Adam Hepburn's Vow: A Tale of Kirk and Covenant

  *CHAPTER IV.*

  *THE MINISTER'S CHILDREN.*

  The farm of Hartrigge, where abode the minister's eldest son, was one ofthe largest holdings on the estate of Inverburn. Andrew Gray hadentered it on his marriage, seventeen years before, and was thereforedrawing near the expiry of his lease. Having been trained as apractical farmer, he had converted the somewhat poverty-stricken acresinto rich and fertile soil. He was a careful, prudent man himself, and,having married Susan Baillie (the daughter of the farmer under whom hehad learned his business), one eminently fitted to be a true helpmeet tohim in every way, he was a prosperous, and might even be called a richman.

  In disposition he was not nearly so lovable as his brother, the ministerof Broomhill. He was by nature rather harsh and stern, and, though hisanger was not easily kindled, it was a slow and deadly fire which didnot quickly burn out. Had his wife not been of a singularly sweet andamiable temperament, Hartrigge would not have been such a happy,peaceable household as it was. And yet Andrew Gray was a sincerely goodman, rather austere in his religious views, perhaps, but ardentlyattached to the Church of Scotland, and passionately jealous regardingall her ancient privileges. Four children had blessed Hartrigge withthe sunshine of their presence--Gavin, the eldest; then Jane, a quietdouce maiden of fourteen; then merry, rattling Sandy; and sweet,winsome, gentle-eyed little Agnes, whom they called Nannie, todistinguish her from her namesake aunt at Rowallan.

  Hartrigge was distant about two miles from the manse, the road leadingin a southerly direction through rich and beautiful scenery, exquisitelyvaried by all the changing tints of spring. Here the tender, delicategreen of the beech showed in sharp relief against some sombre fir; againthe silver buds on the chestnut gleamed side by side with the brighterhue of the larch and the mountain ash. Cowslip and daisy dotted everygrassy slope, and the hedgerows already were gleaming white withhawthorn bloom--so early had the summer burst in fragrance on the earth.

  About a mile beyond the massive stone gateway which gave entrance to thegrounds surrounding the mansion-house of Inverburn, a low white gateshut out intruders from the private road leading to Hartrigge. Thisfamiliar barrier Donald took at a bound, and in five minutes afterwardswas galloping round the path which cut through the fir wood surroundingthe house. It was a substantial dwelling, of plain and sober aspect,befitting its inmates, and, though there was ample garden ground infront, there were no flowers blooming sweetly as in the manse garden.Everything was austerely neat, simple, and plain. Gavin rode the ponyround to the kitchen door, and, dismounting, tied the rein to aprojecting hook placed in the wall for that purpose. Then he boundedinto the house, It was milking-time, and the maids were in the byre(cowhouse), and he knew that his mother would be upstairs putting theyounger ones to bed, for everything moved by clockwork in that mostmethodical of houses. The sound of voices in the ben-end (parlour)proclaimed that his father was giving Jeanie her evening lesson, whichGavin boldly interrupted.

  "Grandfather sent me to bid mother and you come to the manse, father,"he said, impetuously. "Mr. Guthrie from Stirling is here, and would liketo see you. And I am to go to Rowallan and tell Uncle Adam and AuntAgnes to be ready to drive down with you when you come for them."

  Andrew Gray closed his book and rose to his feet, with a gleam ofinterest brightening his rugged face. He was a tall, broad-shoulderedman, whose physique was suggestive of giant strength, while his keen,stern black eye and massive jaw indicated an indomitable will. He wasplainly dressed in rough homespun, and looked what he was--asubstantial, well-to-do Clydesdale farmer.

  "Mr. James Guthrie! Surely his coming was not anticipated, Gavin," hesaid in tones of surprise. "Was your grandfather very pressing? It issomewhat late to leave the house to-night."

  "Yes; I believe it is something special, father, and I must away. Well,Jeanie, have you learned to milk Mysie yet?" he added, teasingly, to thequiet-faced little maiden, who was being initiated into all thehousehold ways.

  "Yes, I can milk her fine, Gavin, all but the strippings!" she answered,proudly. "Are you going away already?"

  At that moment Mrs. Gray, having heard Gavin's voice upstairs, enteredthe room. She was a comely, pleasant-faced woman, with shrewd, greyeyes, in which shone a kindly, and at times very humorous gleam. Shelooked very young to be the mother of her tall son, for her figure waswell preserved, and even graceful, her cheeks red and bonnie, as theyhad been in her girlhood. She appeared much pleased to hear of theinvitation to the manse, and at once said they could go, for Sandy andNannie were asleep, and Margaret, the more responsible of the two maids,could very well see to the house in their absence. So after anotherteasing word to Jeanie, a run upstairs to look at Sandy and Nanniesleeping in their beds, Gavin mounted Donald again, and turned his headinto the field-path which led straight to Rowallan.

  If Hartrigge was noted for its simplicity and absence of all outeradornments, Rowallan was renowned for the exquisite beauty of itsnatural situation and surroundings, as well as for the taste with whichthe little garden was laid out and kept.

  Hartrigge stood upon a somewhat bleak and barren hill. Rowallan wassheltered in a cosy hollow, protected on every side from every wind thatblew. It also formed a part of the lands of Inverburn, but wasconsiderably smaller in extent than its neighbour.

  And yet it had sufficed as a dwelling-place and livelihood for theHepburns for generations. There had been an Adam Hepburn in Rowallan asfar back as the country folk could remember or tell, and an Adam Hepburnof Rowallan had left his ploughshare at the call of patriotism, and hadmet his death on the fateful field of Flodden; an Adam Hepburn hadsigned the Covenant at Edinburgh, three-and-twenty years before, andthough he was now gathered to his fathers, there was an Adam Hepburn inRowallan still. True friends and generous foes the Hepburns had everbeen, faithful to their plighted word, scorning the very name ofmeanness or dishonour. A wild, passionate impetuous temper was thefamily failing, and yet for deeds done, or words spoken in the heat ofanger, they were ever ready to make amends. Although Adam Hepburn wasmarried to Agnes Gray, her brother Andrew, at Hartrigge, had never takenkindly to him. Both were good men, and yet there was a strange antipathybetween them, and it was better that they should not meet often. Therewas nothing of rigid solemn austerity about Adam Hepburn, and he oftenindulged in good-humoured banter against his brother-in-law's solemnity;yet none could have a truer reverence for things divine than AdamHepburn. Under the gay exterior there was a deeper, more earnestcurrent of feeling, which kept him in the paths of righteousness andpeace. Both Uncle Adam and Aunt Agnes were almost worshipped by theyoung folk at Hartrigge, and also by the little Hepburns, the childrenof Adam's brother, who was a well-to-do merchant in the town of Lanark.Even manse Donald himself seemed to know and love the way to Rowallan,for he fairly capered and whinnied with delight when he came in sight ofthe cosy homestead at the foot of its sheltering hill. It was indeed asweet spot. The house was whitewashed, and built in a low, ramblingstyle, with many a quaint gable and window, about which crept green andlovely creepers, as well as time-honoured honeysuckle and wild-rose. Alittle lawn in front sloped down to a broad swift-running stream, whichhad its being in the hill to the east of the house, and which dancedmerrily over its pebbly bed on its way to join the noble Clyde. In thestillness of the April evening its bosom was broken by many a circlingeddy, where the lusty trout leaped up to catch the buzzing insects whichhummed in the drowsy air.

  Catching sight of his aunt standing in the doorway, Gavin waved his cap,a salutation to which she replied by fluttering her white handkerchiefin the breeze. And as if in response to a word from her, her husbandjoined her outside, and they came slowly along the path to meet themessenger. They were a goodly pair. Adam Hepburn stood six feet in hisstockings, and his tall figure was well-built and splendidlyproportioned, while his fine head, with its clustering, chestnut curls,was set firmly on his shoulders, giving the idea of strength andresol
ution as well as manly beauty. His face was sunny, open, andhonest as the day; his keen, blue eye, with its humorous gleam, his firmyet tender mouth, redeemed the face from any harshness which thestrongly-marked features might otherwise have given. His wife hadfulfilled all the gentle promise of her girlhood. She was a sweet, shy,shrinking woman, such as makes the sunshine of home for one, but who islost sight of in the busier ways of life. She was like the gentlelily-of-the-vale, breathing forth in her quiet life an unseen butexquisite perfume, which shed its influence on all around it. Of herhusband's strong, deep, yearning love for her I cannot write; it was thepassion of his life, and she was indeed the very desire of his heart andthe apple of his eye. And she loved him, if less demonstratively, astruly and tenderly as such women do.

  "Hullo, youngster, how have you and Donald managed to escape from themanse so late?" queried Uncle Adam when the pony and its rider werewithin a hundred yards or so of them, while Aunt Agnes gently hoped thathe brought no bad news. Gavin delivered his message, which seemed to bevery acceptable to both, and they signified their willingness andpleasure to prepare themselves against the arriving of the conveyancefrom Hartrigge. Then he turned Donald's head once more, and trottedrapidly back to the manse. About eight of the clock the conveyancearrived also, and all the minister's family with the exception of David,whose absence all deplored, were gathered under his roof-tree. Mr.Guthrie had not yet seen the husband whom Agnes Gray had married, and hewas greatly taken with his pleasant manner and fine open face. Of thedaughters of the manse the younger had ever been his favourite, becauseshe reminded him of a dear sister of his own he had lost in early life.After the usual greetings, the talk turned upon the one absorbing topicof interest--the Church and her affairs, together with the evil doingsof the two men, Middleton and Sharp, who held in their hands the reinsof Scottish Government, and who seemed determined to exercise theirpower to the suppression of both civil and religious liberty in theland.

  While the minister of Stirling fearlessly expressed his opinionregarding these matters, for all under the roof-tree of the manse weretrue as steel, it might have been observed with what deep and breathlessinterest Andrew Gray of Hartrigge hung upon every word, and how, at somerevelation of tyranny and injustice hitherto unknown to him, he clenchedhis hands, and the veins on his forehead stood out like knotted cords.It was easy to see that when the approaching crisis came he would befound in the hottest forefront of the battle.

  "I am of opinion, my friends, that there should be a day set apart forthe nation to humble herself before the God of nations, lest it bethrough any backsliding or lukewarmness of her own that these ominousthings are happening in her midst," said the minister, thoughtfully;"there had need to be a reviving of the covenanting spirit among us. Inthese times how many are sitting at their ease in Zion, while her verybulwarks are assailed by the sons of Belial."

  "Could you not move such a resolution at the first meeting of yourPresbytery, Mr. Guthrie, an example which I also would follow upon theeighteenth of May in my own Presbytery of Lanark?" suggested theminister of Inverburn.

  Mr. Guthrie remained for a few minutes silent, while his countenancewore an expression of deep seriousness and settled conviction.

  "If I be still in the body and at liberty, brother, I will indeed actupon your suggestion," he said at length.

  "Why, Mr. Guthrie, do you fear that you may be laid hands on?" quothAdam Hepburn, impetuously. "Surely the ill men in power would neverventure upon sic an offence."

  "There is no offence too heinous to be committed by those who sell theirsouls to Satan, young man," said the minister, mildly. "Will you bringthe Book, Miss Jane, and we will comfort ourselves for a little seasonwith the precious Word of His grace. It may be the last time we willhave so sweet a privilege together."

  Nothing loth, Jane Gray lifted the Book from its honoured place and laidit before the minister of Stirling. He read an appropriate portion ofScripture, and commented thereon in his own eloquent and persuasivestyle. Then the minister of Inverburn led the devotions of the littlegathering, and so devout and impressive were these exercises that allfelt that Jesus was indeed Himself in their midst. The memory of thatnight remained very sweet and precious in their hearts when Mr.Guthrie's prediction was fulfilled, and there were few opportunities forChristian fellowship permitted to God's people. When they parted forthe night Mr. Guthrie bade them all a solemn farewell, knowing in hisinmost heart that they should meet no more on earth.