With one voice this hastily collected and illegally constituted assembly exclaimed—"We cannot and will not!"
"Then farewell, sirs," replied the Viscount, with a smile of pride and scorn. "When again I appear before you, it will not be to entreat, but to command—it will not be to plead, but to punish; and now, let my trumpets sound To horse! In the country of the clans, the hills are as steep, the woods are as pathless, the glens as deep, and the rivers as rapid, as in the days of the Romans; and again from the wild north shall the whole tide of Celtic war roll on the traitor Lowlands, as in the days of the great Montrose. When again you hear the voice of Dundee, my Lords of Convention,—tremble!"
He clasped on his headpiece and retired. As the jangle of his sword and spurs descending the stone turnpike died away, a deep silence pervaded the dusky hall; for the threats of this chivalric soldier, when united to their foreknowledge of his dauntless courage, his unflinching loyalty, his loftiness of mind, and intense ferocity, threw a chill upon the more cold-blooded and calculating revolutionists. But soon the gallant blare of the trumpet, the stirring brattle of the brass kettle-drums, the clang of iron hoofs, and jingle of steel scabbards and chain bridles, awaking all the echoes of the great cathedral, and the hollow arcades of the dark Parliament Square, announced the march of the Life Guards—those sixty brave gentlemen who, of all his once numerous and fondly cherished army, now alone remained staunch to the hapless James.
Dark looks were exchanged, and as the music grew faint, all seemed to breathe more freely. Then the querulous voice of Lord Mersington was heard, and in the half-lighted hall, his dwarfish figure, clad in his senatorial robes, was dimly seen on the rostrum, and, as he addressed the convention, from the effect of his recent potations and over exertion, he swayed on his heels like a statue on a pivot. His speech was somewhat to the following purpose.
"That for sae mickle as the vile and bloody papistical James, Duke of Albany and York, having assumed the regal sceptre without the oath required for due maintenance of religion, and having altered the ancient constitution of the kingdom by ane exertion of tyrannous and arbitrary power, had forfeited all richt to the crown of Scotland, now and for ever; that it be forthwith settled on the Statholder William, and Mary his spouse; that there be made a list of grievances to be redressed, and a new act framit, anent witchcraft, papacy, prelacy, and ither abominations."
The last echoes of the trumpets of Dundee had died away under the arch of the Netherbow Port, and the motions of Mersington were carried with universal approbation. "Thus," says the author of Caledonia "the revolution in England was conducted constitutionally by the parliament; but in Scotland, unconstitutionally by the convention. The English found a vacancy of the throne, the Scots made one; the one grave and regarding law, the other vehement and disregarding it."
With a heaviness of heart, a deep and morbid sadness against which he struggled in vain, Walter rode down the steep Leith Wynd. He was now a private trooper under Dundee, and leaving Lilian far behind him; for he was going, he foresaw, to perish under the fallen banner of a desperate cause and ruined king; but soon the clash of the cymbals, the fanfare of the trumpets, the tramp of the stately horses, the high bearing of their gallant riders, and that innate loftiness of soul, which made Dunbarton and Dundee rise superior to their fortune, and seem to set fate at defiance, communicated a new ardour to his heart, and it soon beat responsive to the martial music, as the troop of cavaliers traversed the city's northern ridge, and riding by the Long Gate saw the morning sun rising afar off above the snow clad Lammermuir, gilding Preston Bay, the far hills of Fife, and the shining waters of the dark blue Forth.
Dundee rode near Fenton, who, finding more than once, the dark and pensive eyes of this singularly handsome soldier fixed upon him with something of that foredoomed expression, indicative of his future fate and fame, he ventured to ask, "Whither go you, my lord?"
"Wherever the shade of Montrose shall direct me," was the thoughtful and poetical reply. "Believe me, Mr. Fenton," he continued, after a pause, "under whatever circumstances, or however oppressed by fate, I will acquit myself before God, the world, and my own conscience. Yes!" he exclaimed, with flashing eyes, and striking his gloved hand upon his corsletted breast, "I will hazard life and limb, estate and title, name and fame, yes, I would peril even my salvation, were it possible, in the cause of my honour and allegiance; and if I cannot save the throne of King James, at least I will not survive its fall—so the will of God be done!"
There was something sublime in his aspect as he spoke; his dark and lustrous eyes were full of fire; his face, the manly beauty of which few have equalled and none surpassed, was suffused with a warm glow, and the proud curl of his mustachioed lip, showed the high spirit of achievement that burned within him. The soul of the great Montrose seemed indeed to inspire him, and in such a moment all the darker and weaker points were forgotten. His ardour was communicated to Walter, whose heart beat fast as he exclaimed,