Hunted and Harried Part 7

If any one had seen the countenance of the Reverend George at that moment he would have observed that it became suddenly clothed with an air of meekness that was by no means attractive.

At the time we write of, any curate might, with the a.s.sistance of the soldiers, fine whom he pleased, and as much as he pleased, or he might, by reporting a paris.h.i.+oner an absentee from public wors.h.i.+p, consign him or her to prison, or even to the gallows. But though all the curates were 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 he was expected to play.

When the troopers came thundering round the corner of the manse a few minutes later, Quentin d.i.c.k, in his s.h.i.+rt sleeves, was in the act of making a beautiful throw, and Will Wallace was watching him with interest. Even the Reverend George seemed absorbed in the game, for he felt 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 no shepherds run past here."

"Strange!" returned the officer, "they seemed to enter your shrubbery and to disappear near the house."

"Did you see the path that diverges to the left and takes down to the thicket in the hollow?" asked Selby.

"Yes, I did, but they seemed to have pa.s.sed that when we lost sight of them."

"Let me advise you to try it now," said Selby.

"I will," replied the officer, wheeling his horse round and galloping off, followed by his men.

"Now, friends, I have relieved you from the fire, as I promised," said the Reverend Frank, turning to the shepherds; "see that you don't get into the frying-pan again. Whether you deserve hanging or not is best known to yourselves. To say truth, you don't look like it, but, judging from appearance, I should think that in these times you're not unlikely to get it. On with your coats and plaids and be off as fast as you can--over the ridge yonder. In less than half-an-hour you'll be in Denman'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 troopers will soon return. I've seen more than enough of hanging, quartering, and shooting to convince me that Presbytery is not to be rooted out, nor Prelacy established, by such means. Be off, I say!"

Thus urged, the fugitives were not slow to avail themselves of the opportunity, and soon were safe in Denman's Dean.

"Now, Lawless," said the Reverend Frank in a cheerful tone, "my conscience, which has been depressed of late, feels easier this evening.

Let us go in to supper; and _remember_ that no one knows about this incident except you--and I. So, there's no chance of its going further."

"The two rebels know it," suggested Lawless.

"No, they don't!" replied the other airily. "They have quite forgotten it by this time, and even if it should recur to memory their own interest and grat.i.tude would seal their lips--so we're quite safe, you and I; quite safe--come along."

Our travellers met with no further interruption until they reached Edinburgh. It was afternoon when they arrived, and, entering by the road that skirts the western base of the Castle rock, proceeded towards the Gra.s.smarket.

Pus.h.i.+ng through the crowd gathered in that celebrated locality, Quentin and Wallace ascended the steep street named Candlemaker Row, which led and still leads to the high ground that has since been connected with the High Street by George the Fourth Bridge. About half-way up the ascent they came to a semicircular projection which encroached somewhat on the footway. It contained a stair which led to the interior of one of the houses. Here was the residence of Mrs. Black, the mother of our friend Andrew. The good woman was at home, busily engaged with her knitting 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 and courteous demeanour.

She received Quentin d.i.c.k, to whom she was well known, with a mixture of goodwill and quiet dignity.

"I've brought a freend o' Mr. Black's to bide wi' ye for a wee while, if ye 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," returned the good woman, with a slight gesture that would have become a d.u.c.h.ess.

"Ay, an' yer son wants ye to receive Wallace's mither as weel. She'll likely 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 important historically being the National Covenant of 1638, and the Solemn League and Covenant of 1643. It was to these that Quentin referred, and to these that he and the great majority of the Scottish people clung with intense, almost superst.i.tious veneration; and well they might, for these Covenants--which some enthusiasts had signed with their blood--contained nearly 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 "the glory of G.o.d, the advancement of the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the honour and happiness of the King and his posterity, as well as the safety and peace of the people; to preserve the rights and privileges of Parliament, so that arbitrary and unlimited power should never be suffered to fall into the hands of rulers, and to vindicate and maintain the liberties of the subjects in all these things which concern their consciences, persons, and estates." In short, it was a testimony for const.i.tutional government in opposition to absolutism.

Such were the principles for which Mrs. Black contended with a resolution equal, if not superior, to that of her stalwart son; so that it was in a tone of earnest decision that she a.s.sured her visitors that nothing would gratify her more than to receive a woman who had suffered persecution for the sake o' the Master an' the Covenants. She then ushered Wallace and Quentin d.i.c.k into her little parlour--a humble but neatly kept apartment, the back window of which--a hole not much more than two feet square--commanded a view of the tombstones and monuments of Greyfriars' Churchyard.

CHAPTER SIX.

TELLS OF OVERWHELMING REVERSES.

Mrs. Black was a woman of sedate character and considerable knowledge for her station in life--especially in regard to Scripture. Like her son she was naturally grave and thoughtful, with a strong tendency to a.n.a.lyse, and to inquire into the nature and causes of things. Unlike Andrew, however, all her principles and her creed were fixed and well defined--at least in her own mind, for she held it to be the bounden duty of every Christian to be ready at all times to give a "reason" for the hope that is in him, as well as for every opinion that he holds.

Her natural kindness was somewhat concealed by slight austerity of manner.

She was seated, one evening, plying her ever active needle, at the same small window which overlooked the churchyard. The declining sun was throwing dark shadows across the graves. A ray of it gleamed on a corner of the particular tombstone which, being built against her house, slightly encroached upon her window. No one was with the old woman save a large cat, to whom she was in the habit of addressing occasional remarks of a miscellaneous nature, as if to relieve the tedium of solitude with the fiction of intercourse.

"Ay, p.u.s.s.ie," she said, "ye may weel wash yer face an' purr, for there's nae fear o' _you_ bein' dragged before Airchbishop Sherp to hae yer thoombs screwed, or yer legs squeezed in the--"

She stopped abruptly, for heavy footsteps were heard on the spiral stair, and next moment Will Wallace entered.

"Well, Mrs. Black," he said, sitting down in front of her, "it's all settled with Bruce. I'm engaged to work at his forge, and have already begun business."

"So I see, an' ye look business-like," answered the old woman, with a very slight smile, and a significant glance at our hero's costume.

A considerable change had indeed taken place in the personal appearance of Will Wallace since his arrival in Edinburgh, for in place of the shepherd's garb, with which he had started from the "bonnie hills of Galloway," he wore the leathern ap.r.o.n and other habiliments of a blacksmith. Moreover his hair had been allowed to grow in luxuriant natural curls about his head, and as the sun had bronzed him during his residence with Black, and a young beard and moustache had begun to a.s.sert themselves in premature vigour, his whole aspect was that of a grand heroic edition of his former self.

"Yes, the moment I told your friend," said Wallace, "that you had sent me to him, and that I was one of those who had good reason to conceal myself from observation, he gave me a hearty shake of the hand and accepted my offer of service; all the more that, having already some knowledge of his craft, I did not require teaching. So he gave me an ap.r.o.n and set me to work at once. I came straight from the forge just as 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. "Yer face an' hands need mair was.h.i.+n' than my p.u.s.s.ie gies her nose! But wheesht! I hear a fit on the stair. It'll be Quentin d.i.c.k. I sent him oot for a red herrin' or twa for supper."

As she spoke, Quentin entered with a brown paper parcel, the contents of which 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 second glance sufficed to enlighten him.

"No' that bad," he said, surveying the metamorphosed shepherd, "but I doot yer auld friends the dragoons wad sune see through 't--considerin'

yer size an' the soond o' yer voice."

So saying he proceeded to place the red herrings on a gridiron, as if he were the recognised cook of the establishment.

Presently Bruce himself--Mrs. Black's friend the blacksmith--made his appearance, and the four were soon seated round a supper of oat-cakes, mashed potatoes, milk, and herring. For some time they discussed the probability of Wallace being recognised by spies as one who had attended the conventicle at Irongray, or by dragoons as a deserter; then, as appet.i.te was appeased, they diverged to the lamentable state of the country, and the high-handed doings of the Privy Council.

"The Airchbishop cam' to the toon this mornin'," remarked Mrs. Black, "so there'll be plenty o' torterin' gaun on."

"I fear you're right," said Bruce, who, having sojourned a considerable time in England, had lost much of his northern language and accent.

"That horrible instrument, the _boot_, was brought this very morning to my smiddy for repair. They had been so hard on some poor wretch, I suppose, that they broke part of it, but I put a flaw into its heart that will force them to be either less cruel or to come to me again for repairs!"

"H'm! if ye try thae pranks ower often they'll find it oot," said Quentin. "Sherp is weel named, and if he suspects what ye've done, ye'll get a taste of the buit yersel'."

The hatred with which by far the greater part of the people of Scotland regarded Archbishop Sharp of Saint Andrews is scarcely a matter of wonder when the man's character and career is considered. Originally a Presbyterian, and Minister of Crail, he was sent to Court by his brethren and countrymen as their advocate and agent, and maintained there at their expense for the express purpose of watching over the interests of their church. Sharp not only betrayed his trust but went over to what might well at that time be described as "the enemy," and secretly undermined the cause which he was bound in honour to support.

Finally he threw off all disguise, and was rewarded by being made Archbishop of Saint Andrews and Primate of Scotland! This was bad enough, but the new Prelate, not satisfied with the gratification of his ambition, became, after the manner of apostates, a bitter persecutor of the friends he had betrayed. Charles the Second, who was indolent, incapable and entirely given over to self-indulgence, handed over the affairs of Scotland to an unprincipled cabal of laymen and churchmen, who may be fittingly described as drunken libertines. By these men--of whom Middleton, Lauderdale, and Sharp were the chief--all the laws pa.s.sed in favour of Presbytery were rescinded; new tyrannical laws such as we have elsewhere referred to were enacted and ruthlessly enforced; Prelacy was established; the Presbyterian Church was laid in ruins, and all who dared to question the righteousness of these transactions were p.r.o.nounced rebels and treated as such. There was no impartial tribunal to which the people could appeal. The King, who held Presbyterianism to be unfit for a gentleman, cared for none of these things, and even if he had it would have mattered little, for those about him took good care that he should not be approached or enlightened as to the true state of affairs in Scotland.

Sharp himself devised and drafted a new edict empowering any officer or sergeant to kill on the spot any armed man whom he found returning from or going to a conventicle, and he was on the point of going to London to have this edict confirmed when his murderous career was suddenly terminated.