In a short space of time the darkness of the night was illumined by the flames of the burning cottage, and the three defenceless women, now rendered indeed utterly homeless, hastily gathered such small but valuable things as they could carry, and, withdrawing themselves a little, watched the rapid destruction of the only shelter they could call their own on the face of the earth. Yet they could not feel utterly cast down, since God had so marvellously delivered the dear fugitive out of the hands of the pursuer once more. The captain and his troop immediately rode away down to the village, to inflict themselves on such of the inhabitants as could yet give them bite and sup and shelter for the night. Meanwhile David Gray fled, under the grateful cover of the darkness, by the familiar field-paths to poor Watty’s famous hiding, where he knew he should find both shelter and comforting welcome from his brethren. His long residence in the cleugh had made him so familiar with it, that even in the darkness he had no difficulty whatever in finding the thicket which hid the cave. And yet he had to creep slowly and with caution, for the nettles and brambles and brushwood proved very formidable to his uncovered limbs, and his feet were already bleeding from coming into contact with the stones as he made his rapid flight from the cottage. As he came up nearly to the mouth of the cave, he gave a long, low whistle, which Jane had told him was a signal understood by those in hiding. In a few minutes it was answered by a similar sound, and the brushwood was carefully swept aside from the mouth of the cave, and he saw the figure of a man. "Who comes?" a voice said, in an anxious whisper. "A brother in sore straits, whom the Lord, of His good pleasure, hath this night marvellously delivered," answered David Gray, and at that the man standing at the mouth of the cave stretched out his hand and drew the new-comer into the dimly-lighted recess beyond. In this place there were no fewer than seven persons, both old, young, and middle-aged, whose faces were thin and worn, as if they had suffered much privation. They looked with no little astonishment upon the strangely-attired figure which appeared so suddenly in their midst, and one, an elderly man, of very grave and reverent aspect, after looking intently on his face, jumped up and grasped him by the hand. "David Gray, an I mistake not, whom I last saw in grips with the enemy at Bothwell Brig!" he exclaimed. "And whom the Lord hath marvellously preserved from that woeful day to this," supplemented David Gray. "Little did I think last time we met, Mr. Donald Cargill, that we should look upon each other’s faces again, and in this place of all places."