and Alexander again ventured to see her whose image was for ever present wi' his thoughts, as if her portrait were engraven on his heart. It was about the back end o' harvest, and the full moon was shining bright upon the stubble fields and the brown hills; he was passing by Chousely (or, as some call it, Choicelee), the very place where his father, his brothers, and himself, had last joined the army o' the Covenant, when he observed a figure tripping along the road before him. One glance was sufficient. He knew it was she whom he sought—his own Flora. He ran forward.
"Flora!" he cried, "stop, dear—stop—it is me!"
She turned round and said, "Sir!"
The cold abruptness of that word "sir!" was like a dagger driven through his bosom, and for a moment he stood before her, in silence and confusion, as one who has been detected o' some offence. But true affection is never long either in finding words or an equivalent for them.
"Flora," said he, holding out his hand, "it is long since we met, I hae suffered affliction since then, and encountered danger, and considering the long, long friendship—the more than friendship, Flora—that has been between us, and the vows we have exchanged wi' each other, I think I micht have expected something mair frae ye now than—'Sir!' Is your heart changed, Flora—hae ye forgot me—or do ye wish to forget me?"
"No, Alexander," said she, "I hae not forgotten ye; nor hae I forgotten the vows that hae passed between us, as my unhappy heart is a secret witness; and if I did wish to forget ye, it wouldna be possible. For, wherever I micht be, the remembrance o' you would come o'er my thoughts like the shadow o' a cloud passing across a river."
"And after it had passed, would it leave as little impression upon your heart, Flora, as the shadow o' a cloud does upon a river?"
"Alexander," she replied, "I am not gaun to argue wi' ye, for I canna. But oh, man, ye hae drawn your sword against your king—ye hae fought against him, ye hae been a traitor in the land that gave ye birth; and, as my faither says, they who are rebellious subjects will never mak good husbands, or be regulated by the ties o' domestic life."
"Flora," returned he, "I deny altogether that what your faither says is correct. But, even allowing that it were, I deny that I hae taken up arms against my king, or that I am a rebellious subject. We took up arms against injustice, tyranny, and oppression; and the king had previously taken up arms against us. Look at the whole conduct o' the Covenant army—hae they not always listened to every proposal o' the king, and trusted to his royal word as faithful subjects who were wishful to prove their attachment to his throne and person? But where can ye point out the instance that he has not fled from his engagement and deceived us, and showed us that his promises and his pledges were not stronger than burned straw? Even the last engagement which he has made, and by which he is to secure to us the rights we have sought for, prayed for, fought for, I believe he will break—he will try to evade it, and give us vengeance in its stead—and if he does so, I am no longer his subject, but his enemy, even though it be at the sacrifice o' you, Flora; and rather than part wi' you, were it in my power, I would ten thousand times lay down my own life."
"Alexander," added she, "I haena forgotten the days when we were happy thegither, and when we neither thought o' kings nor o' onything else, but our twa sels. But now my faither forbids me to speak to ye; and I maun obey him. And though I think that, in the principles ye are following, ye are wrong, very wrong—yet, Alexander, be ye rebel, be ye what you will, there shall never be another name but yours dear to my heart—though we ne'er meet again."