Bothwell Bridge, Battle of, Scotland, 1679 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- 1660-1688 -- Fiction; War stories
"Peace," said Macbriar, somewhat disconcerted; "it is not for thee to
instruct tender professors, or to construe Covenant obligations. For the
rest, you have acknowledged enough of sin and sorrowful defection, to
draw down defeat on a host, were it as numerous as the sands on the
sea-shore. And it is our judgment, that we are not free to let you pass
from us safe and in life, since Providence hath given you into our hands
at the moment that we prayed with godly Joshua, saying, 'What shall we
say when Israel turneth their backs before their enemies?'--Then camest
thou, delivered to us as it were by lot, that thou mightest sustain the
punishment of one that hath wrought folly in Israel. Therefore, mark my
words. This is the Sabbath, and our hand shall not be on thee to spill
thy blood upon this day; but, when the twelfth hour shall strike, it is a
token that thy time on earth hath run! Wherefore improve thy span, for it
flitteth fast away.--Seize on the prisoner, brethren, and take his
weapon."
The command was so unexpectedly given, and so suddenly executed by those
of the party who had gradually closed behind and around Morton, that he
was overpowered, disarmed, and a horse-girth passed round his arms,
before he could offer any effectual resistance. When this was
accomplished, a dead and stern silence took place. The fanatics ranged
themselves around a large oaken table, placing Morton amongst them bound
and helpless, in such a manner as to be opposite to the clock which was
to strike his knell. Food was placed before them, of which they offered
their intended victim a share; but, it will readily be believed, he had
little appetite. When this was removed, the party resumed their
devotions. Macbriar, whose fierce zeal did not perhaps exclude some
feelings of doubt and compunction, began to expostulate in prayer, as if
to wring from the Deity a signal that the bloody sacrifice they proposed
was an acceptable service. The eyes and ears of his hearers were
anxiously strained, as if to gain some sight or sound which might be
converted or wrested into a type of approbation, and ever and anon dark
looks were turned on the dial-plate of the time-piece, to watch its
progress towards the moment of execution.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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