"Enemies, indeed!" vociferated Lieutenant Douglas, who had unperceived entered the apartment: "those enemies, friend Gibby, are nearer, I trow, than ye wot, and ready, with leave of this good company here, to take special care that his majesty's enemies shall be suitably provided for. Come, budge, old Benty, and you too of the lion's den. Come—my lambs, here, will be more difficult to manage than the lions of your Jewish namesake. Come, Mr Dan—up, and be going; for the day breaketh apace, and it will be pleasant pastime just to give us a stave of the death psalm under the old thorn, on the brae face yonder. Red Rob's shoulder, here, has sworn a solemn league and covenant against you; and, as to my two front teeth, they are complete nonconformists to Whigs and Whiggery, through all generations. Amen!"
In vain was all this profane barbarity poured on the ears of the dead man; old Gilbert had breathed his last at the very first perception of Douglas' presence—his God had in mercy withdrawn him from his last and most severe trial.
"Look there! look there! look there!" were the first articulate accents which crossed the lips of the distracted widow; "look, ye sons o' Belial—ye men o' bluid—on the pale and lifeless victim o' yer horrid persecution. Ay, aff wi' him!" (for Douglas had now approached the bed, as if to ascertain that no deception had been practised upon him)—"aff wi' him, to the croft, or to the maiden, or to the thorn-tree! shoot him, head him, hang him—ah!—ha!—ha!—ha!" (Hysterically screaming.) "He has escaped ye a'. Yer bullets canna pierce him; yer flames canna scorch him; yer malice canna reach him yonder." (Pointing at the same time upwards.) "There, even there, whar ye and yer band shall never enter, the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary, ay, thank God! the weary are at rest. Rest here, indeed, they had none; but there they shall rest, when ye shall lie tormented!"
"Come, come, Mother Testimony, give us no more of your blarney. Let us only over the shank yonder, and you and your whelps there may yelp and howl till the day of judgment, if you please. But as for you, friend Dan," (speaking ironically, and imitating the Covenanting language and manner), "does the Spirit move thee to budge?—has the Lord dealt bountifully with thee?—and will he 'save thee from six troubles, yea, from seven?' Come, come, friend," taking him rudely by the arm, and pulling him, with the assistance of Red Rob, towards the door. "The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come;' there is a maiden longing for thy embrace—yea, a maiden whose lovers have been many, and whose embrace is somewhat close. But she, having taken up her residence in the guid town of Edinburgh, is afar off; but, lest thou shouldst feel disappointment, my lambs here have become somewhat frisky of late, and they will be most happy to give thee a little matrimonial music, to the tune of 'Make ready, present, fire!'"
Daniel M'Michael had long been accustomed to view death as a messenger of peace. His days—now manifestly numbered—had been sorely troubled. His faith in his Saviour was, with him, not a fluctuating, but a fixed principle; like Stephen, he might ascend to see heaven opened—and his soul was long absent in fervent prayer. He prayed for a persecuted kirk, for a persecuted remnant, for his friends, and for his enemies, even those whose hands were raised against his life.
"The guid Lord," said he, "forgive ye, for ye know not what ye do. The thief on the cross was forgiven; David, the murderer, was forgiven; and e'en Judas himself may have obtained mercy. Oh, ye puir, infatuated, godless band! it is not for myself that I pray—it is for you; for, when the day of wrath arrives, where will ye flee to? To the hills?—they will be cast into the sea. To the rocks?—they will have melted with fervent heat. To the linns and the glens?—but where will ye find them, in that great and notable day of the Lord——"
Daniel was proceeding thus, when Red Rob struck him over the head with the handle of his sword.
"Down to the earth with thee and thy everlasting jaw. We want none of thy prayers and petitionings. We are King Charles' men, and our God is our captain, our reward our pay, our heaven is our mess-room, and our eternity an hour's kissing of a bonny lass."
Here the commander interfered, and the poor victim was raised, though scarcely able to stand on his legs, from the stun of the blow.
"And now," said Douglas, "for the last time, wilt thou conform, and preserve thy life, or die?"