Lifting their heads the fugitives saw three dragoons emerge from the mouth of the Corbie's Cliff and look all round them, as if expecting to see those for whom they sought. In mortal terror the miserable Covenanters laid themselves flat down on their faces and pulled the friendly bracken over them, and waited breathlessly, thinking the dragoons would be certain to scour the entire glen.
"If they come I think I could silence the three," said Adam Hepburn, grimly; "only they might, by their cries, bring some of their mounted comrades upon us. They are not far distant, I trow, for I can hear the neighing of their horses even here."
After a few minutes' suspense, the anxious fugitives saw the dragoons re-enter the mouth of the cave; then they slowly crept yet a little farther along the glen, for every moment spent in this comparatively exposed place was not only precious, but laden with deadly peril. At length they arrived unmolested at the base of the steep hill behind Hartrigge, and, as it was crowned with a thick belt of fir trees, there was no fear of them being seen from above.
The minister of Inverburn, whose feeble strength was now utterly spent through excitement and suspense, had to be half carried up the rocky ascent, but at length all landed safely in the cave. It was but a small place, and very damp; a great contrast in every way to the comfortable hiding at Rowallan. After having recovered a little from his fatigue, the minister of Inverburn folded his hands and returned thanks for their deliverance; but Adam Hepburn sat gloomily in a corner, his hands grasping his sword, for it was foreign to his nature to flee before the enemy, and he felt as if he had sullied his manhood by deserting Rowallan, and leaving Jane Gray to encounter the dragoons alone. And yet there are times when even the bravest soldier is forced to admit that discretion is the better part of valour.
Meanwhile the body of dragoons, under command of Captain Ingram, who had ridden up to the glen to disperse the conventicle, baulked of their prey, had proceeded to Hartrigge, it being the only house in view. Captain Ingram was a very different man from his brother officer, who had so peaceably performed his duty at Rowallan. He was of a short, burly figure, with a countenance much swollen and disfigured by his drunken excesses, and his fiery eye gave some expression to the fierce and choleric nature of his temper. He was utterly void of one kindly feeling or generous impulse, and his troops were famous for their brutal and disgraceful behaviour, it being said of them that they showed no mercy to man, woman, or child.
Mistress Gray, who with her son, Gavin, had been present at the conventicle, had been in the house some little time before the dragoons surrounded Hartrigge.
The little ones, who had remained at home under charge of Jeanie, who was growing more sensible and womanly every day, began to cry at sight of the soldiers, remembering the occasion of their former visit, and how their father had been carried off as a prisoner. Gavin, however, exhibited his usual fearless spirit, and ran to the kitchen cupboard for the old fowling-piece; yet, poor lad, what could he do with it, against the powerful arms of a company of dragoons? Captain Ingram did not trouble to alight, but thundered at the door of the house with the butt-end of his musket, a summons which brought Mistress Gray tremblingly to the threshold.
"Hey, mistress! is this not the house of that vile renegade, Andrew Gray, son of the notorious field-preacher, the minister of Inverburn?" he asked, fiercely.
"It is the house of Andrew Gray," she made answer, sadly. "And I would that he were within its walls. They have not sheltered him these many weary days."
"Are you his wife? and are these his brats?" asked the Captain, pointing to the little ones clinging to her skirts.