*CHAPTER XIX.*

  *UNLOOKED-FOR NEWS.*

  In spite of the many stringent measures taken by the Government tosuppress the field preachings and break the spirit of the Covenanters,the persecuted people continued to meet for worship in the mountainsolitudes or in the moorland wilds, thus strengthening each others'hearts and hands, and renewing the bond of their precious Covenant, forwhich these hardships were endured.

  Now no conventicle was held unless protected by an armed band ready togive the alarm and fight, if need be, the soldiers who might seek todisturb or disperse them. Consequently skirmishes were of very frequentoccurrence, sometimes resulting in victory for the Presbyterians,sometimes in their utter defeat. In these encounters many lost theirlives. Often were the heather and the mountain streams dyed with theirblood, and yet the army never seemed to diminish in numbers, for therewere ever some ready to fill the vacant places of those who had fallen.

  The curates still continued to conduct Episcopal services in the kirks,but the supremacy of the bishops seemed no nearer being established inthe last, because, with some exceptions, those who attended theministrations were people of little note or reputation, with perhaps afew whom terror compelled to take their unwilling places in the kirks.

  The struggles betwixt the Government and the Scottish Presbyterians hadnow extended over several years, and seemed yet no nearer a satisfactorytermination. The Covenanters, with their intimate knowledge of theirnative hills and dales, had the advantage over the troopers sent to huntand destroy them, and some of their mountain fastnesses were moreimpregnable than a fortified city. In open warfare they might easilyhave been cut to pieces, but time went on, and except the few skirmishesalready referred to, the opponents had never met in battle. Such astate of affairs could not be satisfactory to the King of England, muchless so to Lauderdale and the Archbishop of St. Andrews, who were hisexecutors in Scotland.

  When every troop of marauding dragoons was empowered to take captive,torture, or kill any man, woman, or child whom they even suspected ofbeing a Covenanter, or of attending the Conventicles; when the propertyof unoffending individuals was confiscated and distributed among thespoilers; when the dwellings of peaceable country folk were robbed, andoften burned to the ground without explanation or excuse; when those whowere supposed to have afforded shelter or refreshment to the fugitiveswere fined and imprisoned without mercy, it might have been thought thatthere were no severer measures left in the Government repertoire, andthat they might have abandoned the persecutions in despair of everrooting Presbyterian principles out of Scotland. But as yet theGovernment had no such intention. Those in power met to discuss, andfinally issued orders for the infliction of yet more stringent and crueltreatment upon the rebels. Every forgotten and long-abhorred torturewas revived, and used as punishments by the unholy Courts, which made amockery of administering justice in the land.

  Well might the endurance of God's people quail beneath the yoke of theoppressor; well might their hearts be uplifted to Heaven in thatdespairing cry, "O Lord, how long!"

  One evening about the middle of May, in the year 1679, several men weregathered together in a lonely farmhouse among the wilds of Lanarkshire.Among them we recognise Andrew Gray of Hartrigge, and his brother,David, the minister of Broomhill, also other two familiar faces, thoseof Adam Hepburn of Rowallan, and Watty McBean, the carrier of Inverburn.Having had his houses burned about his ears, his faithful nag and allhis valuables stolen, Watty had become, instead of a man of peace, a manof war, and had joined the army lying in the Vale of Avondale. Betty hadretired to Hartrigge, which was now entirely left to the women-folk, andwas at the utter mercy of the soldiery. But as yet the homesteadremained untouched, though fair Rowallan was razed to the ground.

  From the appearance of the company gathered in the room, as well as fromtheir remarks, it could be gathered that they were (with the exceptionof Watty, who would on no account let Adam Hepburn out of his sight)leaders among the insurgents. They were discussing the next steps to betaken by the army, and Sir Robert Hamilton, brother to the Laird ofInverburn, and a staunch, though moderate Presbyterian, was counsellingcautious measures, to which Andrew Gray, Adam Hepburn, and some otherfiery spirits listened with but a small show of patience, when therecame a loud and peremptory knocking at the door. Involuntarily allsprang to their feet, and grasped their swords. If they werediscovered, and the soldiers were without, there were twenty valiant anddesperate men of them, who would fight dearly for their lives.

  Adam Hepburn, sword in hand, fearlessly went to the outer door, andthrew it open. In the faint and uncertain beams of the young May moonhe saw only a solitary horseman, whose steed was panting and coveredwith foam, as if it had galloped many miles that day.

  "Is this Windyedge, the house of Gideon Dickson?" the horseman asked ina thick whisper.

  "Is it friend or foe?" queried Adam, briefly.

  "Friend," replied the horseman, as briefly. "Is Sir Robert Hamiltonwithin?"

  "He is; but be good enough first to give me your name as a guerdon ofyour honour," said Adam.

  "Tush! man," said the horseman impatiently; "well, John Balfour ofKinloch, synonymous with liberty at any price, is it not?"

  Those within, hearing the whispered conference, now came crowding out tothe door, and Sir Robert Hamilton, at sight of the figure on the horse,uttered an exclamation of surprise, and at once stepped across thethreshold.

  "John Balfour! What on earth brings you from Fife to this remote place?No paltry reason, I could swear."

  "You speak the truth," returned Balfour grimly. "Is there any fellow whocan put up my steed, who is in a sorry plight, poor wretch, as well hemay, after his desperate ride. And is there any refreshment to be hadwithin, for I am fainting with hunger and fatigue."

  Gideon Dickson, the farmer of Windyedge, came out himself, and takingthe exhausted animal's bridle-rein, led him away towards the stable.Then Balfour was conducted into the house, and refreshment immediatelyset before him. While he partook of his repast he spoke not, and thosein the room who had hitherto only known him by hearsay as a fearlesssoldier, who would fight under the most desperate circumstances, nowlooked, not without astonishment, upon his person. In figure he wasconsiderably under the middle height, but his frame was powerfully knit,and evidently possessed of great strength. His countenance was by nomeans prepossessing, being dark and forbidding, while a cast in his eyegave him a peculiarly fierce and unpleasant aspect. When he hadfinished his repast he looked round upon the assembled company, and thenfixing his eyes on the face of Sir Robert Hamilton, briefly asked thequestion:--

  "Are these present to be trusted?"

  "Ay, truly," answered Sir Robert. "They are the picked men of ourforces; therefore you may fearlessly open your mouth in their midst,John."

  "And there are no traitors or spies within hearing?" further queriedKinloch, looking suspiciously round him.

  "None; we are gathered here for consultation," replied Sir Robert. "Ourforces are lying about a mile distant, under cover of the Loudon hill."

  "That is well. But, tell me, have you had no news, of a verycomfortable and pleasant nature, conveyed hither from Fife?" queriedBalfour grimly.

  Sir Robert shook his head and made answer that they had received nocommunication whatsoever from the shire of Fife.

  "Nothing relating to that arch-fiend, James Sharp, of St. Andrews?"

  "Nothing. Come, John, do not keep us in suspense. Can it be that theLord has permitted judgment to fall on him at last?"

  "Even so," said Balfour. "Know, then, that certain faithful servants ofthe Covenant, meeting the archbishop's carriage on Magus muir, on thethird day of this present month, sent the perjured traitor to his justand righteous doom."

  Sir Robert Hamilton was struck dumb in the intensity of his surprise andhorror, for in a moment the consequences of that rash and indefensibleact were made clear to his well-balanced mind. One o
r two others,notably the minister of Broomhill, also exhibited dismay, but themajority of those present received the news with a lively satisfaction,and even with a species of fierce joy which told that in their zeal theythirsted for blood.

  "Who authorised, or led them to such a rash and unwise attack?" queriedSir Robert Hamilton. "They must have been blind and blood-thirstyzealots, surely, who killed a man in cold blood, without giving him achance to defend himself."

  An expression of fierce and bitter scorn crossed the dark face ofBalfour as he made answer contemptuously.

  "What of the many thousands who have been murdered in cold blood atSharp's instigation and with his approval? The like mercy he showed toothers was meted out to him. For my part, I would that he had ten otherlives, to be taken from him in the same summary fashion."

  "I am of your opinion, Mr. Balfour," said the deep voice of Adam Hepburnof Rowallan, and Kinloch immediately turned his deep-set eyes withapproval on the speaker. Something in the dogged and resoluteexpression on his fine face, and in the gleam of his keen blue eye,riveted Balfour's attention and caused him to mentally resolve that theyshould become better acquainted with each other.

  "And I, also," chimed in Andrew Gray in his quiet but weighty manner."There could be no fate too harsh for such a traitor. Verily he hasbeen a Judas in the Kirk of Scotland all his days, and his hands aredyed with the blood of hundreds of innocents whom he has betrayed."

  Still Sir Robert Hamilton shook his head, and a troubled and anxiousexpression continued to dwell on his face.

  "Come, tell me, John, who were the perpetrators of this deed ofviolence?" he asked. "Are any of them personally known to you?"

  A grim smile stole into Kinloch's face as he made answer--

  "Faith, they were all as well known to me as my own brothers, seeing Iwas in their midst, as also was my brother-in-law, David Hackstoun ofRathillet."

  "David Hackstoun of Rathillet!" ejaculated Sir Robert in tones of utteramazement. "Very sure am I that so sweet and kindly a soul would notlay a hand even on the archbishop."

  "Well, like Saul, he looked on, consenting unto his death," saidBalfour. "I myself gave the traitor a sword thrust, just to wipe offold scores, but it was not these hands that finished him. Nevertheless,the crime is wholly charged upon my brother-in-law and myself, and Itake it there will be a heavy ransom set upon our precious heads. Afterthe deed was done we separated, David Hackstoun and I agreeing to jointhe forces here; but he would go home to see his wife first, else he hadbeen here with me. It may be that his silly dallying may cost him hislife."

  "You are right in saying there will be a heavy price set on your heads,"said Sir Robert Hamilton; "and, what is more, we will all need to girdabout our swords and see to our armour, for now there will be no quarterfor any professing Covenanting principles. I prophesy that the kingwill take steps to terribly avenge his primate's death."

  "What of that?" queried Balfour, carelessly. "What ingenuity or revengecould suggest more terrible and bloody oppression than has been pressedon Scotland these past ten years?"

  "Well, well, what's done can't be undone," said Sir Robert, with asomewhat mournful smile. "Now, lads, we had better to our discussionsagain. We were but planning a great field meeting for Sabbath week, atwhich a Communion Service might be held, and we were somewhat divided asto a suitable place of meeting."

  "Are there many soldiers in the district?" asked Balfour.

  "Ah, that we cannot tell. They rise mysteriously, as it were out of thebowels of the earth, when least expected," replied Sir Robert. "But Iheard on good authority that that miscreant--for I can call him nothingelse--John Graham of Claverhouse is in the west."

  "Right well would I like to measure swords with him," said Balfour, withfeverish eagerness. "Such a man is not fit to live."

  "It's no' very easy gettin' at him," piped the shrill voice of WattyMcBean. "I'm tell he rides a muckle black horse the deevil sent him,an' that nae man can owertak' him."

  Balfour immediately turned his piercing eyes on Watty's face with aglance which covered him with confusion, for he had been surprised intospeech without thinking.

  "Be quiet, Watty," said Adam Hepburn promptly, which rebuke caused Wattyto slink behind the door, chiefly to escape the gaze of Balfour, whom hehad regarded with terror ever since his entrance.

  "Those who are best acquainted with the district should be the fittestto choose a place of meeting," said Balfour. "What numbers have you atLoudon Hill?"

  "About three hundred, and at a short notice we could speedily double ortreble the number. There having been no fighting of late, very manyhave returned to their homes. Indeed, those with us are chiefly menwhose goods have been confiscated and their dwellings pillaged andburned."

  "I see no better spot than where our army now lies," said Adam Hepburn."It is a sheltered and suitable place, and from the top of the hill ourwatchers could readily descry the enemy approaching from one side, whileupon the other that wide and dreary morass is a bulwark in our defence."

  "I agree with you," said Sir Robert. "Then we can fix upon the placeand day, and send word through the surrounding district."

  "Have you forgotten that the anniversary of the king's restoration is tobe celebrated throughout Scotland on the 29th of this present month?"asked Balfour.

  "No: we have had that under discussion likewise, John," replied SirRobert, "and we intend to celebrate it in our own fashion. But of thatmore anon. And now we must separate for the night. My quarters in themeantime are here, John. You had better remain with me in caseRathillet should come hither seeking you. He should be here by thelatest to-morrow."

  Balfour acquiesced, and, being much fatigued, gladly retired to rest,while the others separated to the various places where they were toobtain shelter for the night.