Now, the sun had not yet risen, and a thick, dark mist covered the face of the earth, when, as we have said, John Brydone went out into his fields, and found that a quantity of his oats had been carried away. He doubted not but they had been taken for the use of Montrose’s cavalry; and it was not for the loss of his substance that he grieved, and that his spirit was wroth, but because it was taken to assist the enemies of his country, and the persecutors of the truth; for than John Brydone, humble as he was, there was not a more dauntless or a more determined supporter of the Covenant in all Scotland. While he yet stood by the side of his field, and, from the thickness of the morning, was unable to discern objects at a few yards’ distance, a party of horsemen rode up to where he stood. “Countryman,” said one who appeared to be their leader, “can you inform us where the army of Montrose is encamped?”
John, taking them to be a party of the Royalists, sullenly replied—“There’s mony ane asks the road they ken,” and was proceeding into the field.
“Answer me!” demanded the horseman angrily, and raising a pistol in his hand—“Sir David Lesly commands you.”
“Sir David Lesly!” cried John—“the champion of the truth!—the defender of the good cause! If ye be Sir David Lesly, as I trow ye be, get yer troops in readiness, and, before the mist vanish on the river, I will deliver the host o’ the Philistines into your hand.”
“See that ye play not the traitor,” said Lesly, “or the nearest tree shall be unto thee as the gallows was to Haman which he prepared for Mordecai.”
“Do even so to me, and more also,” replied John, “if ye find me false. But think ye that I look as though I bore the mark of the beast upon my forehead?” he continued, taking off his Lowland bonnet, and gazing General Lesly full in the face.
“I will trust you,” said the General; and, as he spoke, the van of his army appeared in sight.
John having described the situation of the enemy to Sir David, acted as their guide until they came to the Shaw Burn, when the General called a halt. Each man having partaken of a hurried repast, by order of Sir David, the word was given along the line that they should return thanks for being conducted to the place where the enemy of the Kirk and his army slept in imaginary security. The preachers at the head of the different divisions of the army gave out a psalm, and the entire host of the Covenanters, uncovering their heads, joined at the same moment in thanksgiving and praise. John Brydone was not a man of tears, but, as he joined in the psalm, they rolled down his cheeks, for his heart felt, while his tongue uttered praise, that a day of deliverance for the people of Scotland was at hand. The psalm being concluded, each preacher offered up a short but earnest prayer; and each man, grasping his weapon, was ready to lay down his life for his religion and his liberty.
John Brydone, with his bonnet in hand, approaching Sir David, said—“Now, sir, I that ken the ground, and the situation o’ the enemy, would advise ye, as a man who has seen some service mysel’, to halve your men; let the one party proceed by the river to attack them on the one side, and the other go round the hills to cut off their retreat.”[J]
“Ye speak skilfully,” said Sir David, and he gave orders as John Brydone had advised.