Covenanters -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Stuarts, to the Union, 1371-1707 -- Fiction
Hepburn uttered an angry ban, and would have turned the old man away by
the shoulder; but the combatants saw they were in the peril of a
quarrel, and many of them cried aloud, "He's in the right, and we're
playing the fool for the diversion o' our adversaries." So the townsmen
and the country folk shook hands; but instead of renewing the contest,
Captain Bannerman proposed that they should all go through their
discipline together, it being manifest that there were little odds in
their skill, and none in their courage. The which prudent admonition
pacified all parties, and the remainder of the day was spent in
cordiality and brotherly love. Towards the conclusion of the exercises,
worthy Mr Swinton came on the field; and when the business of the day
was over, he stepped forward, and the trained men being formed around
him, the onlookers standing on the outside, he exhorted them in prayer,
and implored a blessing on their covenanted union, which had the effect
of restoring all their hearts to a religious frame and a solemnity
befitting the spirituality of their cause.
CHAPTER XLII
One night, about a month after the ploy whereof I have spoken in the
foregoing chapter, just as my father had finished the worship, and the
family were composing themselves round the fireside for supper, we were
startled by the sound of a galloping horse coming to the door; and
before any one had time to open it, there was a dreadful knocking with
the heft of the rider's whip. It was Nahum Chapelrig, who being that day
at Kilmarnock, had heard, as he was leaving the town, the cry get up
there that the Aggressor was coming from York with all the English
power, and he had flown far and wide on his way home publishing the
dismal tidings.
My father, in a sober manner, bade him alight and partake of our supper,
questioning him sedately anent what he had heard; but Nahum was raised,
and could give no satisfaction in his answers; he, however, leapt from
his horse, and drawing the bridle through the ring at the door-cheek,
came ben to the fire where we had all so shortly before been
harmoniously sitting. His eyes were wide and wild; his hair, with the
heat he was in, was as if it had been pomated; his cheeks were white,
his lips red, and he panted with haste and panic.
"They're coming," he cried, "in thousands o' thousands; never sic a
force has crossed the Border since the day o' Flodden Field. We'll a'
either be put to the sword, man, woman, and child, or sent in slavery to
the plantations."
"No," replied my father, "things are no just come to that pass; we have
our swords yet, and hearts and hands to use them."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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