"I believed that the time had come when resistance was demanded of us by the God of the Covenant, else I had not gone forth with them, Susan," answered the minister. "But now I must away to my hiding, for it is as much as my life is worth to be seen here in the light of day. How is it with my father, and poor Jane, left desolate in the house of Rowallan?"
"Your father is keeping well, and is safe in his hiding yet. Gavin is with his aunt, they were both here yester'een," answered Mistress Gray. "The maids have all run away in terror from Rowallan, and Jane came to tell me she had hired one who came seeking a place two days ago. She has been in the service of the laird, but was dismissed for some offence. Gavin says he likes not her appearance, but Jane seems pleased with her, for she is a good worker, and a prudent person, who is never heard about the place."
"Ah, well, the master himself, I hope and trust, will be home to his own house in a day or two, and yet, he will need to keep himself in hiding, for very sure am I, Susan, that after the valiant front he showed at Rullion Green, and the many dragoons he caused to lick the dust, Adam Hepburn will be a marked man henceforth."
Susan Gray very mournfully shook her head.
"Had ye all bidden peaceably at home, there had been none of this," she said, regretfully. "But men folk maun aye have their way."
The minister smiled; then bidding her and the little ones farewell, he stole away down the glen, and along the bank of the stream, to the hole in the Corbie's Cliff.
Looking carefully round to see that none was in sight, he scrambled up the rocky steep, brushed aside the overhanging branches, and plunged into the darkness of the subterraneous passage. Being now very familiar with the way, he had no difficulty in following the many peculiar windings of the passage, and at length he caught sight of the dim reflection of a lighted lamp in the distance, which warned him that he was nearing his father's shelter.
Lest his sudden appearance in the cave should alarm the old man, he called out "Father!" several times, as he quickly approached, and at the sound of the familiar voice, the old man sprang hastily to his feet, and ran to the mouth of the passage.
"My son, David! praise the Lord!" he exclaimed, while tears of joy coursed down his withered cheeks.
After the first glad greetings were over, David Gray sat down, and briefly rehearsed all that had befallen him since he set out with the Covenanting army for Edinburgh. As was natural, the recital greatly saddened the heart of his aged father, for he had solaced himself in his solitary captivity with glowing visions of the success which would attend his brethren in arms, and of the happy results which might accrue from their vigorous upstanding for the truth.