Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
HUNTED AND HARRIED, BY R.M. BALLANTYNE.
CHAPTER ONE.
ON THE HUNT.
On a brilliant summer morning in the last quarter of the seventeenthcentury a small troop of horsemen crossed the ford of the river Cairn,in Dumfriesshire, not far from the spot where stands the little churchof Irongray, and, gaining the road on the western bank of the stream,wended their way towards the moors and uplands which lie in theneighbourhood of Skeoch Hill.
The dragoons, for such they were, trotted rapidly along the road thatled into the solitudes of the hills, with all the careless dash of menwhose interests are centred chiefly on the excitements of the passinghour, yet with the unflagging perseverance of those who have a fixedpurpose in view--their somewhat worn aspect and the mud with which theywere bespattered, from jack-boot to iron headpiece, telling of a longride over rugged ground.
The officer in command of the party rode a little in advance. Closebehind him followed two troopers, one of whom was a burly middle-agedman with a stern, swarthy countenance; the other a youth whose tallframe was scarcely, if at all, less powerful than that of hiscomrade-in-arms, though much more elegant in form, while his youthfuland ruddy, yet masculine, countenance suggested that he must at thattime have been but a novice in the art of war.
This youth alone, of all the party, had a somewhat careworn and sadexpression on his brow. It could hardly have been the result offatigue, for there was more of ease and vigour in his carriage than inthat of any of his companions.
"We should be near the river by this time, Glendinning," said the leaderof the party, reining in and addressing the swarthy trooper.
"Ay, sir, the Cluden rins jist ayont the turn o' the road there,"replied the man. "Ye'll hear the roar o' the fa' in a meenit or twa."
Even as he spoke the dull growl of a cataract was heard, and, a fewminutes later, the party came upon the ford of the river.
It was situated not many yards below the picturesque waterfall, which isnow spanned by the Routen Bridge, but which, at that time, wasunbridged--at all events, if a bridge had previously existed, it hadfallen in or been carried away--and the wild gorge was impassable.
The sound of the fall alone told of its vicinity, for a dense mass offoliage hid it completely from the troopers' view until they hadsurmounted the steep bank on the other side of the stream.
"Are you well acquainted with this man Black?" asked the leader of theparty as they emerged from the thick belt of trees and shrubs by whichthe Cluden was shaded, and continued their journey on the more openground beyond.
"I ken him weel, sir," answered the trooper. "Andrew Black was an auldfreend o' mine, an' a big, stoot, angry man he is--kindly disposed, naedoot, when ye let him alane, but a perfe't deevil incarnate when he'sroosed. He did me an ill turn ance that I've no paid him off for_yet_."
"I suppose, then," said the officer, "that your guiding us so willinglyto his cottage is in part payment of this unsettled debt?"
"Maybe it is," replied the trooper grimly.
"They say," continued the other, "that there is some mystery about theman; that somehow nobody can catch him. Like an eel he has slippedthrough our fellows' fingers and disappeared more than once, when theythought they had him quite safe. It is said that on one occasion hemanaged even to give the slip to Claverhouse himself, which, you know,is not easy."
"That may be, sir, but he'll no slip through my fingers gin I ance git agrup o' his thrapple," said the swarthy man, with a revengeful look.
"We must get a grip of him somehow," returned the officer, "for it issaid that he is a sly helper of the rebels--though it is as difficult toconvict as to catch him; and as this gathering, of which our spies havebrought information, is to be in the neighbourhood of his house, he issure to be mixed up with it."
"Nae doot o' that, sir, an' so we may manage to kill twa birds wi' aestane. But I'm in a diffeeculty noo, sir, for ye ken I'm no acquaintwi' this country nae farer than the Cluden ford, an' here we hae come toa fork i' the road."
The party halted as he spoke, while the perplexed guide stroked hisrather long nose and looked seriously at the two roads, or bridle-paths,into which their road had resolved itself, and each of which led intovery divergent parts of the heathclad hills.
This guide, Glendinning, had become acquainted with Black at a time whenthe latter resided in Lanarkshire, and, as he had just said, wasunacquainted with the region through which they now travelled beyond theriver Cluden. After a short conference the officer in command decidedto divide the party and explore both paths.
"You will take one man, Glendinning, and proceed along the path to theright," he said; "I will try the left. If you discover anything like ahouse or cot within a mile or two you will at once send your comradeback to let me know, while you take up your quarters in the cottage andawait my coming. Choose whom you will for your companion."
"I choose Will Wallace, then," said Glendinning, with a nod to the youngtrooper whom we have already introduced.
The youth did not seem at all flattered by the selection, but of courseobeyed orders with military promptitude, and followed his comrade forsome time in silence, though with a clouded brow.
"It seems to me," said the swarthy trooper, as they drew rein andproceeded up a steep ascent at a walk, "that ye're no' sae pleased as yemight be wi' the wark we hae on hand."
"Pleased!" exclaimed the youth, whose tone and speech seemed to indicatehim an Englishman, "how can I be pleased when all I have been called onto do since I enlisted has been to aid and abet in robbery, cruelty, andmurder? I honour loyalty and detest rebellion as much as any man in thetroop, but if I had known what I now know I would never have joinedyou."
Glendinning gazed at his companion in amazement. Having been absent ondetached service when Will Wallace had joined--about three weekspreviously--he was ignorant both as to his character and his recentexperiences. He had chosen him on the present occasion simply onaccount of his youth and magnificent physique.
"I doot I've made a mistake in choosin' _you_," said Glendinning withsome asperity, after a few moments, "but it's ower late noo torectifee't. What ails ye, lad? What hae ye seen?"
"I have seen what I did not believe possible," answered the other withsuppressed feeling. "I have seen a little boy tortured with thethumbscrews, pricked with bayonets, and otherwise inhumanly treatedbecause he would not, or could not, tell where his father was. I haveseen a man hung up to a beam by his thumbs because he would not give upmoney which perhaps he did not possess. I have seen a woman tortured byhaving lighted matches put between her fingers because she would not, orcould not, tell where a conventicle was being held. I did not, indeed,see the last deed actually done, else would I have cut down the cowardwho did it. The poor thing had fainted and the torture was over when Icame upon them. Only two days ago I was ordered out with a party whopillaged the house of a farmer because he refused to take an oath ofallegiance, which seems to have been purposely so worded as to makethose who take it virtually bondslaves to the King, and which makes himmaster of the lives, properties, and consciences of his subjects--andall this done in the King's name and by the King's troops!"
"An' what pairt did _you_ tak' in these doin's?" asked Glendinning withsome curiosity.
"I did my best to restrain my comrades, and when they were burning thehayricks, throwing the meal on the dunghill, and wrecking the propertyof the farmer, I cut the cords with which they had bound the poor fellowto his chair and let him go free."
"Did onybody see you do that?"
"I believe not; though I should not have cared if they had. I'mthoroughly disgusted with the service. I know little or nothing of theprinciples of these rebels--the
se fanatics, as you call them--buttyranny or injustice I cannot stand, whether practised by a king or abeggar, and I am resolved to have nothing more to do with such fiendishwork."
"Young man," said the swarthy comrade in a voice of considerablesolemnity, "ye hae obviously mista'en your callin'. If you werena newto thae pairts, ye would ken that the things ye objec' to are quitecommon. Punishin' an' harryin' the rebels and fanatics--_Covenanters_,they ca' theirsels--has been gaun on for years ower a' the land. In myopeenion it's weel deserved, an' naething that ye can do or say wullprevent it, though what ye do an' say is no' unlikely to cut short yerain career by means
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