"Oh, nothing, but just that I had a most extraordinary dream the night before I heard tell o' my husband's death, which, if you will not laugh at me for relating such a thing, I should like to tell you."
On Mrs. Johnstone assuring her that the opinion she herself entertained on the subject of her own dreams was much too serious for her ever to ridicule those narrated by other people, Mrs. Hamilton commenced as follows:—
"Well, as I told you before, it was the night preceding the day on which I heard tell o' the death of my husband, and I could not well account for it; but the whole o' that day I had been rale douie and dispirited, just as one often feels before hearing bad news o' some sort or other; so much so, that I gaed away early to my bed, in hopes that a good sleep would do me good. For a long time, not one wink o' sleep could I get, do what I could, until at length, in a fit of desperation, I sprang out of bed, and took a turn or two up and down the room, to see if that would cool the fever of my blood. It did so, and shortly after I fell into a deep slumber. Well, Mrs. Johnstone, during that sleep I had the following dream, which even yet impresses me more than I should like to tell. Methought the door of my room suddenly opened, and in stepped a figure all clad in white, and o' a fair and beauteous countenance, which, approaching the side o' my bed, said in a sweet mournful voice, which sounded just like the sighing wind, 'Jeanie Hamilton, you must this instant rise and follow me!' Upon which I replied, 'And wherefore am I to follow you?' 'Ask no questions,' said the beautiful vision, 'but come away.' Well, wi' that I raise out o' my bed, almost as it were in spite o' myself, and away I gaed after the figure, which seemed to me to flee swiftly as a soul, when freed from its mortal coil, would cleave the air in its passage to another world. Onwards we went, until we came to a dark dismal plain; and never did I see anything so dreary as the aspect o' that place! Then my guide stopt, and taking me by the hand, said, 'now I must lead you; our way lies through this moor;' and I thought in my sleep that I trembled all over, as hand in hand with the radiant figure I traversed the desolate-looking plain, which to my horror I perceived to be thickly strewn with dead bodies. Oh, how my heart sickened at that fearful sight! there they lay, the old and the young, all huddled together, sleeping the last long sleep of death. 'Stop, stop,' I said to my guide; 'oh, do let me turn back—I cannot go onwards; what means this? why have you brought me here?' The vision smiled sadly, and without a reply, still motioned me onwards. I could not resist. A mysterious indescribable power, as it were, impelled me to follow, until at length it paused, and pointing to the prostrate form of a man, whom to my horror I discovered to be my husband, lying cold and stiff, with a deep wound on his forehead, said, 'It was to take a last look of him you loved so well that I brought you here,' and with that it disappeared. The cry of anguish which I uttered on hearing this awoke me from my slumber: and oh, Mrs. Johnstone, you cannot think what I suffered from the remembrance of that dream, for, from that moment, I felt convinced that my husband had perished on the battle field. Well, in the course of the following day, when a near neighbour, who had been at the Pentlands, came to apprise me of John Hamilton's death, I told him, so convinced was I of the truth of my dream of the previous night, before ever he had spoken a word, that I knew he had come to tell me o' my husband's death. The man stood staring at me in breathless astonishment, apparently at a loss to comprehend my meaning, until I told him o' the strange dream I had had; and what do you think, Mrs. Johnstone," added Mrs. Hamilton, sinking her voice to a whisper, "my husband had been killed on the previous day, and by a sabre wound on his forehead."
"Bless me," exclaimed Mrs. Johnstone, at the close of her friend's narration, "that is the most singular thing I ever heard; undoubtedly it was a warning sent to prepare you for the sad news you were about to hear."
"That is just my own opinion on the matter," said Mrs. Hamilton, as she proceeded to put a huge piece o' coal on the top of the smouldering embers; after which signal of preparation for departure, the friends retired to rest.
Immediately after partaking of breakfast on the following morning, Jeanie Irving expressed her intention of at once proceeding to the Greyfriars' Church-yard, to see if she could by any means obtain admittance to William Telford. Accordingly, accompanied by her aunt, who would on no account permit her to go forth alone—and carrying in her hand a small basket of provisions, which the kindness of Mrs. Hamilton supplied—she set forth on her mission. The nearer they advanced towards their destination, the more did poor Jeanie Irving's heart sink within her; for the first time since leaving home she dwelt cooly and calmly on the arduous undertaking before her, and realized the real difficulty of the task she had determined to achieve. Mrs. Johnstone perceiving how much her niece was engrossed by her own thoughts, abstained from addressing her until they arrived at the Greyfriars' Church-yard, the gate of which was surrounded by a numerous crowd of men and women clamorous to obtain admission to the prisoners.
The sentinels apparently took advantage of their situation to annoy and insult the trembling petitioners, many of whom they bade go about their business, after having deprived them of the provisions they carried; others, again, they permitted to enter, but not until they had taken from them the greater portion of the food and clothing they had brought to comfort and assist their friends. With a trembling heart and faltering steps, Jeanie Irving was advancing towards the sentinels, when a sweet feminine voice whispered in her ear, "For God's sake! leave that worthy woman behind, and take me with you; three going in at once would excite suspicion, and there is one in that church-yard I must see to-day, yet I lack courage to venture in alone." Jeanie Irving turned and looked on the speaker, whom, although clad in the meanest attire, and having her face concealed beneath a coarse woollen shawl, she perceived by her graceful bearing to be some person of consequence, and being of a kind sympathising nature, she at once acceded to the wishes of the stranger, and turning to her aunt, explained the necessity there was of her remaining without until she returned. Mrs. Johnstone, who had also arrived at her own conclusions regarding the individual who was addressing her niece, expressed her willingness to comply with her request; accordingly, Jeanie Irving, whose arm was instantly grasped by the trembling hand of her new acquaintance, continued her way towards the gate. Fortunately, the sentinel who stood nearest the shrinking maidens proved to be less strict than the others, and allowed them to enter the church-yard without interruption. With eager eyes did Jeanie Irving and her companion scan each group of men as they passed, in order to discover the faces of those so fondly loved. Apparently the stranger soon discovered him she sought, for suddenly disengaging her arm from that of Jeanie's, she bade God bless her! for her kindness, and darted towards an elegant young man, evidently of high birth, who stood a little way apart from the others. Jeanie Irving paused for a few seconds to witness the rapturous greeting exchanged between the pair, and again continued her wistful search.
In the meantime, William Telford was standing in a remote corner of the church-yard engaged in earnest conversation with three others, when the trembling shrinking form of a young girl advancing towards them caught his eye. One glance was sufficient; and Jeanie Irving was that instant clasped in the arms of her lover.
"Jeanie," gasped forth William Telford, as again and again he kissed the cold lips of her who lay speechless on his shoulder. He could say no more. Both were overcome with an excess of joy almost painful in its intensity, but hearts and eyes were busy during the time that speech was denied them.
Those individuals who were standing near them, respecting the feelings of the lovers, withdrew a little aside, in order that they might enjoy uninterrupted intercourse.