"'Woman,' says Claver'se, angrily, 'be silent,' and turning to Andra he said: 'You know you have forfeited your life: many a man has died for less; but I would not be hard on you. Will you be done with the Covenanters? Say the word and you are free. Refuse'--and he waved his hand towards the body o' the lad. Andra followed the gesture wi' his e'en. Then he looked at Claver'se again--wi' nae sign o' fear on his face. 'You ken my answer, sir, I canna.' And as Claver'se turned angrily away the guid-wife threw her airms aboot her husband's neck and sobbed, 'Oh, Andra, my ain brave man!' The dragoons had loosened their hold o' him, and he put his airms aboot her, and patted her heid. 'Dinna greet, lassie,' he murmured, 'dinna greet. Death is naething: only a doorway that lets us ben the Maister's hoose. I'll wait for ye yonder; the pairtin' will no be lang.'
"Claver'se had turned to the dragoons and was rapidly gi'eing them orders. Twa sodgers laid hold on the woman and tried to drag her awa' frae her man, but wi' her face buried on his shoulder she clung to him sobbing. Wi' his ain hands he took her airms frae his neck, and haudin' her face between his palms, kissed her. 'My ain Jean,' he said, 'God keep you. You ha'e been a guid wife tae me,' and kissing her again he left her and took his place by the wall o' the hoose. The firing party was ready. Claver'se half raised his sword to gi'e the signal; then he checked himsel' and turned to Andra.
"'An' you will,' he said, 'you may have five minutes to make your peace with your Maker.'
"'I thank you,' replied Andra, 'but that's settled lang syne.' Claver'se's blade rose sharply in the air. 'Ready,' he shouted--and the sword fell, and as its point struck the ground, Andra Paterson o' Daldowie passed ower unafraid.
"The smoke had no' had time to blaw frae the muzzles o' the muskets ere Jean had broken frae her captors, and flung hersel' on her knees beside the body o' her man. She raised his heid and held it in her lap: and bendin' ower kissed his face. 'Andra,' she cried, 'Andra--my ain bonnie man! Waken, Andra! waken! and speak to me. Andra! Andra! Canna ye hear me? It's me--Jean, yer ain wee lass: ye mind, Andra, ca'in' me that lang syne afore Dauvit was born. Andra, speak to me! Juist ae wee word, Andra!' She paused, and stared wildly at the upturned face. Then bursting into tears she sobbed, 'Oh, Andra, my ain dear man, the faither o' my bairns, they ha'e killed ye.' As the tears streamed doon her cheeks she took her kerchief frae her neck and spread it ower his face. Then lovingly and tenderly she laid his heid doon and spreadin' her open hands abune it said, 'Ane o' the elect noo.'
"Then she rose tae her feet. As she did so she noticed the body o' the lad, and wringing her hands knelt doon beside it. 'Puir wee laddie,' she said. 'God comfort your mither, wherever she may be,' and she bent ower and kissed his broo. Then springing up she faced Claver'se and the dragoons. He was pacing up and doon restlessly, sword in hand. Clenching her fists she shook them angrily at him. 'May God in heaven pey ye for this day's wark. Inhuman fiends! Are ye men born o' women--or spawn o' the de'il?' and leaping forward sae suddenly that Claver'se hadna time to throw himsel' on guard, she seized his sword and wrenched it frae his grip afore he knew that she was on him. She swung up the blade, and brocht it wi' a crash upon his heid. It was sic a blow as would ha'e cleft him to the chin, if she had had skill wi' the weapon. But it turned in her haun' so that she struck him wi' the flat o't, and he fell senseless to the ground. And then she turned on the troopers--ae woman against twenty armed men--striking richt and left, stabbing, lunging, and thrusting till she had scattered the hale troop, aghast at her onslaught, and the mischief she had dune their leader. But her triumph was short. Four o' the troopers plunged their spurs into their horses and rode her down, and as she lay stunned ane o' the troopers dismounting put his musket to her heid and fired."
CHAPTER XXXIX
FALSE HOPES
The tears were streaming down my cheeks.
I could contain myself no longer. "Then, Mary is alive," I cried. "Thank God! thank God!"