Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 17
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 17
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
Her spirit had been broken,
and life had been rendered a burden to her. She expressed to her murderers,
again and again, a wish that they would send her to meet her uncle (as she
termed it) William. Her body was only discovered some time after, when the
process of decomposition had deformed one of the most pleasing countenances
which ever beamed with innocence and piety.
"The old hound will not be far off, when the young whelp was so near,"
exclaimed Clavers, upon a recital of the inhuman murder. "We must watch the
muirs by night; for it is then that these creatures congregate and fatten.
We must continue to spoil their feasting, and leave them to feed on
cranberries and moss-water." In consequence of this resolution, a strict
watch was set all along Gavin Muir; and it became almost impossible to
convey any sustenance to the famishing pair; yet the thing was done, and
wonderfully managed, not in the night-time, but in the open day. One
shepherd would call to another, in the note of the curlew or the miresnipe,
and without exciting suspicion, convey from the corner of his plaid the
necessary refreshments, even down to a bottle of Nantz. The cave was never
entered on such occasions; but the provisions were dropped amidst the rank
heather; and a particular whistle immediately secured their disappearance.
Night after night, therefore, were these prowlers disappointed of their
object, till at last, despairing of success, or thinking, probably, that
the birds had escaped, they betook themselves, for the time, elsewhere, and
the cairn was relieved from siege. Clavers, in fact, had retired to
Galloway, along with Grierson and Johnstone, and the coast was clear, at
least for the present.
It was about the latter end of October, when Mr Lawson was preaching and
dispensing the Sacrament to upwards of a hundred followers, in the hollow
where stood the King's Chair. This locality was wonderfully well suited for
the purpose--it was, in fact, a kind of amphitheatre, surrounded on all
sides by rising ground, and in the centre of which three large stones
constituted a chair, and several seats of the same material were ranged in
a circular form around. The stones remain to this hour, and the truth of
this description can be verified by any one who crosses Gavin Muir. It was
a moonlight night--a harvest moon--and Mr Lawson, having handed the
Sacramental cup around, was in the act of concluding with prayer, when the
note of a bird, seemingly a plover, was heard at a great distance. It was
responded to by a similar call, somewhat nearer; and, in an instant, a
messenger rushed in upon their retreat, out of breath, and exclaiming, "You
are lost!--you are all dead men!--Clavers is within sight, and at full
gallop, with all his troop at his back."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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