by John Galt
CHAPTER LXI
I was conducted into a straight and dark chamber, and the cord wherewithmy hands were bound was untied, and a shackle put upon my right wrist;the flesh of my left was so galled with the cord, that the jailor wassoftened at the sight, and from the humanity of his own nature,refrained from placing the iron on it, lest the rust should fester thequick wound.
Then I was left alone in the gloomy solitude of the prison-room, and theponderous doors were shut upon me, and the harsh bolts driven with ahorrid grating noise, that caused my very bones to dinle. But even inthat dreadful hour an unspeakable consolation came with the freshness ofa breathing of the airs of paradise to my soul. Methought a wonderfullight shone around me, that I heard melodious voices bidding me be ofgood cheer, and that a vision of my saintly grandfather, in the gloriousvestments of his heavenly attire, stood before me, and smiled upon mewith that holy comeliness of countenance which has made his image in myremembrance ever that of the most venerable of men; so that, in the verydepth of what I thought would have been the pit of despair, I had adelightful taste of those blessed experiences of divine aid, by whichthe holy martyrs were sustained in the hours of trial, and cheeredamidst the torments in which they sealed the truth of their testimony.
After the favour of that sweet and celestial encouragement, I laidmyself down on a pallet in the corner of the room, and a gracious sleepdescended upon my eyelids, and steeped the sense and memory of my griefsin forgetfulness. When I woke the day was far spent, and the lightthrough the iron stainchers of the little window showed that the shadowsof the twilight were darkening over the world. I raised myself on myelbow, and listened to the murmur of the multitude that I heard stilllingering around the prison; and sometimes I thought that I discoveredthe voice of a friend.
In that situation, and thinking of all those dear cares which filled myheart with tenderness and fear, and of the agonising grief of my littleboy, the sound of whose cries still echoed in my bosom, I rose upon myknees and committed myself entirely to the custody of Him that can givethe light of liberty to the captive even in the gloom of the dungeon.And when I had done so I again prepared to lay myself on the ground; buta rustle in the darkness of the room drew my attention, and in the samemoment a kind hand was laid on mine.
"Sarah Lochrig," said I, for I knew my wife's gentle pressure,--"How isit that you are with me in this doleful place? How found you entrance,and I not hear you come in?"
But before she had time to make any answer, another's fond arms wereround my neck, and my affectionate young Michael wept upon my shoulder.
Bear with me, courteous reader, when I think of those things,--that wifeand that child, and all that I loved so fondly, are no more! But it isnot meet that I should yet tell how my spirit was turned into iron andmy heart into stone. Therefore will I still endeavour to relate, as withthe equanimity of one that writes but of indifferent things, whatfurther ensued during the thirteen days of my captivity.
Sarah Lochrig, with the mildness of her benign voice, when we hadmingled a few tears, told me that, after I went to Galloway with MarthaSwinton, she had been moved by our neighbours to come with our childreninto the town, as being safer for a lanerly woman and a family leftwithout its head; and a providential thing it was that she had done so;for on the very night that my brother came off with the men of theparish to join us, as I have noted down in its proper place, a gang ofdragoons plundered both his house and mine; and but that our treasureshad been timeously removed, his family having also gone that day intoKilmarnock, the outrages might have been unspeakable.
We then had some household discourse, anent what was to be done in theevent of things coming to the worst with me; and it was an admiration tohear with what constancy of reason, and the gifts of a supportedjudgment, that Gospel-hearted woman spoke of what she would do with herchildren, if it was the Lord's pleasure to honour me with the crown ofmartyrdom.
"But," said she, "I hae an assurance within that some great thing is yetin store for you, though the hope be clouded with a doubt that I'll nobe spar't to see it, and therefore let us not despond at this time, butuse the means that Providence may afford to effect your deliverance."
While we were thus conversing together the doors of the prison-room wereopened, and a man was let in who had a cruisie in the one hand and abasket in the other. He was lean and pale-faced, bordering on fortyyears, and of a melancholy complexion; his eye was quick, deep set, anda thought wild; his long hair was carefully combed smooth, and hisapparel was singularly well composed for a person of his degree.
Having set down the lamp on the floor, he came in a very reverentialmanner towards where I was sitting, with my right hand fettered to theground, between Sarah Lochrig and Michael our son, and he said, with aremarkable and gentle simplicity of voice, in the Highland accent, thathe had been requested by a righteous woman, Provost Reid's wife, tobring me a bottle of cordial wine and some little matters that I mightrequire for bodily consolation.
"It's that godly creature, Willie Sutherland, the hangman," said mywife. "Though Providence has dealt hardly with him, poor man, in thislife, every body says he has gotten arles of a servitude in gloryhereafter."
When he had placed the basket at the knees of Michael, he retired to acorner of the room, and stood in the shadow, with his face turnedtowards the wall, saying, "I'm concern't that it's no in my power toleave you to yoursels till Mungo Robeson come back, for he has lockit mein, but I'll no hearken to what ye may say;" and there was a modesty ofmanner in the way that he said this, which made me think it not possiblehe could be of so base a vocation as the public executioner, and Iwhispered my opinion of him to Sarah Lochrig. It was, however, the case;and verily in the life and conduct of that simple and pious man therewas a manifestation of the truth, that to him whom the Lord favours itsignifieth not whatsoever his earthly condition may be.
After I had partaken with my wife and son of some refreshment which theyhad brought with them, and tasted of the wine that Provost Reid's ladyhad sent, we heard the bolts of the door drawn, and the clanking ofkeys, at which Willie Sutherland came forward from the corner where hehad stood during the whole time, and lifting the lamp from the floor,and wetting his fore-finger with spittle as he did so, he trimmed thewick, and said, "The time's come when a' persons not prisoners mustdepart forth the tolbooth for the night; but, Master Gilhaize, be nonediscomforted thereat, your wife and your little one will come back inthe morning, and your lot is a lot of pleasure; for is it not written inthe book of Ecclesiastes, fourth and eighth, 'There is one alone, andthere is not a second; yea, he hath neither child nor brother?' and suchan one am I."
The inner door was thrown open, and Mungo Robeson, looking in, said, "Iwae to molest you, but ye'll hae to come out, Mrs Gilhaize." So thatnight we were separated; and when Sarah Lochrig was gone, I could notbut offer thanksgiving that my lines had fallen in so pleasant a place,compared with the fate of my poor brother, suffering among strangers inthe doleful prison of Glasgow, under the ravenous eyes of the prelate ofthat city, then scarcely less hungry for the bodies of the faithful andthe true, than even the apostate James Sharp himself.