CHAPTER VIII.
Walter, on coming to the troopers and asking for their leader, soon discovered how roughly he had treated Clavers; and it being so much the reverse of the reception he meant to have given him, he was particularly vexed about it. Still he was conscious that he had done nothing that was wrong, nor any thing that it did not behove a parent and a master of a family to have done in the same circumstances; therefore there was nothing farther from his intention than offering any apology. He entered his own room, as he supposed he had a good right to do, bluntly enough. He indeed touched the rim of his bonnet as he came in; but, seeing all the officers covered, he stalked into the midst of them with that immense circle of blue woollen on his head, which moved over their helmets like a black cloud as he advanced. Bruce, who was well used to insult the peasantry with impunity, seeing Walter striding majestically by his general in this guise, with his wonted forwardness and jocularity lifted up his sword, sheathed as it was, and with the point of it kicked off Walter’s bonnet. The latter caught it again as it fell, and with his fist, he made Bruce’s helmet ring against the wall; then again fitting on his bonnet, he gave him such an indignant and reproving look, that Bruce, having no encouragement from the eye of Clavers, resented it no farther than by saying good–humouredly, “‘Pon my body and shoul, but the carle keeps his good–looking head high enough.”
“Copland,” said Clavers, “desire Serjeant Daniel Roy Macpherson, with eleven troopers, to attend.” They were instantly at the door. “Seize and pinion that haughty rebel, together with all his family,” said he, “and then go and search every corner, chest, and closet in the house; for it is apparent that this is the nest and rendezvous of the murdering fanatics who infest this country. Let the rest of the soldiers guard the premises, that none escape to the mountains with tidings of our arrival. This good dame we will first examine privately, and then dispose of her as shall seem most meet.”
The command was promptly obeyed. Walter and all his family were taken into custody, pinioned, and a guard set on them; the house was ransacked; and in the meantime the general and his three associates continued the examination of the goodwife. Clavers observed that, on the entrance of Walter before, she seemed to be laid under some restraint, stopped short in her narration, and said, “But there’s the gudeman; he’ll tell ye it wi’ mair preceesion nor me;” and he had no doubt, if she were left to herself, of worming as much out of her as would condemn her husband, or at least furnish a pretext sufficient for the forfeiture of his wealth. Clavers had caused to be sold, by public roup, the whole stock on the farm of Phillhope, which belonged to Walter’s brother–in–law, merely because it was proven that the farmer’s wife had once been at a conventicle.
In the present instance, however, Clavers was mistaken, and fairly overshot his mark; for poor Maron Linton was so overwhelmed with astonishment when she saw her husband and family taken prisoners and bound, that her speech lost all manner of coherence. She sobbed aloud—complained one while, entreated another; and then muttered over some ill–sorted phrases from the Scripture. When Clavers pressed his questions, she answered him, weeping, “O dear sir, my lord, ye ken I canna do naething, nor think naething, nor answer naething, unless ye let Watie loose again; I find as I war naebody, nor nae soul, nor naething ava wantin’ him, but just like a vacation or a shadow. O my lord, set my twa bits o’ callants an’ my puir auld man loose again, and I’ll say ony thing that ever ye like.”
Threats and proffers proved alike in vain. Maron’s mind, which never was strong, had been of late so much unhinged by the terrors of superstition, that it wavered in its frail tenement like “the baseless fabric of a vision,” threatening to depart, and leave not a wreck behind. Clavers told her that her husband’s life depended on the promptness and sincerity of her answers, he having rendered himself amenable to justice by rescuing his daughter by force, whom they had taken prisoner on their arrival, having found her engaged in a very suspicious employment. This only increased Maron’s agony; and at length Clavers was obliged to give up the point, and ordered her into custody.
The soldiers had by this time taken old John of the Muchrah and another of Laidlaw’s shepherds prisoners, who had come to assist their master with the farm–work that day. All these Clavers examined separately; and their answers, as taken down in short–hand by Mr Adam Copland, are still extant, and at present in my possession. The following are some of them, as decyphered by Mr J. W. Robertson, whose acquaintance with ancient manuscripts is well known.
John Hay, shepherd in Muchrah, aged fifty–six, sworn and examined.
“Do you know such a man as the Rev. James Renwick?”
“Yes. I once heard him pray and preach for about the space of two hours.”