Glendinning gazed at his companion in amazement. Having been absent on detached service when Will Wallace had joined—about three weeks previously—he was ignorant both as to his character and his recent experiences. He had chosen him on the present occasion simply on account of his youth and magnificent physique.
“I doot I’ve made a mistake in choosin’ you,” said Glendinning with some asperity, after a few moments, “but it’s ower late noo to rectifee’t. What ails ye, lad? What hae ye seen?”
“I have seen what I did not believe possible,” answered the other with suppressed feeling. “I have seen a little boy tortured with the thumbscrews, pricked with bayonets, and otherwise inhumanly treated because he would not, or could not, tell where his father was. I have seen a man hung up to a beam by his thumbs because he would not give up money which perhaps he did not possess. I have seen a woman tortured by having lighted matches put between her fingers because she would not, or could not, tell where a conventicle was being held. I did not, indeed, see the last deed actually done, else would I have cut down the coward who did it. The poor thing had fainted and the torture was over when I came upon them. Only two days ago I was ordered out with a party who pillaged the house of a farmer because he refused to take an oath of allegiance, which seems to have been purposely so worded as to make those who take it virtually bondslaves to the King, and which makes him master of the lives, properties, and consciences of his subjects—and all this done in the King’s name and by the King’s troops!”
“An’ what pairt did you tak’ in these doin’s?” asked Glendinning with some curiosity.
“I did my best to restrain my comrades, and when they were burning the hayricks, throwing the meal on the dunghill, and wrecking the property of the farmer, I cut the cords with which they had bound the poor fellow to his chair and let him go free.”
“Did onybody see you do that?”
“I believe not; though I should not have cared if they had. I’m thoroughly disgusted with the service. I know little or nothing of the principles of these rebels—these fanatics, as you call them—but tyranny or injustice I cannot stand, whether practised by a king or a beggar, and I am resolved to have nothing more to do with such fiendish work.”
“Young man,” said the swarthy comrade in a voice of considerable solemnity, “ye hae obviously mista’en your callin’. If you werena new to thae pairts, ye would ken that the things ye objec’ to are quite common. Punishin’ an’ harryin’ the rebels and fanatics—Covenanters, they ca’ theirsels—has been gaun on for years ower a’ the land. In my opeenion it’s weel deserved, an’ naething that ye can do or say wull prevent it, though what ye do an’ say is no’ unlikely to cut short yer ain career by means o’ a rope roond yer thrapple. But losh! man, I wonder ye haena heard about thae matters afore now.”
“My having spent the last few years of my life in an out-of-the-way part of Ireland may account for that,” said Wallace. “My father’s recent death obliged my mother to give up her farm and return to her native town of Lanark, where she now lives with a brother. Poverty and the urgency of a cousin have induced me, unfortunately, to take service with the dragoons.”
“After what ye’ve said, hoo am I to coont on yer helpin’ me e’noo?” asked Glendinning.