"Him!" interrupted the old man; "no, no; he was a brand reserved for the burning; no sermons, however forcible, would have had the slightest effect on his black nature; his heart would have resisted the knocks of the minister, as the stone resisteth the hammer."
Here the labourer, by way of illustration, inflicted with his implement a vigorous stroke on an obdurate piece of rock, which effectually resisted all his attempts to reduce its dimensions.
"That hill," I observed, alluding to the one previously mentioned by Mrs. Walker, "seems to have been the theatre of many an evil deed; was it not there that the Laird executed judgment on many of the poor men who chanced to fall into his power?"
The old man gazed for a moment on the hill in question, then with a shake of the head, accompanied by a deep-drawn sigh, confirmed Mrs. Walker's statements to their fullest extent, dwelling at considerable length on the many acts of butchery perpetrated on the summit of the eminence, which, covered with a sombre mass of dark firs, frowned gloomily upon us.
"Is there no story you can recall to remembrance connected with some of Sir Robert Grierson's wild exploits?" I inquired, fully persuaded from the old man's garrulity that his memory was like a well-stored garner in respect to these matters, and that a little time and leisure were all that was necessary to produce some thrilling narration of horror—some marvellous tale still treasured up in the breasts of a few, relating to the days of persecution. I was not disappointed. The old man, thus appealed to, stood silent for a moment, as if buried in deep thought, then throwing his hammer carelessly from him, he leisurely seated himself on the pile of stones beside him, and after a few preparatory hems, commenced the following tale, which clothed in my own language is now presented to the reader.
On a fine spring evening in the year sixteen hundred and eighty-five, that year so fraught with gloom and disaster to all espousing the Covenanting cause, a young man, who, judging from his military garb and martial appearance, belonged to one of those militia regiments then scouring the country in search of those they were commissioned to kill or make captive, came riding slowly along the road leading from Irongray to Dunscore. He was evidently in a thoughtful mood, for his forehead was contracted by a deep frown and his eyes were bent steadily on the ground so as to render him oblivious to the motions of his charger, which, finding from the slackened rein and idle spur that his former impatient master had ceased to hasten his onward progress, speedily took advantage of this discovery to snatch a few mouthfuls of grass which grew in wild luxuriance along the sides of the road. This little indulgence of his inclinations being allowed to pass unpunished, the poor animal, apparently worn out by his previous hard work, finally came to a stand-still and proceeded leisurely to crop the tempting herbage presented to his view. This sudden stoppage on the part of his charger, speedily aroused the soldier from the absorbing reverie into which he had fallen, and snatching up the neglected reins, he thrust his rowels into his sides and forced him into a hand-gallop. For some little time he pursued his rapid career, until his horse, accidentally treading on a stone, stumbled, and being unable to recover his lost footing, fell heavily on the road, bearing his rider with him. For one moment, the horseman lay stunned and motionless from the force of the shock; but speedily recovering his scattered senses, he extricated his feet from the stirrups, and proceeded to raise his fallen charger. Greatly to his annoyance, the soldier perceived from the halting gait of his faithful steed that further use of his services was for the present impossible. Uttering an exclamation of disappointment, he gathered the reins in his hands, and leading the horse off the highway, struck into a wild, solitary path, winding away amongst the hills which lay to the right hand of the road leading to Dunscore. The gloaming was now advancing with rapid strides; and anxious to reach his destination without further delay, the young man pressed onwards as swiftly as the disabled state of his horse would allow; but soon the lameness of the poor animal increased to such a degree that he was fain to pause for a few moments, in order to discover, if possible, the extent of the injury inflicted. The horse, with the natural instinct of its race, seemed at once aware of the nature of the service about to be rendered, and placing his swollen foot in the outstretched hand of his master rubbed his head against his shoulder, as if to evince his gratitude for the kindly feelings which prompted the examination. Whilst inspecting the bruised leg, the natural buoyancy of the soldier's spirits, which had been in no small measure disturbed by the untoward events of the day, returned in full vigour; and with all the joyous gaiety of youth, which rises superior to the frowns of adversity, he commenced singing the song so popular with his party, namely, that which related to King Charles' return. He had not proceeded farther than the words—
"Oh, the twenty-ninth of May,
It was a glorious day
When the king did enjoy his own again!"
when a slight cough behind made him pause in the midst of his ditty, and, greatly to his surprise, on turning round he perceived an aged man, whose broad, blue bonnet and dress of hodden-grey betokened his adherence to the cause of the Kirk and Covenant leaning on the butt-end of a musket, and regarding him attentively with a look of stern displeasure, which seemed rather to amuse than terrify the object of his scrutiny, who, noways daunted by the ominous-looking weapon upon which the stranger leaned, returned his scowling glance with one of haughty defiance for he instantly exclaimed, "How now, old wiseacre! wer't nourished on vinegar, that thou lookest so sour? Why, man alive! one would fancy from thy rueful visage that things are not so well with thee as thou fain wouldst wish; speak out, man, and tell us at once the cause of thy disturbed aspect."
The aged wanderer smiled grimly, but vouchsafed no further reply to the scoffing inquiries of the soldier, who, somewhat nettled by the contemptuous silence maintained by the stranger, burst forth into one of the many songs then so much in vogue amongst the cavaliers, and which consigned to (in their eyes) condign punishment all those who ventured to differ from them so essentially as did the Puritans. The eyes of the Covenanter flashed sparks of fire on hearing this scornful ballad, and grasping his musket, he seemed as if about to rush on the object of his wrath, then, apparently by a mighty effort, conquering his disposition for violence, he regained his original position, and continued gazing with a gloomy brow on the performer, who heedless of its effects on the person before him, pursued his ditty with admirable coolness, repeating over and over again with marked emphasis, the verses he thought most likely to annoy and irritate the grey-haired Covenanter.
"Young man," said the stranger at the conclusion of the song, "you have verily moved me to anger by your unwarrantable attack on our poor, afflicted body; and yet fain would I argue with you in all soberness and good-will on the evil doings of the party with whom you consort, for that you are one of these cruel persecutors of our church, now ranging the country, I make bold to believe, therefore——"