and so was led upon the scaffold first. 
 I went next, schooling myself to go firmly and saying 
 only, " It will soon be over ! It will soon be over ! " 
 Then I would fall to my twenty-third Psalm again, 
 and specially to the verse about " death's dark vale," 
 which did indeed strengthen me so that I feared none 
 ill, or at least not so very much. But at such times 
 one goes on, winning through unshamed, more by the 
 mechanical action of one's body and the instinct of 
 silence, than by the actual thing which men call 
 courage. 
 
 But when at last we stood upon the scaffold, and 
 looked about us at the great concourse of people, all 
 silent and all waiting to see us die, more than every- 
 thing else I wished that they had thought to put a rail
 
 398 THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 about the edge. For the platform being so high, and 
 the time so early in morning, I walked a little as 
 though my legs had been the legs of another and not 
 mine own. But in time this also passed ofF. 
 
 Then they read Cantyre's warrant, and asked him if 
 he had aught to say. He had a long paper prepared, 
 which, standing between his two friends, v/ho held 
 him by either arm, he gave to the Dean. And very 
 courteously he bade us who were to die with him 
 farewell, and also those that were with him. He was 
 a most gallant gentleman, though a Highlandman. 
 They made us stand with our backs to the Maiden, 
 and rolled the drums, while they set him in his place. 
 But for all that I heard louder than thunder the 
 horrible crunch as of one that shaws frosty cabbages 
 with a blunt knife. Methought I had fainted away, 
 when I heard the answering splash, and the loud 
 universal " Ah ! " which swept across the multitudes 
 of people. 
 
 Yet as they turned me about, because my time had 
 come, I saw quite clearly beneath me the populace 
 fighting fiercely one with another beneath the scaffold, 
 for the blood that drippled through the boards, dipping 
 their kerchiefs and other linen fabrics in it for keep- 
 sakes. Also I perceived the collapsed body, most like 
 a sack that falls sideways ; and the tall masked heads- 
 man holding up the Door dripping head. For the 
 napkin had fallen away from the staring eyne, and 
 I shuddered at the rasping echo of his words. 
 
 " This is the head of a traitor ! " he cried, as the 
 custom is. 
 
 Again the people cried, " Ah ! " — they cried it 
 through their clenched teeth. But it was more like a 
 wild beast's growl than a human cry.
 
 THE MAID ON THE WHITE HORSE 399 
 
 Then I was bidden speak if I had aught to say 
 before I died. 
 
 So I took off my hat, and though for a moment I 
 stood without strength, suddenly my voice was given 
 back to me, and that with such surprising power that 
 I never knew that I had so great an utterance, 
 
 " I die (so they recorded my words) in the faith 
 my father taught me, and for v/hich my father died ; 
 neither for King nor bishop will I change it. Neither 
 for love nor lands will I recreant or swear falsely. I 
 am a Gordon of Earlstoun. I die for the freedom of 
 this land. God do so to me and more also, if ever I 
 gave my back to a foe, or my shoulder to a friend all 
 the days of my life ! That is all my testimony. 
 God have mercy on my sinful soul, for Christ's sake. 
 Amen ! " 
 
 " Lord, that is no Whig word ! " cried one from 
 the crowd — a soldier, as I think. 
 
 " 'Tis a pity he is a rebel," said another. I heard 
 them as though they had spoken of another, and not 
 of myself. And all the time I had been speaking I 
 was watching the headsman v/iping his broad sliding 
 blade with a fragment of fine old linen, daintily as 
 one may caress a sweetheart or other beloved possession. 
 
 Then the Dean began the praying, for, because I 
 had played with him upon the Links of Leith at our 
 diversion, I could not reject his ministrations. And 
 also, as I said, he was a pleasant, well-spoken man. 
 But he had hardly said many words, or indeed gotten 
 fairly into the matter of his prayer — which being an 
 Episcopalian, it took him a long time to do — when his 
 voice seemed to be drowned in the surging murmur 
 which rose from the people far down the spaces of the 
 Grassmarket. The sound we heard was as that of a
 
 Aoo THE MEN OF THE MOSS-HAGS 
 
 mighty multitude crying aloud ; but whether for joy or 
 hate, I could not tell. The Dean went on praying, 
 with his book open. But none, I think, minded him, 
 or indeed could have heard him if they had. For 
 every eye in all that mighty throng was turned to the 
 distance, whence came the cheering of the myriad 
 throats. 
 
 The soldiers looked one to the other, and the 
 officers drew together and conferred. They thought, 
 doubtless, that it was the messenger of death with the 
 other warrant of execution, that for Anton Lennox. 
 Yet they marvelled why in that case the people 
 shouted. 
 
 The commander bade the drums beat, for the voices 
 of those about the scaffold-foot began to take up the 
 shouting, and he feared a tumult. So the kettle drums 
 brayed out their angry waspish whirr, and the great 
 basses boomed dull and hollow over all. 
 
 But in spite of all, the crying of the whole people 
 waxed louder and louder, and the rejoicing came 
 nearer and nearer, so that they could in no wise drown 
 it with all their instruments of music. 
 
 Then, in the narrow Gut of the West Fort I saw 
 a white horse and a rider upon it, driving fiercely 
 through the black press of the throng. And ever the 
 people tossed their bonnets in the air, flecking the red 
 sunrise with them. And the crowd fell back before 
 the rider as the foam surges from the prow of a swift 
 boiit on Solway tide. 
 
 And lo ! among the shouting throng I looked and 
 saw, and knew. It was my own lass that rode and 
 came to save me, even while the headsman was wiping 
 the crimson from the bloody shearing knife to make it 
 ready for me. In either hand she waved the parch-
 
 THE MAID ON THE WHITE HORSE 401 
 
 ment of pardon, and the people shouted : " A pardon ! 
 a pardon ! God save the King ! " 
 
 Without rein she rode, and the people opened a 
 lane for her weary horse. Very pale was her face, the 
 sweetest that ever the sun shone on. Very weary 
 were the lids of her eyes, that were the truest and 
 the bravest which ever God gave to woman. But 
 when they were lifted up to look at me on the scaffold 
 of death, I saw that through the anxiety, which 
 drew dark ring-s about them, they were joyful with a 
 great joy ! 
 
 And this is what my Maisie Lennox did for me. 
 
 2 C
 
 FOLLOWETH 
 
 The conclusion of the author to the reader 
 
 But our perils were not yet wholly over. We were 
 in fear that at any hour the messenger might arrive, 
 having gotten another horse, even in that lonely place 
 where Maisie left him. But having pardons in the 
 King's hand, our foes themselves were eager to be nd 
 of us. They knew that Roger McGhie had been 
 busy on our behalfs, so that the Council showed no 
 surprise that he had prevailed, knowing how great he 
 was with John Graham, and also with the Duke of 
 York. But they ordered us all, Maisie Lennox, 
 her father, and I, forth of the kingdom upon the 
 instant. So within an hour we went, right well 
 content, along with the officers on board a ship at 
 Leith, that waited, with anchor weighed and sails 
 backed in the Roads, for the Council's permit to 
 proceed. Which being obtained by the same boat 
 that brought us, they drew away with us on board upon 
 the instant. And it was as well, for, as our friends 
 afterwards advised us, the plundered messenger came 
 in during the night ; and with the earliest break of 
 morn there was a swift vessel on our track. But by 
 that time we were well-nigh half over, with a good 
 ship and a following wind. So that there was no 
 vessel in Scotland that could catch us. 
 
 In due time we landed at Rotterdam with great joy 
 and rejoicing. Now, there remains many a story that
 
 CONCLUSION 403 
 
 I might tell concerning our life there — how I took 
 service in the Scots regiments of the Prince, how poor 
 we were and how happy. Indeed, if I be spared and 
 keep my wits, I may write it one day. For, to my 
 thinking, it is a good tale, and infinitely more mirth- 
 ful than this of the killing time, which presently it has 
 been my lot to tell. Though Sandy had no part in it, 
 seeing that he abode until the coming of the Prince in 
 the strong castle of Blackness, yet not greatly ill-done 
 to, being tended there by his wife. 
 
 Also in it there should be commemorated how my 
 mother came to us, and concerning Wat and Kate, 
 and all that sped between them. Also, for a greater 
 theme, how we went back and helped Renwick and 
 Cleland to raise again the Seven Thousand, and how 
 we stood in the breach when the Stuarts were swept 
 away. Especially I would joy to tell of the glorious 
 Leaguer of Dunkeld. That were a tale to attempt, 
 indeed, with Maisie Lennox at that tale's ending, 
 even as she has been the beginning and middle and 
 end of this. Only by that time she was no more 
 Maisie Lennox. 
 
 Concluded in my study at Afton^ December 2, 1702. 
 
 W. G. 
 
 FINIS 
 
 printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co. 
 
 Lcndon and Edinburgh
 
 A LIST OF NEW AND RECENT 
 BOOKS ISSUED BY 
 ISBISTER 5^ COMPANY 
 LTD. COVENT GAR- 
 DEN LONDON 
 AUTUMN 
 189^ 
 
 r
 
 Isbister's New Books 
 
 THE MEN OF THE MOSS- 
 HAGS. A Story of the Cove- 
 nanters. By S. R. Crockett, 
 Autl->or of " The Raiders," *' The Stickit 
 Minister," &c. 
 
 Large crown 8vo, gilt top, 6s. 
 
 THE TENDER MERCIES OF 
 THE GOOD. A New 
 Story. By Christabel Cole- 
 ridge, Author of "Wayntlete," "An 
 English Squire," &c. 
 
 Large crown 8vo, gilt top, 6s, 
 
 TEMPTATION AND TOIL. 
 Selected Discourses. By ths 
 Rev. W. Hay M. H. Aitken, M.A., 
 Author of "The Love of the Father," &c. 
 
 Vol. XVI. of " The Gospel and the Age " Series. 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top, 3s, del. 
 
 WOMEN MISSIONARIES. 
 A Companion to "The 
 Heroic in Missions." 
 
 By the Rev. A. R. BUCKLAND, M.A., 
 Morning Preacher at the Foundling Hos- 
 pital. 
 
 Crown 8vo, Is, 6d.
 
 Isbister's New Books 
 
 EPISCOPAL PALACES OF 
 ENGLAND. By the late Rev. 
 Precentor Venables, M.A., 
 and others. 
 
 With an Etched Frontispiece of Lam- 
 beth Palace from the Thames, and 120 
 Illustrations by ALEXANDER ANSTED. 
 
 Contents : 
 
 Lambeth Palace. Fulham Palace. 
 
 Bishopthorpe. Rose Castle. 
 
 Farnham Castle. Wells Palace. 
 
 Auckland Castle. Ely Palace. 
 
 Lincoln Palace. Norwich Palace. 
 
 Salisbury Palace. 
 
 Imperial 8vo, 21s. net. 
 
 THE GREAT CHARTER OF 
 CHRIST. Studies in the 
 Sermon on the Mount. By 
 
 the Rt. Rev. W. BOYD CARPENTER, D.D., 
 Lord Bishop of Ripon. 
 
 Crown 8yo, gilt top, 5s. 
 
 THE TEACHING OF JESUS. 
 By R. F. HORTON, M.A., D.D., 
 Author of " Revelation and the 
 Bible," &c. 
 
 Vol. XVil. of " The Gospel and the Age" Series. 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top, 3s. 6d.
 
 Isbister's New Books 
 
 THE TWO ST. JOHNS OF 
 THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 By James Stalker, D.D., 
 Author of •' Imago Christi," &c. 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top, Gs. 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION TO 
 
 A EDUCATION. By H. HOL- 
 '^ ^ MAN, M.A., late Professor of 
 Education and Master of Method at Uni- 
 versity College, Aberystwith. 
 Crown 8yo, 3s. 6d. net 
 
 THE GREAT ASTRONO- 
 MERS. Biographical Studies. 
 By Sir ROBERT S. BALL, LL.D., 
 F.R.S., Lowndean Professor of Astronomy, 
 Cambridge University; Author of " hi the 
 High Heavens," &c. With numerous 
 Portraits and lllustfations. 
 
 
 CONTENTS : 
 
 Ptolemy. 
 
 Wm. Herschel 
 
 Copernicus. 
 
 Laplace. 
 
 Tycho Brahe. 
 
 John Herschel, 
 
 Galileo. 
 
 Brlnkley. 
 
 Kepler. 
 
 Rosse. 
 
 Newton. 
 
 Airy. 
 
 Flamsteed. 
 
 Hamilton. 
 
 Halley. 
 
 Leverrier. 
 
 Bradley. 
 
 Adams. 
 
 Demy 8vo, gilt edges, 7s. 6d.
 
 Isbister's New Books 
 
 THE KNOWLEDGE OF 
 GOD. And other Sermons. 
 By J. H. BERNARD, D.D., Fellow 
 of Trinity College, Dublin. 
 
 Vol. XVlll. of "The Gospel and the Age" Series. 
 Crown Svo, gilt top, 3s. 6d. 
 
 THE LITERARY STUDY OF 
 THE BIBLE. An Account 
 of the Leading Forms of 
 Literature represented in the Sacred 
 Writings. By R. G. Moulton, m.a.. 
 
 Prof, of English Literature in the Uni- 
 versity of Chicago ; formerly Lecturer in 
 Literature under the Local Lectures 
 Syndicate of the University of Cambridge. 
 Demy 8vo, 10s. 6d. 
 
 FOUR YEARS OF NOVEL 
 READING. An Account of 
 an Experiment in Popular- 
 ising the Study of Fiction. Edited, 
 
 with an Introduction, by Prof. R. G. 
 Moulton, M.A. 
 
 Crown 8yo, 2s. 
 
 THE EDUCATIONAL IDEAL. 
 An Outline of its Growth 
 in Modern Times. By James 
 
 P. MUNROE. 
 
 Crown 8yo, 3s. 6cI.
 
 Isbister's New Books 
 
 GOOD WORDS. Volume 
 189^. Edited by the Rt. Rev. 
 DONALD MACLEOD, D.D., one 
 of H.M. Chaplains; Moderator of the 
 General Assembly of the Church of 
 
 Scotland. 
 
 Contents : 
 
 SERIAL STORIES. By 
 
 S. R. Crockett, Author of "The Raiders," occ. 
 W.Clark Russell, Author of "The Convict 
 Ship," &c. 
 
 BIOGRAPHY AND REMINISCENCES. By 
 
 The Dean of Durham, SirR. S. Ball, LL.D., 
 
 John Frederick Bridge, Mus.D., John 
 
 Murray, Rev. Canon Scott, M.A., Rev. 
 
 Cosmo Lang, M.A., and others. 
 
 LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC PAPERS. By 
 W. H. Preece, C.B., J. G. Buchanan, F.R.S., 
 R. Bowdler Sharpe, LL.D., William Can- 
 ton, Margaret Howitt, Hugh jNIacmillan, 
 D.D., E. M. Caillard, and others. 
 
 TRAVEL AND HISTORY. By 
 
 Prof. G. Adam Smith. D.D., The late Pre- 
 centor Venables, M.A., The Marquis of 
 Ormonde, The Very Rev. J. Cameron Lees, 
 D.D., William Sharp. The Editor, and 
 others. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. By 
 
 The Duke of Argyll, Prof. R. K. Douglas. 
 E. W. Streeter, F.R.G.S., Prof. Kennedy. 
 D.D., James Stalker, D.D., Sir Herbert 
 Maxwell, M.P., The Marquis of Lorne, 
 Prof. Story. D.D., E. S. Talbot. D.D.. 
 William Jolly, John Macleod, D.D.. Prof. 
 W. G. Blaikie, D.D.. Katharine Tynan 
 HiNKSON, and many others. 
 
 WITH 500 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 Royal 8yo, gilt edges, 7s. 6cl.
 
 Isbister's New Books 
 
 S 
 
 UN DAY MAGAZINE. Volume 
 
 189^. 
 
 Contents : 
 
 STORIES. By 
 
 Christabel Coleridge, Author of " Wayn- 
 flete," &c., Rev. Canon Atkinson. D.C.L., 
 Lucy Hardy, Janet Armstrong, Jaakoff 
 Prelooker, Lady Henry Somerset, and 
 others. 
 
 SUNDAY TALKS WITH THE YOUNG. By 
 
 The Dean of Ely, Rev. F. R. Burrows, 
 M.A., Rev. Martin Lewis, B.A., Rev. J. 
 Reid Howatt, Rev. W. J. Foxell, M.A., 
 Rev. Benjamin Waugh, and others. 
 
 BIBLICAL PAPERS. By 
 
 The Bishop of Ripon, Canon Scott Holland, 
 M.A., The Dean of Rochester, H. Mon- 
 tagu Butler, D.D., Rev. H. C. Shuttle- 
 worth, M.A., Rev. John Watson, M.A. 
 (Ian Maclaren), The late R, W. Dale, 
 LL.D., Alex. C. Maclaren, D.D., G. F. 
 Pentecost, D.D., F. T. Richards, M.A., 
 and others. 
 
 MISSIONARY WORK AND SOCIAL 
 MOVEMENTS. By 
 Rev. A. R. Buckland, M.A., Rev. T. C. 
 
 CoLLiNGS, Mrs. Boyd Carpenter, Rev. 
 
 Prebendary Harry Jones, M.A., A. W. W. 
 
 Dale, and others. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PAPERS. By 
 
 Rev. S. Baring-Gould, M.A., The Dean of 
 Salisbury, The late Precentor Venables, 
 M.A., F. J. Campbell, LL.D., Rev. Hugh 
 Price Hughes, M.A., W. J. Hardy, F.S.A., 
 William Wright, D.D., and many others. 
 
 WITH 11 COLOURED PLATES, AND 400 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Royal 8vo, gilt edges, 7s. 6d.
 
 Isbister's Recent Books 
 
 THE SCEPTICS OF THE OLD 
 TESTAMENT. Job, Koheleth, and 
 Agur. With a New English Text of Job 
 
 and Ecclesiastes. By E. J. Dillon, Magis- 
 trand of Oriental Languages, Imperial University, 
 St. Petersburg. 
 
 Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 " His discussion of the frobhms presented by the Scrip- 
 tures he hatidtes is a very real contribution to 
 Biblical learning."— 'Lvtkkakw World. 
 
 ON CHILDREN. By the late Right Rev. 
 A. W. Thorold, D.D.. Lord Bishop of Win- 
 chester. 
 
 Uni/oriii. ivith the above, by same Author, New Editions of 
 
 ON THE LOSS OF FRIENDS. 
 
 and 
 ON BEING ILL. 
 
 Fcap. 8vo, cloth, each Is. net. 
 " Three delightful booklets' — Christian World, 
 
 A GREAT INDISCRETION. A New 
 Story. By E. Everett-Green, Author 
 of " The Doctor's Dozen," &c. With Frontispiece. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " The story is charfning, and at times genuinely (•athetic " 
 
 BuiTisH Weekly. 
 
 N^ORTHWARD HO ! Stories of Car- 
 glen. By Alex Gordon. Author of " The 
 Folks o' Carglen." &c. With a Frontispiece. 
 Crown 8vo, 3s. 6cl. 
 
 "Studies of great power."— \\n Maclarkn, in British 
 Weekly. 
 
 TWENTY LITTLE MAIDENS. A 
 Story Book for the Young. By 
 
 Amy E. Blanchard. 
 
 With i6 full-page Illustrations by Ida Waugh. 
 
 Fcap. 4to, 3s. 6cl. 
 
 " These are delightful rn/M."— SrECTATOR,
 
 Isbister's Recent Books 
 
 SOCIALISM. By Robert Flint, D.D., 
 LL.D., &c., Prof, of Divinity, Edinburgh 
 University ; Author of "Theism," &c. 
 
 Third Thousand, Demy 8vo, 12s. 6d. 
 
 " Professor Flint desc->~'cs the gratitude of all social 
 students for the learning and industry, not to 
 speak of higher qualities, ivhich lie has devottd to 
 his task. His book is a mine of infortnatioti, and 
 is incisive and readable in style." — MANCHEbXER 
 Guardian. 
 
 TENNYSON. His Art and Relation 
 to Modern Life. By Stopford a. 
 
 Brooke, Author of "Early English Literature," 
 
 &c. 
 
 Fifth Thousand, demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 " It is not going too far to say that this book comes luithin 
 measurable distance of being the perfect study cj 
 Tennyson s work. " — Academy. 
 
 BIRDS OF THE WAVE AND 
 WOODLAND. By Phil Robinson, 
 Author of " The Poets' Birds," &c. 
 
 With Fifty Illustrations (several full-page) by 
 Charles Whymper. 
 
 Royal 8vo, gilt top, 10s. 6d. 
 
 " This is a perfectly delightful book."—^mTKH Weekly. 
 
 TEN-MINUTE SERMONS. BytheRev. 
 W. Robertson Nicoll, M.A., LL.D., 
 Editor of The Expositor, &c. 
 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " Each one of them is a thoughtful polished asay, as lofty 
 in tone as it is straig/itfor^uard and 7<igorous in 
 expression.' —GhASiiOVi Herald. 
 
 THE MESSAGE OF ISRAEL IN THE 
 LIGHT OF MODERN CRITI- 
 CISM. By Julia Wedgwood, Author of "The 
 Moral Ideal," &c. 
 
 Demy 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 ' ' As a whole it is a ziery noble combination ef the critical 
 and the devout." — Sfect atok.
 
 Isbister's Recent Books 
 
 THE INVISIBLE PLAYMATE. A 
 Story of the Unseen. By Wuliam 
 Canton, Author of "About Epic and other 
 Poems," &c. 
 
 Third Thousand, crown 8vo, Is. and 1s. 6d. 
 
 "It is quite tiniquc . . . shows real genius."— Svectkto'R. 
 
 THE SON OF MAN AMONG THE 
 SONS OF MEN. Studies on the 
 
 Influence of Christ on Character. By the 
 Rt. Rev. W. Boyd Carpenter, D.D., Lord Bishop 
 of Ripon. 
 
 Third Thousand, crown 8vo, gilt top, 5s. 
 "Stirring, striking, suggestive."— 'Tmzs. 
 
 GREATER LOVE. By Alexander 
 Gordon. And other Stories by Gilbert 
 PARKtR, Robert Barr, and others. With 
 numerous Illustrations. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. 
 
 "A charming selection of bright, crisp, and admirably 
 stlected stories."— ^iIkthodist Times. 
 
 THE TENDERNESS OF CHRIST. 
 By the late Rt. Rev. A. W. Thorold, D.D., 
 Lord Bishop of Winchester. 
 
 Fourth Thousand, crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 "Veals with questions of universal and abiding import. 
 . . . The Bishop's style has a rare charm. 
 
 Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 SCHOOL-BOY CONVERSATIONS. 
 French-English Dialogues, with 
 
 Annotations. By Robert Bufi, M.A. 
 
 With Introductory Note by Jules Buf, M.A. 
 Crown 8vo, Is. 
 »Ought to be widelyuseda^a,nca,iso/ imparting a sound 
 conversational knowledge of I'rcnch. - Lduca- 
 
 TIONAL ReCOKD.
 
 Isbister's Recent Books 
 
 IN THE HIGH HEAVENS. By Sir 
 
 I Robert S. Ball, LL.D., Lowndean Professor 
 of Astronomy, Cambridge University. With 
 numerous Illustrations. 
 
 Fifth Thousand, Med. 8vo, gilt edges, 7$. 6d. 
 
 " TJi* fresJust knovjledg€ and the best scientific thought.' 
 
 Scotsman. 
 
 THE PHANTOM BROTHER AND 
 THE CHILD. By Evelyn Everett 
 Green. And other Stories by L. T. Meade, 
 Sarah Doudney, and others. With Illustrations. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. 
 " Tk4se stories are, all of them, extremely good." — Lady. 
 
 F 
 
 RAGMENTS IN BASKETS. A Book 
 
 of Allegories. By Mrs. BovD Carpenter. 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top, 3c. 6d. 
 " This is a delightful book." — Literary World. 
 
 TAVISTOCK TALES. By Gilbert 
 Parker, Luke Sharp, G. B. BurGin, 
 Lance Falconer, and others. With numerous 
 Illustrations. 
 
 Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. 
 
 "A delightjttl vohiiiie of short stories, bright, interesting 
 and varied. " — Record. 
 
 A COMPLETE CATALOGUE 
 
 WILL BE SENT FREE BY POST ON APPLICATION TO 
 
 ISBISTER & CO.. Limited, 
 
 15 & 16 Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 r
 
 'RG2LWH-S 
 
 1 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 AA 000 606 666 6
 
 lii! 
 
 liii 
 
 iiiiHHi!i:M;i!ii!'i!iiiniii