Accordingly, at the hour appointed, and in the manner already mentioned, the men were secured whilst asleep, and bound and guarded; whilst Mr Austin, still incapable of walking, was conveyed on horseback—with his wife behind him, and two men holding him up on each side—over the long moor towards Moffat. It was about five o’clock in the morning when the party arrived at its destination, and the flying couple were placed for the time in a place of safety. Upon the return of the young men to Brownrig, they found nothing but a heap of smoking ruins. Dalziell, who had received information of the meditated flight, but who had not learned in what direction it was to be conducted, came about half an hour after their departure, upon the farm-steading of Brownrig; and, not being able, on account of the yird-drift, to trace the fugitives, he returned in wrath upon the inhabitants of the place, whom, after exchanging a few shots, and wounding one man severely in the leg, he ultimately captured; liberated the soldiers, and then, in the presence of the whole party, coolly set fire to the thatched dwellings, and kept close guard till the fire had done its commission. Owing to the extreme cold and constant state of excitement, Mrs Austin fevered soon after her arrival at Moffat, and died in her husband’s arms, exhorting him, with her last breath, to persevere in the good cause which he had undertaken; so much had “trial and trouble” altered the views and sanctified the heart of this weak but upright and pious woman.