CHAPTER VII. THE WANDERER.
A body of soldiers now ranged through our part of the country, seeking out Covenanters who had taken any part in the late rising, and perpetrating all such deeds of cruelty as their evil thoughts could devise. Some were tortured for aiding their friends to escape. Life and property were at the mercy of these ruthless invaders.
Steenie was obliged to remain in hiding. Sometimes, when I knew where he was, I stole out to him in the gloaming. Seated on the same rock, with my hand in his, I passed an hour or more with him; but never did I do so without fearing it might be the last time. In the long summer evenings I sometimes stayed and chatted till a late hour, and, after a bit of forgetfulness, it did seem almost like old times. One of those evenings I have special cause to remember. The air was delightfully fresh, and fragrant with the scent of summer blossoms. The wield sang its song in the woods anent us; the owl hooted on the cliff; and the wee, timid hare, startled by our footsteps on the dry twigs, ran across our path. For the time we dropped all thoughts of fear. We were at the back of our own cottage, in the thicket where in our childhood we had often played. The moonlight glinted through it as of yore, and a bit to the north sang the same busy, babbling brook. Oh, that was an evening long to be remembered!
"One can almost forget that he is a hunted fugitive in a place and a time like this," said Steenie.
"Yes, Steenie," I answered, "would to God we were clear of the great trouble which we this evening have been able to put from our minds."
While I was yet speaking the sound of horses' feet was borne to our ears on the still night air.
"Go home quickly, Effie," said Steenie, "and I'll not stop till I am hidden behind the black crags."
As I entered the house I found mother sitting with wee Jamie, for he was aye at our house since father was led away. Mother saw something was amiss, but she questioned only by look.
"The troopers," I said.