by John Galt
CHAPTER LXXV
The same night it was intimated to me that I was fined in five hundredmarks, and that bonds were required to be given for the payment; uponthe granting of which, in consideration of my ill-health, the LordKelburne had consented I should be set free.
This was, in many respects, a more lenient sentence than I had expected;and in the hope that perhaps Sarah Lochrig might have been able toprovide the money, so as to render the granting of the bonds and theprocuring of cautioners unnecessary, I sent over a man on horseback totell her the news, and the man in returning brought my son Josephbehind him, sent by his mother to urge me to give the bonds at once, asshe had not been able to raise so much money; and the more to incite me,if there had been need for incitement, she had willed Joseph to tell methat a party of Claverhouse's dragoons had been quartered on the housethat morning, to live there till the fine was paid.
Of the character of those freebooters I needed no certificate. They hadfilled every other place wherever they had been quartered with shame andnever-ceasing sorrow, and therefore I was indeed roused to hear that mydefenceless daughters were in their power, so I lost no time in sendingmy son to entreat two of his mother's relations, who were bein merchantsin Ayr, to join me in the bond,--a thing which they did in the mostcompassionate manner;--and, the better to expedite the business, I gotit to be permitted by the Lord Kelburne that the bonds should be sentthe same day to Irvine, where I hoped to be able next morning todischarge them. All this was happily concerted and brought to a pleasantissue before sunset;--at which time I was discharged from the tolbooth,carrying with me many pious wishes from those who were there, and whohad not been so gently dealt by.
It was my intent to have proceeded home the same night, but my son wasvery tired with the many errands he had run that day, and by his longride in the morning; moreover, I was myself in need of repose, for myanxiety had brought on a disturbance in my blood, and my limbs shook,and I was altogether unable to undertake any journey. I was thereforetoo easily entreated of Archibald Lochrig, my wife's cousin, and one ofmy cautioners, to stop in his house that evening. But next morning,being much refreshed with a pleasant sleep and the fallacious cheeringof happy dreams, I left Ayr, with my son, before the break of day, andwe travelled with light feet, for our hearts were lifted up with hope.
Though my youth was long past, and many things had happened to sadden myspirit, I yet felt on that occasion an unaccountable sense of kindlinessand joy. The flame of life was as it were renewed, and brightened in thepure and breezy air of the morning, and a bounding gladness rose in mybosom as my eye expatiated around in the freedom of the spacious fields.On the left-hand the living sea seemed as if the pulses of its movingwaters were in unison with the throbbings of my spirit; and, like jocundmaidens disporting themselves in the flowing tide, the gentle waves,lifting their heads, and spreading out their arms and raising theirwhite bosoms to the rising sun, came as it were happily to the smoothsands of the sparkling shore. The grace of enjoyment brightened andblithened all things. There was a cheerfulness in the songs of thelittle birds that enchanted the young heart of my blooming boy to breakforth into singing, and his carol was gayer than the melody of the lark.But that morning was the last time that either of us could ever afterknow pleasure any more in this world.
Eager to be home, and that I might share with Sarah Lochrig and ourchildren the joy of thankfulness for my deliverance, I had resolved tocall, in passing through Irvine, at the clerk's chamber, to inquire ifthe bonds had been sent from Ayr, that my cautioners might be as soon aspossible discharged. But we had been so early a-foot that we reached thetown while the inhabitants were yet all asleep, so that we thought itwould be as well to go straight home; and accordingly we passed down thegait and through the town-end port without seeing any person in thestreet, save only the town-herd, as he was going with his horn to soundfor the cows to be sent out to go with him to the moor.
The sight of a town in the peacefulness of the morning slumbers, and ofa simple man going forth to lead the quiet cattle to pasture filled mymind with softer thoughts than I had long known, and I said to my son,--
"Surely those who would molest the peace of the poor hae ne'er rightlytasted the blessing of beholding the confidence with which they trustthemselves in the watches of the night, and amidst the perils of theirbarren lot." And I felt my heart thaw again into charity with all men,and I was thankful for the delight.
As I was thus tasting again the luxury of gentle thoughts, a band offive dragoons came along the road, and Joseph said to me that they werethe same who had been quartered in our house. I looked at them as theypassed by, but they turned their heads aside.
"I wonder," said my son, "that they did na speak to me: I thought theyhad a black look."
"No doubt, Joseph," was my answer, "the men are no lost to a' sense ofshame. They canna but be rebuked at the sight of a man that, maybeagainst their will, poor fellows, they were sent to oppress."
"I dinna like them the day, father, they're unco like ill-doers," saidthe thoughtful and observing stripling.
But my spirit was at the time full of good-will towards all men, and Ireasoned with him against giving way to unkind thoughts, expounding, tothe best of my ability, the nature of Gospel-charity, and theheavenlyness of good-will, saying to him,--
"The nature of charity's like the light o' the sun, by which all thingsare cherished. It is the brightness of the soul, and the gloriousquality which proves our celestial descent. Our other feelings arecommon to a' creatures, but the feeling of charity is divine. It's theonly thing in which man partakes of the nature of God."
Discoursing in this scriptural manner, we reached the Gowan-brae. Myheart beat high with gladness. My son bounded forward to tell his motherand sisters of my coming. On gaining the brow of the hill he leapt fromthe ground with a frantic cry and clasped his hands. I ran towardshim--but I remember no more--though at times something crosses my mind,and I have wild visions of roofless walls, and a crowd of weeping womenand silent men digging among ashes, and a beautiful body, all droppingwet, brought on a deal from the mill-dam, and of men, as it was carriedby, seizing me by the arms and tying my hands,--and then I fancy myselfin a house fastened to a chair;--and sometimes I think I was lifted outand placed to beek in the sun and to taste the fresh air. But what thesethings import I dare only guess, for no one has ever told me what becameof my benign Sarah Lochrig and our two blooming daughters;--all isphantasma that I recollect of the day of my return home. I said my soulwas iron, and my heart converted into stone. O that they were indeed so!But sorrowing is a vain thing, and my task must not stand still.
When I left Ayr the leaves were green, and the fields gay, and thewaters glad; and when the yellow leaf rustled on the ground, and thewaters were drumly, and the river roaring, I was somehow, I know not bywhat means, in the kirk-yard, and a film fell from the eyes of myreason, and I looked around, and my little boy had hold of me by thehand, and I said to him, "Joseph, what's yon sae big and green in ourlair?" and he gazed in my face, and the tears came into his eyes, and hereplied,--
"Father, they are a' in the same grave." I took my hand out of his;--Iwalked slowly to the green tomb;--I knelt down, and I caused my son tokneel beside me, and I vowed enmity for ever against Charles Stuart andall of his line; and I prayed, in the words of the Psalmist, that whenhe was judged he might be condemned. Then we rose; but my son said tome,--
"Father, I canna wish his condemnation; but I'll fight by your side tillwe have harlt him down from his bloody throne."
And I felt that I had forgotten I was a Christian, and I again kneltdown and prayed, but it was for the sin I had done in the vengeance ofthe latter clause. "Nevertheless, Lord," I then cried, "as Thou Thyselfdidst take the sceptre from Saul, and gave the crown to David, make mean instrument to work out the purposes of Thy dreadful justice, which intime will come to be."
Then I rose again, and went towards the place where my home had been;but when I saw the ruins I ran back t
o the kirk-yard, and threw myselfon the grave, and cried to the earth to open and receive me.
But the Lord had heard my prayer, and while I lay there he sent down hisconsoling angel, and the whirlwind of my spirit was calmed, and Iremembered the promise of my son to fight by my side, and I rose toprepare myself for the warfare.
While I was lying on the ground several of the neighbours had heard mywild cries, and came into the kirk-yard; but by that time the course ofthe tempest had been staid, and they stood apart with my son, who toldthem I was come again to myself, and they thought they ought not todisturb me; when, however, they saw me rise, they drew near and spokekindly to me, and Zachariah Smylie invited me to go back with him to hishouse; for it was with him that I had been sheltered during the frenzy.But I said,--
"No: I will neither taste meat nor drink, nor seek to rest myself, tillI have again a sword." And I entreated him to give me a little money,that, with my son, we might go into Irvine and provide ourselves withweapons.
The worthy man looked very sorrowful to hear me so speak, and some ofthe others, that were standing by, began to reason with me, and torepresent the peril of any enterprise at that time. But I pointed to thegrave, and said,--
"Friens, do you ken what's in yon place, and do ye counsel me to peace?"At which words they turned aside and shook their heads; and ZachariahSmylie went and brought me a purse of money, which having put into mybosom, I took my son by the hand, and bidding them all farewell, wewalked to the town silently together, and I thought of my brother'swords in his grief, that the speed of lightning was slow to the wishesof revenge.
