"'In Judah's land God is well-known, His name in Israel great, In Salem is his tabernacle, In Zion is his seat.' But no, no, my sweet chick of canticles, not so fast, dear, not so fast--neither you nor old grunty must budge a foot-length from the place where you now stand--sit or lie, as you please--till you get permission from this here person with the King's authority on both his shoulders." In the meantime, everything in the house had been turned topsy-turvy, and the eleventh commandment, as they facetiously denominated the broadsword, had been passed through all manner of pierceables; when, enraged at being foiled of his prey when so nearly securing it, Clavers ordered the hut to be set on fire, and the old hunks to be thrown into the midst of it. "As to this young chick," said he, giving her chin a rude blow upwards, "why, I do not know that I shall burn her till Halloween, and then she will skip and flame on the hearth-stane amongst the nuts." No sooner said than done--the house was immediately set fire to at all the four corners, whilst the brutal soldiery stood round watching, and making sport of some mice, whom their instinct led to escape. Marion Morrison was actually in the rude hands of the soldiers, when fear of the consequences, or, it may be, something resembling humanity, led Clavers to give orders to let the b---- live, to plague the whole village for half a century to come. In the meantime, Mr Robert Ramsay, the manager of the lead-mines, appeared, to remonstrate with Clavers for his very unhandsome treatment of the women, and his destruction of property which belonged to the family of Hopetoun. It being the time, too, when the workmen shifted their labours, the hill-side poured forth, its fifties and hundreds, as if it had actually teemed with life. Clavers and his men were immediately surrounded with a grim and an incensed crowd, headed by their much-esteemed manager--the father, as was afterwards the case, of the celebrated Allan Ramsay, who thus celebrates the place of his birth-- "Of Crawford Moor--born in Leadhill-- Where mineral springs Glengonner fill, Which joins sweet-flowing Clyde, Between auld Crawford Lindsay's towers And where Duneaton rapid pours His stream to Glotta's tide." In vain did Ramsay remonstrate with Clavers. He boasted his Orders in Council; defied all remonstrance; ordered his men to charge; and, firing on the crowd right and left, made his escape to the hills. Providentially no one was even hurt; and it was strongly suspected that, knowing he had already rather exceeded his commission, he had ordered the dragoons to charge without ball-cartridge. After this affair was over, the district was freed, for a time, from the hateful presence of the King's troops, as they were known to be occupied on a similar office in Annandale, and the higher district of Nithsdale.