Covenanters -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- Stuarts, to the Union, 1371-1707 -- Fiction
Considering the fatigue I had undergone for so many days and nights
together, my slumber might have been prolonged perhaps till morning, but
the worthy miller, who withstood the urgency of his terrified wife to
depart till he thought I was rested, soon after the moon rose came into
the mill and wakened me to make ready for the road. So I left my couch
in the loft, and came down to him; and he conducted me a little way from
the house, where, bidding me wait, he went back, and speedily returned
with a small basket in his hand of the stores which the mistress had
provided for himself.
Having put the handle into my hand, he led me down to a steep shoulder
of a precipice nigh the sea-shore, where, telling me to follow the path
along the bottom of the hills, he shook me with a brotherly affection by
the hand, and bade me farewell,--saying, in a jocose manner, to lighten
the heaviness with which he saw my spirit was oppressed,--that the
gudewife would make baith him and Johnnie Jamieson suffer in the body
for the fright she had gotten. "For ye should ken," said he, "that the
terror she was in was a' bred o' Johnnie's pawkerie. He knew that she
was aye in a dread that I would be laid hands on ever since I signed the
remonstrance to the laird; and Johnnie thought, that if he could get her
to send me out provided for the hills, we would find a way to make the
provision yours. So, Gude be wi' you, and dinna be overly downhearted,
when ye see how wonderfully ye are ta'en care o'."
Being thus cherished, cheered, and exhorted, by the worthy miller of
Inverkip, I went on my way with a sense of renewed hope dawning upon my
heart. The night was frosty, but clear, and the rippling of the sea
glittered as with a sparkling of gladness in the beams of the moon then
walking in the fulness of her beauty over those fields of holiness whose
perennial flowers are the everlasting stars. But though for a little
while my soul partook of the blessed tranquillity of the night, I had
not travelled far when the heaven of my thoughts was overcast. Grief
for my brother in the hands of the oppressors, and anxiety for the
treasures of my hearth, whose dangers were doubtless increased by the
part I had taken in the raid, clouded my reason with many fearful
auguries and doleful anticipations. All care for my own safety was lost
in those overwhelming reflections, in so much that when the morning air
breathed upon me as I reached the brow of Kilbride-hill, had I been then
questioned as to the manner I had come there, verily I could have given
no account, for I saw not, neither did I hear, for many miles, aught,
but only the dismal tragedies with which busy imagination rent my heart
with affliction, and flooded my eyes with the gushing streams of a
softer sorrow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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