"My son, I cannot tell; only I know that peer and peasant, soldier and civilian, minister and ministered unto, will assemble to-morrow on equal ground, animated by one grand purpose, and stirred by a common zeal. May the God of Hosts look down upon and bless the assembled multitudes," replied the minister; and then a silence fell upon the little party which remained unbroken till they entered the city. Even in the outskirts there were not lacking signs of stir and unusual commotion. The streets were thronged with vehicles and foot-passengers, and the very air seemed full of murmurings, telling of a nation's heart stirred to its deepest depths. The young lad and his sister looked about them with lively interest; to them the city was a revelation indeed, in the great contrast it presented to the unfrequented roads and quiet solitudes of their native parish. Darkness had fallen when the minister guided Roger's steps into the Grass-market, where stood the hospitable dwelling which was to shelter them during their sojourn in Edinburgh. It was the abode of the minister's only sister, who was married to a well-to-do merchant, by name Edward Kilgour. Having been duly apprised of his brother-in-law's coming on that day, Edward Kilgour was waiting at the close mouth, anxiously peering up the street, which was now almost in total darkness, there being no appliances then for lighting the thoroughfares and byeways of the city. Hearing the click of the pony's hoofs, he walked a few steps up the street, and then catching sight of the little party, he called out in his cheery tones, "Andrew Gray of Inverburn, and his little ones, if I mistake not!"
"Yes; thus far hath the Lord permitted us to travel in safety, Edward," said the minister. "How is it with thee and thine?"
"All well; Jean a little impatient and fearful about you, as is the way of womenkind," replied the merchant, heartily shaking his brother-in-law by the hand. "But what! David, and little Agnes too! How did their mother ever trust them so far?" he exclaimed, in surprise, at sight of the children.
"She knew them safe with me, Edward, and I thought that the events of to-morrow might, please God, make an impression on their young minds which time would never efface. And the Kirk, I am thinking, will need both old and young to stand firm in her defence ere she be crowned and blessed with liberty," said the minister, with a sigh.
"You speak the truth, Andrew," replied the merchant, soberly. "Well, I will take Roger to his stall and see that he is rubbed down and fed. Do you take the bairns upstairs: you know the way."
The minister nodded, and taking his boy and girl by the hand, led them up the dark close and into a low doorway, which, unless he had been familiar with the way, would have been difficult to find.
Aunt Jean heard their steps on the stair, and presently appeared on the landing with a candle.
"Bless me! Andrew Gray, is that the bairns all the way from the manse of Inverburn?" she exclaimed, her motherly heart warming at sight of them.
"Even so, Jean. There will be room and welcome for them as well as for their father under this roof-tree," answered the minister. "Edward tells me you are well; and, truly, you look it."
"Oh, ay, I am well in body!" she answered, blithely, and stooping she lifted the little Agnes in her motherly arms, and affectionately kissed her cheeks. "Eh, Andrew, this bairn's her mother's living image. How is Ailie and Jane, and that stirring laddie, Andrew? Why did you leave him at home?"