Like the rush of a mighty wind Dalziel’s cavalry came sweeping down upon the right wing of the insurgents’ army, which was protected by a party of horse. They were manfully received, and after a vigorous struggle, completely repulsed. The general was amazed at the fighting power of the rebels, whom he had contemptuously imagined to be a gathering of raw country folk, who would turn tail at the first attack of practised soldiery. He hastily organised and led a second attack, which was met and repulsed as before, with considerable loss. Had the insurgents possessed a reserve of cavalry, victory had assuredly been theirs, in spite of the odds against them, but these repeated attacks had slain many of their horse, and those on foot were unequal to a lengthened struggle. Wildly the din of battle roared in the mountain solitudes, and swiftly, as if in pity, the shadows of the night crept over the bleak hill tops, and up the sombre valleys, until it wrapped conquerors and conquered in its kindly folds. The Covenanters were completely routed, and had the night not speedily fallen, they must have been totally cut to pieces. As it was, fifty of their number lay dead upon the field, besides many wounded, whom they had to leave to their fate. There were also more than a hundred taken prisoners, who envied the untroubled sleep of those who had fallen in the fray. Adam Hepburn, although fighting in the very hottest forefront of the battle, marvellously escaped unhurt. Dalziel had kept an eye upon him, for he was the most desperate fighter, as well as the surest marksman among the insurgents. He never missed his aim. Twice Dalziel ordered a subordinate to engage him in single combat, or shoot him down from a distance; but the man seemed to bear a charmed life. When the fray was over, Dalziel examined the faces of the prisoners minutely, hoping to find Hepburn among them, but was disappointed. Fleeing among the very last of his brethren from the field, Adam Hepburn came up with his brother-in-law, the minister of Broomhill, whom he recognised in the darkness by his ministerial garb. "Is that you, David, safe and sound?" he asked, breathlessly. "Yes! how is it with you, Adam Hepburn?" asked the minister, anxiously. "All well; I have found my first taste of warfare very sweet this day, David Gray." "You fought valiantly, Adam, so much so that I was amazed. How did you escape, being ever, as you were, in the thickest of the fray?" "I know not; I had no thought of anything but cutting down the enemy and of avenging the blood of my murdered Agnes," said Adam Hepburn, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. The minister sighed. The blessing of God could not rest upon warfare conducted under such a revengeful spirit, and yet he could scarcely blame the man for the bitterness of his wrath.