Sandy followed the woman into another room, and in a moment returned with a rope in his hand.
"What does this mean?" I shouted. "You have no right to interfere with me--and when I reach Moffat I shall lodge a complaint with the Officer Commanding."
"Shut yer jaw," bellowed the giant, and shook his fist at me.
I sprang up--my clenched left fist smashed into his face, and the blood streamed from him--but still he held me.
Sandy sprang to his aid, and though I struggled like one possessed I was quickly overpowered, flung roughly on the chair and bound there. The rope that surrounded me, and held my arms close to my sides, was drawn so tightly that I could hardly breathe. They ran it round the back of the chair and under the legs shackling each ankle. I was helpless. As he bound me the giant cursed me soundly, pausing only to spit blood from his foul mouth.
"Ye blasted hound! Ye're no' what ye pretend. We'll mak' ye talk in a wee. Eh, Sandy?" And Sandy, binding my ankles, answered "Umphm."
When I was tied securely they stood away from me and surveyed their handiwork.
"Umphm," said Sandy--as he poured out a glass of Solway waters from the bottle which the woman had brought, and raised it to his lips. The two sat down by the fire--the bottle between them--and for a time turned all their attention to its contents. I tried to move--=but I was gripped as in a vice. I was in sore case. I cared not what happened to myself, but there was my message. I alone could prevent the massacre on the morrow, and now the proud hope I had cherished of doing service to the Covenant was brought to naught. Was there a God in heaven, that such things could be? I was not left long to my thoughts.
Suddenly the giant rose, and standing over me glowered into my eyes as he shouted:
"Are ye a Covenanter?"