During the silent watches of the night the minister of Inverburn wrestled in prayer for Scotland's Church and people, that they might be upheld and kept faithful in the tumults of the struggle to come.
CHAPTER II.
A NATION'S TESTIMONY.
Chill and grey broke the morning of that memorable day over the city of Edinburgh. The inmates of Edward Kilgour's household were early astir, and the elder folk partook of breakfast by candlelight.
"I suppose your place of business will be closed to-day?" said the minister enquiringly to his brother-in-law.
"Yes; there will be little business done to-day, I fancy, except by the taverns and other places of like resort, which must be open to supply refreshments to the many strangers," replied Edward Kilgour. "There will be a goodly number of Inverburn folks in this morning?"
"Yes, Adam Hepburn of Rowallan, and a party with him, were to start on the evening of the day on which we left," replied the minister. "They would arrive a few hours' later than us--their animals being swifter of foot than our 'Roger.'"
"What is the Laird of Inverburn saying to the Covenant, Andrew?" asked Mistress Kilgour, replenishing her brother's cup with milk, which, with some wheaten cakes, composed his frugal meal.
A slight shade of sadness stole over the minister's fine face.
"Truly, Jean, Sir Thomas Hamilton proves himself a loyal subject and a faithful servant of the king. They tell me he uses the Liturgy in his household devotions, and he has never been in his pew in my church since the proclamation concerning the new book of service. I am told too, on good authority, that my neighbour minister, John Methven of Lochlee, uses it in the services of his church, in accordance with the express desire of the laird who worships there every Sabbath Day."