walk a step farther. We must try to get her ahorse, and let her journey along with some o' the armed bands thatattended the conventicle at Skeoch Hill. They will be sure to bereturning this way in a day or two."
"You are right," said the minister who has already been introduced, andwho overheard the concluding remark as he came forward. "The armed menwill be passing this way in a day or two, and we will take good care ofyour mother, young sir, while she remains with us."
"Just so," rejoined Spence. "I'll see to that; so, nephew, you and yourcomrade Quentin may continue your journey with easy minds. You'll needall your caution to avoid being taken up and convicted, for the tyrantsare in such a state of mind just now that if a man only _looks_independent they suspect him, and there is but a short road betweensuspicion and the gallows now."
"Humph! we'll be as innocent-lookin' an' submissive as bairns," remarkedQuentin Dick, with a grim smile on his lips and a frown on his brow thatwere the reverse of childlike.
Convinced that Spence's arrangement for his mother's safety was the bestin the circumstances, Wallace left her, though somewhat reluctantly, inthe care of the outlawed Covenanters, and resumed his journey with theshepherd after a few hours' rest.
Proceeding with great caution, they succeeded in avoiding the soldierswho scoured the country until, towards evening, while crossing a risingground they were met suddenly by two troopers. A thicket and bend inthe road had, up to that moment, concealed them from view. Levelgrass-fields bordered the road on either side, so that successful flightwas impossible.
"Wull ye fecht?" asked Quentin, in a quick subdued voice.
"Of course I will," returned Wallace.
"Ca' canny at first, then. Be humble an' _awfu'_ meek, till I say`_Noo_!'"
The troopers were upon them almost as soon as this was uttered.
"Ho! my fine fellows," exclaimed one of them, riding up to Quentin withdrawn sword, "fanatics, I'll be bound. Where from and where away now?"
"We come, honoured sir, frae Irongray, an' we're gaun to Ed'nbury t' buycattle," answered Quentin with downcast eyes.
"Indeed, oho! then you must needs have the cash wherewith to buy thecattle. Where is it?"
"In ma pooch," said the shepherd with a deprecating glance at hispocket.
"Hand it over, then, my good fellow. Fanatics are not allowed to havemoney or to purchase cattle nowadays."
"But, honoured sir, we're no fannyteeks. We're honest shepherds."
The lamb-like expression of Quentin Dick's face as he said this was suchthat Wallace had considerable difficulty in restraining an outburst oflaughter, despite their critical position. He maintained his gravity,however, and firmly grasped his staff, which, like that of hiscompanion, was a blackthorn modelled somewhat on the pattern of the clubof Hercules.
"Here, Melville," said the first trooper, "hold my horse while I easethis `honest shepherd' of his purse."
Sheathing his sword, he drew a pistol from its holster, and, handing thereins to his companion, dismounted.
"NOO!" exclaimed Quentin, bringing his staff down on the trooper's ironheadpiece with a terrific thwack. Like a flash of lightning the club ofWallace rang and split upon that of the other horseman, who fellheadlong to the ground.
Strong arms have seldom occasion to repeat a well-delivered blow. Whilethe soldiers lay prone upon the road their startled horses galloped backthe way they had come.
"That's unfort'nit," said Quentin. "Thae twa look like anadvance-gaird, an' if so, the main body'll no be lang o' gallopin' up tosee what's the maitter. It behoves us to rin!"
The only port of refuge that appeared to them as they looked quicklyround was a clump of trees on a ridge out of which rose the spire of achurch.
"The kirk's but a puir sanctuary nooadays," remarked the shepherd, as heset off across the fields at a quick run, "but it's oor only chance."
They had not quite gained the ridge referred to when the danger thatQuentin feared overtook them. A small company of dragoons was seengalloping along the road.
"We may gain the wood before they see us," suggested Will Wallace.
"If it _was_ a wud I wadna care for the sodgers," replied his comrade,"but it's only a bit plantation. We'll jist mak' for the manse an' hideif we can i' the coal-hole or some place."
As he spoke a shout from the troopers told that they had been seen, andseveral of them leaving the road dashed across the field in pursuit.
Now, it chanced that at that quiet evening hour the young curate of thedistrict, the Reverend Frank Selby, was enjoying a game of quoits with aneighbouring curate, the Reverend George Lawless, on a piece of groundat the rear of the manse. The Reverend Frank was a genial Lowlander ofthe muscular type. The Reverend George was a renegade Highland-man ofthe cadaverous order. The first was a harum-scarum young pastor with abe-as-jolly-as-you-can spirit, and had accepted his office at therecommendation of a relative in power. The second was a mean-spiritedwolf in sheep's clothing, who, like his compatriot Archbishop Sharp, hadsold his kirk and country as well as his soul for what he deemed somepersonal advantage. As may well be supposed, neither of those curateswas a shining light in the ministry.
"Missed again! I find it as hard to beat you, Lawless, as I do to getmy parishioners to come to church," exclaimed the Reverend Frank with agood-humoured laugh as his quoit struck the ground and, having beenbadly thrown, rolled away.
"That's because you treat your quoits carelessly, as you treat yourparishioners," returned the Reverend George, as he made a magnificentthrow and ringed the tee.
"Bravo! that's splendid!" exclaimed Selby.
"Not bad," returned Lawless. "You see, you want more decision with thethrow--as with the congregation. If you will persist in refusing toreport delinquents and have them heavily fined or intercommuned, youmust expect an empty church. Mine is fairly full just now, and I haveweeded out most of the incorrigibles."
"I will never increase my congregation by such means, and I have no wishto weed out the incorrigibles," rejoined Selby, becoming grave as hemade another and a better throw.
At that moment our fugitive shepherds, dashing round the corner of themanse, almost plunged into the arms of the Reverend Frank Selby. Theypulled up, panting and uncertain how to act.
"You seem in haste, friends," said the curate, with an urbane smile.
"Oot o' the fryin'-pan into the fire!" growled Quentin, grasping hisstaff and setting his teeth.
"If you will condescend to explain the frying-pan I may perhaps relieveyou from the fire," said Selby with emphasis.
Wallace observed the tone and grasped at the forlorn hope.
"The dragoons are after us, sir," he said eagerly; "unless you can hideus we are lost!"
"If you are honest men," interrupted the Reverend George Lawless, withextreme severity of tone and look, "you have no occasion to hide--"
"Bub we're _not_ honest men," interrupted Quentin in a spirit of almosthilarious desperation, "we're fannyteeks,--rebels,--Covenanters,--borneediots--"
"Then," observed Lawless, with increasing austerity, "you richlydeserve--"
"George!" said the Reverend Frank sharply, "you are in my parish justnow, and I expect you to respect my wishes. Throw your plaids, sticks,and bonnets behind that bush, my lads--well out of sight--so. Now, castyour coats, and join us in our game."
The fugitives understood and swiftly obeyed him. While they werehastily stripping off their coats Selby took his brother curate aside,and, looking him sternly in the face, said--"Now, George Lawless, if youby word or look interfere with my plans, I will give you cause to repentit to the latest day of your life."
If any one had seen the countenance of the Reverend George at thatmoment he would have observed that it became suddenly clothed with anair of meekness that was by no means attractive.
At the time we write of, any curate might, with the assistance of thesoldiers, fine whom he pleased, and as much as he pleased, or he might,by reporting a parishioner an absentee from public w
orship, consign himor her to prison, or even to the gallows. But though all the curateswere in an utterly false position they were not all equally depraved.Selby was one who felt more or less of shame at the contemptible part hewas expected to play.
When the troopers came thundering round the corner of the manse a fewminutes later, Quentin Dick, in his shirt sleeves, was in the act ofmaking a beautiful throw, and Will Wallace was watching him withinterest. Even the Reverend George seemed absorbed in the game, for hefelt that the eyes of the Reverend Frank were upon him.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," said the officer in command of the soldiers,"did you see two shepherds run past here?"
"No," answered the Reverend Frank with a candid smile, "I saw noshepherds run past here."
"Strange!" returned the officer, "they seemed to enter your shrubberyand to disappear near the house."
"Did you see the path that diverges to the left and takes down to thethicket in the hollow?" asked Selby.
"Yes, I did, but they seemed to have passed that when we lost sight ofthem."
"Let me advise you to try it now," said Selby.
"I will," replied the officer, wheeling his horse round and gallopingoff, followed by his men.
"Now, friends, I have relieved you from the fire, as I promised," saidthe Reverend Frank, turning to the shepherds; "see that you don't getinto the frying-pan again. Whether you deserve hanging or not is bestknown to yourselves. To say truth, you don't look like it, but, judgingfrom appearance, I should think that in these times you're not unlikelyto get it. On with your coats and plaids and be off as fast as youcan--over the ridge yonder. In less than half-an-hour you'll be inDenman's Dean, where a regiment of cavalry would fail to catch you."
"We shall never forget you--"
"There, there," interrupted the Reverend Frank, "be off. The trooperswill soon return. I've seen more than enough of hanging, quartering,and shooting to convince me that Presbytery is not to be rooted out, norPrelacy established, by such means. Be off, I say!"
Thus urged, the fugitives were not slow to avail themselves of theopportunity, and soon were safe in Denman's Dean.
"Now, Lawless," said the Reverend Frank in a cheerful tone, "myconscience, which has been depressed of late, feels easier this evening.Let us go in to supper; and _remember_ that no one knows about thisincident except you--and I. So, there's no chance of its goingfurther."
"The two rebels know it," suggested Lawless.
"No, they don't!" replied the other airily. "They have quite forgottenit by this time, and even if it should recur to memory their owninterest and gratitude would seal their lips--so we're quite safe, youand I; quite safe--come along."
Our travellers met with no further interruption until they reachedEdinburgh. It was afternoon when they arrived, and, entering by theroad that skirts the western base of the Castle rock, proceeded towardsthe Grassmarket.
Pushing through the crowd gathered in that celebrated locality, Quentinand Wallace ascended the steep street named Candlemaker Row, which ledand still leads to the high ground that has since been connected withthe High Street by George the Fourth Bridge. About half-way up theascent they came to a semicircular projection which encroached somewhaton the footway. It contained a stair which led to the interior of oneof the houses. Here was the residence of Mrs. Black, the mother of ourfriend Andrew. The good woman was at home, busily engaged with herknitting needles, when her visitors entered.
A glance sufficed to show Wallace whence Andrew Black derived his grave,quiet, self-possessed character, as well as his powerful frame andcourteous demeanour.
She received Quentin Dick, to whom she was well known, with a mixture ofgoodwill and quiet dignity.
"I've brought a freend o' Mr. Black's to bide wi' ye for a wee while, ifye can take him in," said Quentin, introducing his young companion as"Wull Wallace."
"I'm prood to receive an' welcome ony freend o' my boy Andry," returnedthe good woman, with a slight gesture that would have become a duchess.
"Ay, an' yer son wants ye to receive Wallace's mither as weel. She'lllikely be here in a day or twa. She's been sair persecooted of late,puir body, for she's a staunch upholder o' the Covenants."
There have been several Covenants in Scotland, the most importanthistorically being the National Covenant of 1638, and the Solemn Leagueand Covenant of 1643. It was to these that Quentin referred, and tothese that he and the great majority of the Scottish people clung withintense, almost superstitious veneration; and well they might, for theseCovenants--which some enthusiasts had signed with their blood--containednearly all the principles which lend stability and dignity to a people--such as a determination to loyally stand by and "defend the King," and"the liberties and laws of the kingdom," to have before the eyes "theglory of God, the advancement of the kingdom of our Lord and SaviourJesus Christ, the honour and happiness of the King and his posterity, aswell as the safety and peace of the people; to preserve the rights andprivileges of Parliament, so that arbitrary and unlimited power shouldnever be suffered to fall into the hands of rulers, and to vindicate andmaintain the liberties of the subjects in all these things which concerntheir consciences, persons, and estates." In short, it was a testimonyfor constitutional government in opposition to absolutism.
Such were the principles for which Mrs. Black contended with aresolution equal, if not superior, to that of her stalwart son; so thatit was in a tone of earnest decision that she assured her visitors thatnothing would gratify her more than to receive a woman who had sufferedpersecution for the sake o' the Master an' the Covenants. She thenushered Wallace and Quentin Dick into her little parlour--a humble butneatly kept apartment, the back window of which--a hole not much morethan two feet square--commanded a view of the tombstones and monumentsof Greyfriars' Churchyard.
CHAPTER SIX.
TELLS OF OVERWHELMING REVERSES.
Mrs. Black was a woman of sedate character and considerable knowledgefor her station in life--especially in regard to Scripture. Like herson she was naturally grave and thoughtful, with a strong tendency toanalyse, and to inquire into the nature and causes of things. UnlikeAndrew, however, all her principles and her creed were fixed and welldefined--at least in her own mind, for she held it to be the boundenduty of every Christian to be ready at all times to give a "reason" forthe hope that is in him, as well as for every opinion that he holds.Her natural kindness was somewhat concealed by slight austerity ofmanner.
She was seated, one evening, plying her ever active needle, at the samesmall window which overlooked the churchyard. The declining sun wasthrowing dark shadows across the graves. A ray of it gleamed on acorner of the particular tombstone which, being built against her house,slightly encroached upon her window. No one was with the old woman savea large cat, to whom she was in the habit of addressing occasionalremarks of a miscellaneous nature, as if to relieve the tedium ofsolitude with the fiction of intercourse.
"Ay, pussie," she said, "ye may weel wash yer face an' purr, for there'snae fear o' _you_ bein' dragged before Airchbishop Sherp to hae yerthoombs screwed, or yer legs squeezed in the--"
She stopped abruptly, for heavy footsteps were heard on the spiralstair, and next moment Will Wallace entered.
"Well, Mrs. Black," he said, sitting down in front of her, "it's allsettled with Bruce. I'm engaged to work at his forge, and have alreadybegun business."
"So I see, an' ye look business-like," answered the old woman, with avery slight smile, and a significant glance at our hero's costume.
A considerable change had indeed taken place in the personal appearanceof Will Wallace since his arrival in Edinburgh, for in place of theshepherd's garb, with which he had started from the "bonnie hills ofGalloway," he wore the leathern apron and other habiliments of ablacksmith. Moreover his hair had been allowed to grow in luxuriantnatural curls about his head, and as the sun had bronzed him during hisresidence with Black, and a young beard and moustache had begun toassert themselves in premature vigour, his w
hole aspect was that of agrand heroic edition of his former self.
"Yes, the moment I told your friend," said Wallace, "that you had sentme to him, and that I was one of those who had good reason to concealmyself from observation, he gave me a hearty shake of the hand andaccepted my offer of service; all the more that, having already someknowledge of his craft, I did not require teaching. So he gave me anapron and set me to work at once. I came straight from the forge justas I left off work to see what you would think of my disguise."
"Ye'll do, ye'll do," returned Mrs. Black, with a nod of approval. "Yerface an' hands need mair washin' than my pussie gies her nose! Butwheesht! I hear a fit on the stair. It'll be Quentin Dick. I sent himoot for a red herrin' or twa for supper."
As she spoke, Quentin entered with a brown paper parcel, the contents ofwhich were made patent by means of scent without the aid of sight.
The shepherd seemed a little disconcerted at sight of a stranger, for,as Wallace stood up, the light did not fall on his face; but a secondglance sufficed to enlighten him.
"No' that bad," he said,
Hunted and Harried Page 10