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

  *CHAPTER XV.*

  *BRAVE TO THE LAST.*

  Meanwhile Adam Hepburn had stolen across the fields to the glen with theintention of entering the hole in the Corbie's Cliff. He was making hisway down the hill-side, keeping cautiously in shelter of the whins andbracken, for the dragoons were in sight, when, to his no smallamazement, he saw the two ministers and Andrew Gray of Hartrigge emergefrom the mouth of the subterranean passage with a haste which proclaimedthat they were pursued. And now truly the poor fugitives were betwixttwo fires, for there were dragoons scattered all over the surroundinghills, and some were so near that it was a marvel they were not at oncediscovered. They had to thank the luxuriance of the brushwood andtangle for affording them a shelter, and, if they could but remainunobserved till nightfall, they could then seek a safer hiding. AdamHepburn crawled upon his hands and knees down through the thicket, andcame up with the others, as they were creeping slowly along, hoping toreach the steep hill behind Hartrigge, where the cave was stillundiscovered.

  "We were betrayed in our hiding, and were only warned in time to flee bythe noise overhead," whispered Andrew Gray. "See yonder!"

  Lifting their heads the fugitives saw three dragoons emerge from themouth of the Corbie's Cliff and look all round them, as if expecting tosee those for whom they sought. In mortal terror the miserableCovenanters laid themselves flat down on their faces and pulled thefriendly bracken over them, and waited breathlessly, thinking thedragoons would be certain to scour the entire glen.

  "If they come I think I could silence the three," said Adam Hepburn,grimly; "only they might, by their cries, bring some of their mountedcomrades upon us. They are not far distant, I trow, for I can hear theneighing of their horses even here."

  After a few minutes' suspense, the anxious fugitives saw the dragoonsre-enter the mouth of the cave; then they slowly crept yet a littlefarther along the glen, for every moment spent in this comparativelyexposed place was not only precious, but laden with deadly peril. Atlength they arrived unmolested at the base of the steep hill behindHartrigge, and, as it was crowned with a thick belt of fir trees, therewas no fear of them being seen from above.

  The minister of Inverburn, whose feeble strength was now utterly spentthrough excitement and suspense, had to be half carried up the rockyascent, but at length all landed safely in the cave. It was but a smallplace, and very damp; a great contrast in every way to the comfortablehiding at Rowallan. After having recovered a little from his fatigue,the minister of Inverburn folded his hands and returned thanks for theirdeliverance; but Adam Hepburn sat gloomily in a corner, his handsgrasping his sword, for it was foreign to his nature to flee before theenemy, and he felt as if he had sullied his manhood by desertingRowallan, and leaving Jane Gray to encounter the dragoons alone. Andyet there are times when even the bravest soldier is forced to admitthat discretion is the better part of valour.

  Meanwhile the body of dragoons, under command of Captain Ingram, who hadridden up to the glen to disperse the conventicle, baulked of theirprey, had proceeded to Hartrigge, it being the only house in view.Captain Ingram was a very different man from his brother officer, whohad so peaceably performed his duty at Rowallan. He was of a short,burly figure, with a countenance much swollen and disfigured by hisdrunken excesses, and his fiery eye gave some expression to the fierceand choleric nature of his temper. He was utterly void of one kindlyfeeling or generous impulse, and his troops were famous for their brutaland disgraceful behaviour, it being said of them that they showed nomercy to man, woman, or child.

  Mistress Gray, who with her son, Gavin, had been present at theconventicle, had been in the house some little time before the dragoonssurrounded Hartrigge.

  The little ones, who had remained at home under charge of Jeanie, whowas growing more sensible and womanly every day, began to cry at sightof the soldiers, remembering the occasion of their former visit, and howtheir father had been carried off as a prisoner. Gavin, however,exhibited his usual fearless spirit, and ran to the kitchen cupboard forthe old fowling-piece; yet, poor lad, what could he do with it, againstthe powerful arms of a company of dragoons? Captain Ingram did nottrouble to alight, but thundered at the door of the house with thebutt-end of his musket, a summons which brought Mistress Graytremblingly to the threshold.

  "Hey, mistress! is this not the house of that vile renegade, AndrewGray, son of the notorious field-preacher, the minister of Inverburn?"he asked, fiercely.

  "It is the house of Andrew Gray," she made answer, sadly. "And I wouldthat he were within its walls. They have not sheltered him these manyweary days."

  "Are you his wife? and are these his brats?" asked the Captain, pointingto the little ones clinging to her skirts.

  She bowed her head, but made no verbal reply.

  "Come, tell me, mistress, were you at the field preaching down in theglen yonder, listening to the snivelling of that old renegade, yourhusband's father?"

  "I was there, sir," Susan Gray made answer, firmly, for she saw that itwould be useless to deny it.

  "Good! we have come upon one Whig dame at last who can speak the truth,"said the Captain, in tones of satisfaction. "Come, oblige me stillfurther, mistress, and give me the names of those who were presentbesides yourself."

  "I went to listen to the preaching of the Word, sir, and not to countthose who were present," answered Susan Gray, with fearless firmness.

  "Well, if you will not tell me that, let me know the secret hiding ofthose who conducted the service. Come, now, mistress, you are completelyin my power, and if you do not speak of your own free will, I may takemeasures to make you," said the Captain, significantly.

  "I cannot tell whither they have fled, sir. I was too much taken upmaking my own escape, to look to them," she answered quietly.

  "Just so. With your permission, mistress, we will have a look throughthe house, and if any of the renegades be found within, by the powers, Iwill punish them for your obstinacy," said the Captain, with an oath,and dismounting, he flung his reins to a dragoon, ordered some of themto follow him into the house, and others to make a complete search ofthe out-houses. Entering the kitchen, the Captain beheld young Gavinstanding with the old fowling-piece in his hand, which sight caused himto burst into a loud laugh.

  "So, my young friend, you are going to show fight. You are AndrewGray's son, I take it. Here, Dawson, bind the young chip; we may haveto screw the truth out of him by-and-by."

  Gavin presented his gun, and drew the trigger, but it was dashed out ofhis hand, and he was bound hand and foot, and laid on the floor. Thenthe ruffians continued their search through the house, lifting manyvaluables as they went, but found no traces of the fugitives, nor anycorner where they could possibly be hid. Those searching outside wereequally unsuccessful, and Captain Ingram got into a great rage, andswore some dreadful oaths, which made Susan Gray tremble, and marvelthat judgment did not overtake him at once.

  Stepping out to the door, he again addressed Mistress Gray, and brutallydemanded that she should at once divulge all she knew concerning themovements and probable hiding of her husband and his kindred. But SusanGray resolutely shook her head, and maintained that she knew not whitherthey had fled.

  "Here, Dawson, bring out that young branch of the rebel tree, and wewill try to refresh his memory," said the captain, peremptorily, andyoung Gavin was presently brought out, and set up against the beech treein front of the house.

  At sight of her first-born son, the dearest of all her children to herheart, Susan Gray grew as pale as death, and leaned against the lintelof the door for support.

  Captain Ingram then stepped forward, and pointing his sword at the younglad, swore at him, and bade him at once reveal his father's hiding, orsuffer the consequences.

  "Think you I would betray my father to save myself, sir?" asked theyoung Gavin, in a clear and steadfast voice, and his fine eye fearlesslylooked into the face of his cruel questioner. "Not though I had
twentylives. I would lose them all rather than be guilty of such blacktreachery and cowardice."

  In her boundless admiration of the courage of the boy, Susan Gray halfforgot the agonising fear which rent her motherly heart.

  "Sure, we have an out-and-out Covenanter here, boys!" said the Captain,looking round upon his dragoons. "Faith, I have shot many a man forless! but on account of his tender years we will give him another chancefor his life."

  At these ominous words Susan Gray gave a loud scream, and rushed forwardas if to protect her son, but she was rudely pushed back, and sank downon her knees on the ground, uttering broken prayers to God, and almostbeside herself in her agony.

  "Now, my blithe young rebel," said Captain Ingram, fixing his mockingeyes on Gavin's pale yet steadfast face, "I give you twenty seconds tomake up your mind. Reveal your father's hiding, or bear the penalty ofyour contempt for an officer of the King. Dawson, Baird, and Luttrell,have your muskets charged."

  The lad winced slightly at the last words, but only for a moment; thenhe drew himself up as well as his bonds would allow.

  "Life would be no boon at the price you ask," he then made answer, in alow yet firm voice. "You can only kill the body, and my blood will beon your head."

  "You hear, mistress?" said Ingram, turning then to the kneeling figureof the mother. "Ten seconds of the twenty are gone. If you will yieldthe required information his life will be spared."

  Susan Gray hesitated a moment. It was an awful moment for her, to becalled upon to choose, as it were, betwixt husband and child.

  "Mother, mother, don't be tempted!" cried Gavin. "What is my lifecompared with that of my father and grandfather, and uncle David? Letthem shoot. I am not afraid to die. I remember Mr. Guthrie'sfearlessness on the scaffold. I understand it now, for God is with mehere, close beside me, and I will go straight to glory."

  The sublimity of the lad's courage, the pathetic and beautiful faithwith which he spoke, moved more than one of these hardened hearts topity, but it only further enraged their brutal Captain.

  "Get into the house, mistress, and shut the door," he said, curtly;"unless you want to see the young rebel receive his baptism of fire."

  Susan Gray spoke not, but remained kneeling, with her face hidden in herhands; all feeling seemed to be frozen in her broken heart.

  There was a moment's dread silence; then the sharp report of threemusket shots, simultaneously fired, rang through the quiet Sabbath air.Then the order was given to march, and the dragoons, having finishedtheir deadly work, turned their horses' heads away from Hartrigge. Asthey did so, a volume of smoke began slowly to arise from behind thehouse; they had finished their work of destruction by setting fire tothe barn and granary ere they left. Little knew the brave men in hidingwhat was being enacted at so little a distance from them. The cave wastoo far away to admit of the sound of voices, or even the trampling ofthe horses to penetrate their ears, but they heard quite distinctly thereport of musketry, and involuntarily all started to their feet.

  "That sound comes from the house," said Hartrigge. "I must go and seewhat is being done there. I cannot sit here while these miscreantsmurder my wife and children in cold blood."

  Adam Hepburn, only too ready to accompany his brother-in-law, graspedhis sword, and the two stole cautiously up the hill in the friendlyshelter of the trees. The two ministers, who were unarmed, followed ata little distance, so that, in case of alarm, they might yet make goodtheir escape. The hearts of all four were filled with foreboding andanxious fears, for too well they knew the meaning of that portentousreport. Arrived at the summit of the hill, Hartrigge stole a little inadvance of Adam Hepburn, and thence could see the road, at the far endof which he caught a glimpse of the rear of the dragoons ere theyemerged out upon the public highway. Satisfied that there was nothingto apprehend from them, he went boldly forward, and, emerging from theshadow of the trees, saw a sight which almost made his heart standstill. There on the greensward lay the prostrate form of his firstbornson, with his mother kneeling motionless by his side; the two littlebairns were holding each other close and weeping bitterly; and Jeanie,with white face and dry eyes, was bathing a ghastly wound in herbrother's left temple.

  A moment more and those following more slowly up the hill were startledby the sound of a hoarse and bitter cry. Andrew Gray's iron composure,his absolute self-control were swept away, and, darting forward, heknelt by his murdered boy, calling him by every loving name, in accentsof anguish and entreaty. It was in vain: life was gone!

  Then there arose upon the wings of the soft September wind the echo ofthat desolate and anguished cry with which David of old bewailed hisfirstborn: "O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! would to God I haddied for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son!"