Dark looks were exchanged, and as the music grew faint, all seemed to breathe more freely. Then the querulous voice of Lord Mersington was heard, and in the half-lighted hall, his dwarfish figure, clad in his senatorial robes, was dimly seen on the rostrum, and, as he addressed the convention, from the effect of his recent potations and over exertion, he swayed on his heels like a statue on a pivot. His speech was somewhat to the following purpose. "That for sae mickle as the vile and bloody papistical James, Duke of Albany and York, having assumed the regal sceptre without the oath required for due maintenance of religion, and having altered the ancient constitution of the kingdom by ane exertion of tyrannous and arbitrary power, had forfeited all richt to the crown of Scotland, now and for ever; that it be forthwith settled on the Statholder William, and Mary his spouse; that there be made a list of grievances to be redressed, and a new act framit, anent witchcraft, papacy, prelacy, and ither abominations." The last echoes of the trumpets of Dundee had died away under the arch of the Netherbow Port, and the motions of Mersington were carried with universal approbation. "Thus," says the author of _Caledonia_ "the revolution in England was conducted constitutionally by the parliament; but in Scotland, unconstitutionally by the convention. The English _found_ a vacancy of the throne, the Scots _made_ one; the one grave and regarding law, the other vehement and disregarding it." With a heaviness of heart, a deep and morbid sadness against which he struggled in vain, Walter rode down the steep Leith Wynd. He was now a private trooper under Dundee, and leaving Lilian far behind him; for he was going, he foresaw, to perish under the fallen banner of a desperate cause and ruined king; but soon the clash of the cymbals, the fanfare of the trumpets, the tramp of the stately horses, the high bearing of their gallant riders, and that innate loftiness of soul, which made Dunbarton and Dundee rise superior to their fortune, and seem to set fate at defiance, communicated a new ardour to his heart, and it soon beat responsive to the martial music, as the troop of cavaliers traversed the city's northern ridge, and riding by the Long Gate saw the morning sun rising afar off above the snow clad Lammermuir, gilding Preston Bay, the far hills of Fife, and the shining waters of the dark blue Forth. Dundee rode near Fenton, who, finding more than once, the dark and pensive eyes of this singularly handsome soldier fixed upon him with something of that foredoomed expression, indicative of his future fate and fame, he ventured to ask, "Whither go you, my lord?"