When Sir James Turner and his troop arrived at Inverburn, he, with his subordinate officers, was immediately offered shelter by the laird, while the men were drafted upon various households in the village, notably those who were known to be very zealous Presbyterians. Watty McBean’s house was taken possession of by four coarse, swearing, drunken soldiers, who raised Watty’s ire to the utmost pitch and nearly frightened Betty out of her wits, besides eating her out of house and home. At nightfall on the day of their arrival, Watty stole away through the fields to Rowallan to give timely warning to its inmates to get the minister removed out of the way before he should be taken prisoner. He crept up to the room window and gave a familiar tap on the lower pane, lest a knocking at the door might alarm the household. Adam Hepburn himself came to the door, and, at a sign from Watty, stepped outside. "I’ve jest come tae warn ye, Adam Hepburn, that Turner an’ the sodgers came this nicht," he whispered. "An’ by what I hear the rascals, wha hae taen my hoose frae me, sayin’ tae ane anither, it’s oor minister an’ the minister o’ Broomhill they’re after. Hae ye ony means o’ getten Maister Gray outen the road?" Adam Hepburn nodded. "We knew the soldiers were on their way to Inverburn, and I’ll warrant they’ll no lay hands on the minister, or they’ll be sharper than I think them. Come in, Watty, and speak to Mr. Gray. He’s still with us in the house." "Ye dinna mean to say so!" exclaimed Watty in consternation. "Certy ye’re no feared. If ye take my advice ye’ll get him awa’ intae safe hidin’ as sune as possible. I was sayin’ tae Bettie I kent a bonnie howdie hole on the Douglas Water doon the Sanquhar road a bit, that it wad puzzle the sodgers tae find." "Keep your secret for awhile, Watty. It may be useful some day," said Adam Hepburn, and beckoning to Watty, he ushered him into the warm ingle-neuk, where sat the minister of Inverburn in undisturbed serenity, with his daughters by his side. "Good evening to you, Watty McBean, my faithful friend," said the minister, rising to shake hands with Watty. "What tidings have ye brought?" "No very braw [nice] for leddie’s ears. The sodgers have come upon Inverburn at last, an’ gin they bide lang ther’ll be neither bite nor sup, nor an article o’ gear in the parish," answered Watty dolefully. "The four villains quartered on us have already pocketed my watch an’ my mither’s spunes, no’ tae speak o’ Betty’s brooch she got frae yer lamented wife." Agnes Hepburn’s pale cheek grew, if possible, a shade whiter, and instinctively her husband moved to the back of her chair, and laid his firm hand on her trembling shoulder as if to re-assure her.