He then proffered him his liberty if he would confess that his mother had done wrong, but this he would in no wise do; for, he said, it would be a sinful and shameful lie, he being convinced that his mother had done what was her duty, and the duty of every Christian to do towards his fellow–creatures. Johnston swore he should be shot. Clavers hesitated, and made some objections; but the other persisting, as Clavers knew he would, the latter consented, as formerly, saying, “Well, well, since you will have it so, let it be done—his blood be on your head, I am free of it.—Daniel Roy Macpherson, draw up your file, and put the sentence in execution.” Hyslop kneeled down. They bade him put on his bonnet, and draw it over his eyes; but this he calmly refused, saying, “He had done nothing of which he was ashamed, and could look on his murderers and to Heaven without dismay.” When Macpherson heard this, and looked at him as he kneeled on the ground with his hands pinioned, his beautiful young face turned toward the sky, and his long fair ringlets hanging waving backward, his heart melted within him, and the great tears had for sometime been hopping down his cheeks. When Clavers gave the word of command to shoot the youth, Macpherson drew up his men in a moment—wheeled them off at the side—presented arms—and then answered the order of the general as follows, in a voice that was quite choaked one while, and came forth in great vollies at another—“Now, Cot t‑‑n—sh—sh—she’ll rather pe fighting Clavers and all her draghoons, pe—pe—pefore she’ll pe killing tat dear good lhad.” Captain Bruce burst out into a horse–laugh, leaping and clapping his hands on hearing such a singular reply; even Clavers had much ado to suppress a smile, which, however, he effected by uttering a horrible curse. “I had forgot, Sir James,” said he; “Macpherson is as brave a man as ever strode on a field of battle; but in domestic concerns, he has the heart of a chicken.” He then ordered four of his own guards to shoot him, which they executed in a moment. Some of his acquaintances being present, they requested permission of Clavers to bury him, which he readily granted, and he was interred on the very spot where he fell. A grave stone was afterwards erected over him, which is still to be seen at Craikhaugh, near the side of the road, a little to the north of the Church of Eskdale–muir. Clavers and his prisoner lodged at Westeraw that night. Johnston wanted to have him shot; but to this Clavers objected, though rather in a jocular manner. Walter said, he was sure if Sir James had repeated his request another time, that Clavers’ answer would have been, “Well, well, since you will have it so,” &c.; but, fortunately for Walter, he desisted just in time.