Hunted and Harried

by R. M. Ballantyne

ofit was hidden by a thick beard and a heavy moustache.

  Black, who began to see that the strange visitor had nothing of theappearance of one sent to arrest him, said, in a half-humorous,remonstrative tone--

  "Maybe ye're a furriner, an' dinna understan' mainners, but it's as weelto tell ye that I expec' men to tak' aff their bannets when they comeinto _my_ hoose."

  Without speaking the visitor removed his cap. Black recognised him inan instant.

  "Wull Wallace!" he gasped in a hoarse whisper, as he sprang forward andlaid violent hands on his old friend. "Losh, man! are my een leein'?is't possable? Can this be _you_?"

  "Yes, thank God, it is indeed--"

  He stopped short, for Andrew, albeit unaccustomed, like most of hiscountrymen, to give way to ebullitions of strong feeling, threw his longarms around his friend and fairly hugged him. He did not, indeed,condescend on a Frenchman's kiss, but he gave him a stage embrace and asqueeze that was worthy of a bear.

  "Your force is not much abated, I see--or rather, feel," said WillWallace, when he was released.

  "Abated!" echoed Black, "it's little need, in thae awfu' times. But,man, _your_ force has increased, if I'm no mista'en."

  "Doubtless--it is natural, after having toiled with the slaves inBarbadoes for so many years. The work was kill or cure out there. Buttell me--my mother--and yours?"

  "Oh, they're baith weel and hearty, thank the Lord," answered Black."But what for d'ye no speer after Jean?" he added in a somewhatdisappointed tone.

  "Because I don't need to. I've seen her already, and know that she iswell."

  "Seen her!" exclaimed Andrew in surprise.

  "Ay, you and Jean were seated alone at the little window in theCandlemaker Raw last night about ten o'clock, and I was standing by atombstone in the Greyfriars Churchyard admiring you. I did not like topresent myself just then, for fear of alarming the dear girl too much,and then I did not dare to come here to-day till the gloamin'. I onlyarrived yesterday."

  "Weel, weel! The like o' this bates a'. Losh man! I hope it's no adream. Nip me, man, to mak sure. Sit doon, sit doon, an' let's hear a'aboot it."

  The story was a long one. Before it was quite finished the door wasgently opened, and Jean Black herself entered. She had come, as was herwont every night, to walk home with her uncle.

  Black sprang up.

  "Jean, my wummin," he said, hastily putting on his blue bonnet, "there'sno light eneuch for ye to be intryduced to my freend here, but ye canhear him if ye canna see him. I'm gaun oot to see what sort o' a nightit is. He'll tak' care o' ye till I come back."

  Without awaiting a reply he went out and shut the door, and the girlturned in some surprise towards the stranger.

  "Jean!" he said in a low voice, holding out both hands.

  Jean did not scream or faint. Her position in life, as well as herrough experiences, forbade such weakness, but it did not forbid--well,it is not our province to betray confidences! All we can say is, thatwhen Andrew Black returned to the cellar, after a prolonged and no doubtscientific inspection of the weather, he found that the results of theinterview had been quite satisfactory--eminently so!

  Need we say that there were rejoicing and thankful hearts in CandlemakerRow that night? We think not. If any of the wraiths of the Covenanterswere hanging about the old churchyard, and had peeped in at thewell-known back window about the small hours of the morning, they wouldhave seen our hero, clasping his mother with his right arm and Jean withhis left. He was encircled by an eager group--composed of Mrs. Blackand Andrew, Jock Bruce, Ramblin' Peter, and Aggie Wilson--who listenedto the stirring tale of his adventures, or detailed to him the not lessstirring and terrible history of the long period that had elapsed sincehe was torn from them, as they had believed, for ever.

  Next morning Jean accompanied her lover to the workshop of her uncle,who had preceded them, as he usually went to work about daybreak.

  "Are ye no feared," asked Jean, with an anxious look in her companion'sface, "that some of your auld enemies may recognise you? You're so bigand--and--" (she thought of the word handsome, but substituted)"odd-looking."

  "There is little fear, Jean. I've been so long away that most of thepeople--the enemies at least--who knew me must have left; besides, mybronzed face and bushy beard form a sufficient disguise, I shouldthink."

  "I'm no sure o' that," returned the girl, shaking her head doubtfully;"an' it seems to me that the best thing ye can do will be to gang to theworkshop every mornin' before it's daylight. Have ye fairly settled totak' to Uncle Andrew's trade?"

  "Yes. Last night he and I arranged it while you were asleep. I mustwork, you know, to earn my living, and there is no situation so likelyto afford such effectual concealment. Bruce offered to take me onagain, but the smiddy is too public, and too much frequented bysoldiers. Ah, Jean! I fear that our wedding-day is a long way off yet,for, although I could easily make enough to support you in comfort ifthere were no difficulties to hamper me, there is not much chance of mymaking a fortune, as Andrew Black says, by turning parritch-sticks andpeeries!"

  Wallace tried to speak lightly, but could not disguise a tone ofdespondency.

  "Your new King," he continued, "seems as bad as the old one, if notworse. From all I hear he seems to have set his heart on bringing thecountry back again to Popery, and black will be the look-out if hesucceeds in doing that. He has quarrelled, they say, with his bishops,and in his anger is carrying matters against them with a high hand. Ifear that there is woe in store for poor Scotland yet."

  "It may be so," returned Jean sadly. "The Lord knows what is best; butHe can make the wrath of man to praise Him. Perhaps," she added,looking up with a solemn expression on her sweet face, "perhaps, likeQuentin Dick an' Margaret Wilson, you an' I may never wed."

  They had reached the east end of the Grassmarket as she spoke, and hadturned into it before she observed that they were going wrong, butWallace explained that he had been directed by Black to call on Ramblin'Peter, who lived there, and procure from him some turning-tools. On theway they were so engrossed with each other that they did not at firstobserve the people hurrying towards the lower end of the market. Thenthey became aware that an execution was about to take place.

  "The old story," muttered Wallace, while an almost savage scowl settledon his face.

  "Let us hurry by," said Jean in a low tone. At the moment the unhappyman who was about to be executed raised his voice to speak, as was thecustom in those times.

  Jean started, paused, and turned deadly pale.

  "I ken the voice," she exclaimed.

  As the tones rose in strength she turned towards the gallows and almostdragged her companion after her in her eagerness to get near.

  "It's Mr. Renwick," she said, "the dear servant o' the Lord!"

  Wallace, on seeing her anxiety, elbowed his way through the crowdsomewhat forcibly, and thus made way for Jean till they stood closeunder the gallows. It was a woeful sight in one sense, for it was themurder of a fair and goodly as well as godly man in the prime of life;yet it was a grand sight, inasmuch as it was a noble witnessing untodeath for God and truth and justice in the face of prejudice, passion,and high-handed tyranny.

  The martyr had been trying to address the crowd for some time, but hadbeen barbarously interrupted by the beating of drums. Just then acurate approached him and said, "Mr. Renwick, own our King, and we willpray for you."

  "It's that scoundrel, the Reverend George Lawless," murmured Wallace ina deep and bitter tone.

  "I am come here," replied the martyr, "to bear my testimony against you,and all such as you are."

  "Own our King, and pray for him, whatever ye say of us," returned thecurate.

  "I will discourse no more with you," rejoined Renwick. "I am in alittle to appear before Him who is King of kings and Lord of lords, whoshall pour shame, contempt, and confusion on all the kings of the earthwho have not ruled for Him."

  After this Renwick--as was usual with the
martyrs when about to finishtheir course--sang, read a portion of Scripture, and prayed, in themidst of considerable interruption from the drums. He also managed toaddress the spectators. Among the sentences that reached the ears ofJean and Wallace were the following:--

  "I am come here this day to lay down my life for adhering to the truthsof Christ... I die as a Presbyterian Protestant... I own the Word ofGod as the rule of faith and manners... I leave my testimony against... all encroachments made on Christ's rights, who is the Prince of thekings of the earth."

  The noise of the drums rendered his voice inaudible at this point, andthe executioner, advancing, tied a napkin over his eyes. He was thenordered to go up the ladder. To a friend who stood by him he gave hislast messages. Among them were the words--

  "Keep your ground, and the Lord will provide you teachers and ministers;and when He comes He will make these despised truths glorious in theearth."

  His last words were--"Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit; for thouhast redeemed me, Lord God of truth."

  Thus fell the last, as it turned out, of the martyrs of the Covenants,on the 17th of February 1688. But it did not seem to Will Wallace thatthe storm of twenty-eight long years had almost blown over, as heglanced at the scowling brows and compressed lips of the upturned facesaround him.

  "Come--come away, Jean," he said quickly, as he felt the poor girl hangheavily on his arm, and observed the pallor of her face.

  "Ay, let's gang hame," she said faintly.

  As Will turned to go he encountered a face that was very familiar. Theowner of it gazed at him inquiringly. It was that of his old comrade inarms, Glendinning. Stooping over his companion as if to address her,Wallace tried to conceal his face and pushed quickly through the crowd.Whether Glendinning had recognised him or not, he could not be sure, butfrom that day forward he became much more careful in his movements, wentregularly to his work with Andrew Black before daylight, and did notventure to return each night till after dark. It was a weary andirksome state of things, but better--as Black sagaciously remarked--thanbeing imprisoned on the Bass Rock or shut up in Dunnottar Castle. Butthe near presence of Jean Black had, no doubt, more to do with theresignation of our hero to his position than the fear of imprisonment.

  As time passed, things in the political horizon looked blacker thanever. The King began to show himself more and more in his truecolours--as one who had thoroughly made up his mind to rule as anabsolute monarch and to reclaim the kingdom to Popery. Among otherthings he brought troops over from Ireland to enforce his will, some ofhis English troops having made it abundantly plain that they could notbe counted on to obey the mandates of one who wished to arrogate tohimself unlimited power, and showed an utter disregard of the rights ofthe people. Indeed, on all hands the King's friends began to forsakehim, and even his own children fell away from him at last.

  Rumours of these things, more or less vague, had been reaching Edinburghfrom time to time, causing uneasiness in the minds of some and hope inthe hearts of others.

  One night the usual party of friends had assembled to sup in thedwelling of Mrs. Black. It was the Sabbath. Wallace and Black hadremained close all day--with the exception of an hour before daylight inthe morning when they had gone out for exercise. It was one of thosedreary days not unknown to Auld Reekie, which are inaugurated with apersistent drizzle, continued with a "Scotch mist," and dismissed withan even down-pour. Yet it was by no means a dismal day to our friendsof Candlemaker Row. They were all more or less earnestly religious aswell as intellectual, so that intercourse in reference to the things ofthe Kingdom of God, and reading the Word, with a free-and-easycommentary by Mrs. Black and much acquiescence on the part of Mrs.Wallace, and occasional disputations between Andrew and Bruce, kept themlively and well employed until supper-time.

  The meal had just been concluded when heavy footfalls were heard on thestair outside, and in another moment there was a violent knocking at thedoor. The men sprang up, and instinctively grasped the weapons thatcame first to hand. Wallace seized the poker--a new and heavy one--Andrew the shovel, and Jock Bruce the tongs, while Ramblin' Peterpossessed himself of a stout rolling-pin. Placing themselves hastily infront of the women, who had drawn together and retreated to a corner,they stood on the defensive while Mrs. Black demanded to know whoknocked so furiously "on a Sabbath nicht."

  Instead of answering, the visitors burst the door open, and half-a-dozenof the town-guard sprang in and levelled their pikes.

  "Yield yourselves!" cried their leader. "I arrest you in the King'sname!"

  But the four men showed no disposition to yield, and the resoluteexpression of their faces induced their opponents to hesitate.

  "I ken o' nae King in this realm," said Andrew Black in a deep sternvoice, "an' we refuse to set oor necks under the heel o' a usurpin'tyrant."

  "Do your duty, men," said a man who had kept in the background, but whonow stepped to the front.

  "Ha! this is your doing, Glendinning," exclaimed Wallace, who recognisedhis old comrade. The sergeant had obviously been promoted, for he worethe costume of a commissioned officer.

  "Ay, I have an auld score to settle wi' you, Wallace, an' I hope to seeyou an' your comrades swing in the Grassmarket before lang."

  "Ye'll niver see that, my man," said Black, as he firmly grasped theshovel. "Ye ha'ena gotten us yet, an' it's my opeenion that you an'your freends'll be in kingdom-come before we swing, if ye try to tak' usalive. Oot o' this hoose, ye scoondrels!"

  So saying, Black made a spring worthy of a royal Bengal tiger, turnedaside the pike of the foremost man, and brought the shovel down on hisiron headpiece with such force that he was driven back into the passageor landing, and fell prostrate. Black was so ably and promptly secondedby his stalwart comrades that the room was instantly cleared.Glendinning, driven back by an irresistible blow from the rolling-pin,tripped over the fallen man and went headlong down the winding stairs,at the bottom of which he lay dead, with his neck broken by the fall.

  But the repulse thus valiantly effected did not avail them much, for theleader of the guard had reinforcements below, which he now called up.Before the door could be shut these swarmed into the room and drove thedefenders back into their corner. The leader hesitated, however, togive the order to advance on them, partly, it may be, because he wishedto induce submission and thus avoid bloodshed, and partly, no doubt,because of the terrible aspect of the four desperate men, who, knowingthat the result of their capture would be almost certain death, precededby imprisonment, and probably torture, had evidently made up their mindsto fight to the death.

  At that critical moment a quick step was heard upon the stair, and thenext moment the Reverend Frank Selby entered the room.

  "Just in time, I see," he said in a cool nonchalant manner that washabitual to him. "I think, sir," he added, turning to the leader of theguard, "that it may be as well to draw off your men and return to theguard-room."

  "I'll do that," retorted the man sharply, "when I receive orders from mysuperiors. Just now I'll do my duty."

  "Of course you will do what is right, my good sir," replied the ReverendFrank; "yet I venture to think you will regret neglecting my advice,which, allow me to assure you, is given in quite a friendly anddisinterested spirit. I have just left the precincts of the CouncilChamber, where I was told by a friend in office that the Councillorshave been thrown into a wild and excusable state of alarm by the newsthat William, Prince of Orange, who, perhaps you may know, is James'sson-in-law and nephew, has landed in Torbay with 15,000 Dutchmen. Hecomes by invitation of the nobles and clergy of the kingdom to takepossession of the Crown which our friend James has forfeited, and Jameshimself has fled to France--one of the few wise things of which he hasever been guilty. It is further reported that the panic-stricken PrivyCouncil here talks of throwing open all the prison-doors in Edinburgh,after which it will voluntarily dissolve itself. If it could do so inprussic acid or some chemical solvent suited to the purpose, its ex
itwould be hailed as all the more appropriate. Meanwhile, I am of opinionthat all servants of the Council would do well to retire into as muchprivacy as possible, and then maintain a careful look-out for squalls."

  Having delivered this oration to the gaping guard, the Reverend Frankcrossed the room and went through the forbidden and dangerousperformance of shaking hands heartily with the "rebels."

  He was still engaged in this treasonable act, and the men of thetown-guard had not yet recovered from their surprise, when hurryingfootsteps were again heard on the stair, and a man of the town-guardsprang into the room, went to his chief, and whispered in his ear. Theresult was, that, with a countenance expressing mingled surprise andanxiety, the officer led his men from the scene, and left thelong-persecuted Covenanters in peace.

  "Losh, man! div 'ee railly think the news can be true?" asked AndrewBlack, after they had settled down and heard it all repeated.

  "Indeed I do," said the Reverend Frank earnestly, "and I thank God thata glorious Revolution seems to have taken place, and hope that the long,long years of persecution are at last drawing to a close."

  And Frank Selby was right. The great Revolution of 1688, which setWilliam and Mary on the throne, also banished the tyrannical