Thus they parted: Katharine into her long vacant house, and Nanny over to Riskinhope. The farmer of Riskinhope (David Bryden of Eldin–hope), was ruined by the sequestration of his stock by Clavers, but the shepherds and other servants still lingered about the house for better or for worse. There was not a sheep on that large farm, save about five scores of good ewes, that Davie Tait, the herd of Whithope, had turned slyly over into the hags of the Yokeburn–head, that day the drivers took away the stock. When Clavers made his last raid up by Chapelhope, all the family of Riskinhope fled to the hills, and betook them to cover, every one by himself; and there, with beating hearts, peeped through the heath and the rash–bush, to watch the motions of that bloody persecutor. Perilous was their case that day, for had any of them been found in that situation, it would have been enough; but Davie well knew it was good for him to keep out of the way, for Mr Renwick, and Mr Shields, as well as other wanderers, had been sheltered in his house many a night, and the latter wrote his _Hind let Loose_ in a small house at the side of Winterhopeburn. Yet Davie was not a Cameronian, properly speaking, nor a very religious man neither; but the religious enthusiasm of his guests had broke him a little into their manner, and way of thinking. He had learned to make family exercise, not however to very great purpose, for the only thing very remarkable in it was the strong nasal Cameronian whine of his prayer, and its pastoral allusions; but he was grown fond of exhibiting in that line, having learned the Martyr’s tune, and the second part of the Dundee, which formed the whole range of his psalmody! Yet Davie liked a joke as well as ever he did, and perhaps as well as any part of divine worship. When one remarked to him that his family music was loud enough, but very discordant,—“Ay,” quoth Davie, “but it’s a lang gate atween here an’ Heaven; a’ music’s good i’ the distance; I hae strong faith in that. I hae some hope i’ Dan’s bass too; it has _great effect_. I was wantin him to tak some salts an’ sinny leaf to help it a wee.” That night after Nanny came over, Davie had prayed as usual, and among other things, had not forgot the Brownie of Bodsbeck, that “he might be skelpit wi’ the taws o’ divine wrath, an’ sent back to hell wi’ the sperks on his hips; and that the angel of presence might keep watch over their couches that night, to scare the howlaty face o’ him away, an’ learn him to keep his ain side o’ the water.”