the burn that let us oot at a place that canna be seen fraethe hoose. But oh, granny, dinna ask me to speak aboot thae things, forthey may be torturin' Uncle Andry at this vera moment. Are you sure itwas him ye saw?" she added, turning to Bruce.
"Quite sure," replied the smith. "I chanced to be passing the Tolboothat the moment the door opened. A party of the City Guard suddenly cameout with Black in the midst, and led him up the High Street."
"I'm _sure_ they'll torture him," said the poor girl, while the tearsbegan to flow at the dreadful thought. "They stick at naethin' now."
"I think," said Will Wallace, in a tone that was meant to be comforting,"that your uncle may escape the torture, for the Archbishop does notpreside at the Council to-day. I hear that he has gone off suddenly toSaint Andrews."
"That won't serve your uncle much," remarked Bruce sternly, "for some ofthe other bishops are nigh as bad as Sharp, and with that raving monsterLauderdale among them they're likely not only to torture but to hanghim, for he is well known, and has been long and perseveringly hunted."
In his indignation the smith did not think of the effect his forebodingmight have on his friend's mother, but the sight of her pale cheeks andquivering lips was not lost upon Wallace, whose sympathies had alreadybeen stirred deeply not only by his regard for Black, but also by hispity for tender-hearted Jean.
"By heaven!" he exclaimed, starting up in a sudden burst of enthusiasm,"if you will join me, friends, I am quite ready to attempt a rescue atonce."
A sort of pleased yet half-cynical smile crossed the grave visage ofQuentin Dick as he glanced at the youth.
"Hoots, man! sit doon," he said quietly; "ye micht as weel try to rescuea kid frae the jaws o' a lion as rescue Andry Black frae the fangs o'Lauderdale an' his crew. But something may be dune when they're takin'him back to the Tolbooth--if ye're a' wullin' to help. We mak' fulltwunty-four feet amangst us, an' oor shoothers are braid!"
"I'm ready," said David Spence, in the quiet tone of a man who usuallyacts from principle.
"An' so am I," cried Bruce, smiting the table with the fist of a man whousually acts from impulse.
While Wallace calmed his impatient spirit, and sat down to hatch a plotwith his brother conspirators, a strange scene was enacting in theCouncil Chamber, where the perjured prelates and peers were in the habitof practising cruelty, oppression, and gross injustice under the name oflaw.
They sat beside a table which was covered with books and parchments. Infront of them, seated on a chair with his arms pinioned, was AndrewBlack. His face was pale and had a careworn look, but he held his headerect, and regarded his judges with a look of stern resolution thatseemed to exasperate them considerably. On the table lay a pair ofbrass-mounted thumbscrews, and beside them the strange-lookinginstrument of torture called the boot. In regard to these machinesthere is a passage in the Privy Council Records which gives an idea ofthe spirit of the age about which we write. It runs thus: "Whereas the_boots_ were the ordinary way to explicate matters relating to theGovernment, and there is now a new invention and engine called the_Thumbkins_, which will be very effectual to the purpose aforesaid, theLords ordain that when any person shall by their order be put to thetorture, the said boots and thumbkins be applied to them, as it shall befound fit and convenient."
Lauderdale on this occasion found it fit and convenient to apply thetorture to another man in the presence of Black, in order that thelatter might fully appreciate what he had to expect if he should remaincontumacious. The poor man referred to had not been gifted with arobust frame or a courageous spirit. When asked, however, to reveal thenames of some comrades who had accompanied him to a field-preaching heat first loyally and firmly refused to do so. Then the boot wasapplied. It was a wooden instrument which enclosed the foot and lowerlimb of the victim. Between it and the leg a wedge was inserted which,when struck repeatedly, compressed the limb and caused excruciatingagony. In some cases this torture was carried so far that it actuallycrushed the bone, causing blood and marrow to spout forth. It was so inthe case of that well-known martyr of the Covenant, Hugh McKail, notlong before his execution.
The courage of the poor man of whom we now write gave way at the secondstroke of the mallet, and, at the third, uttering a shriek of agony, herevealed, in short gasps, the names of all the comrades he could recall.Let us not judge him harshly until we have undergone the same ordealwith credit! A look of intense pity overspread the face of Andrew Blackwhile this was going on. His broad chest heaved, and drops ofperspiration stood on his brow. He had evidently forgotten himself inhis strong sympathy with the unhappy martyr. When the latter wascarried out, in a half fainting condition, he turned to Lauderdale, and,frowning darkly, said--
"Thou meeserable sinner, cheeld o' the deevil, an' enemy o' a'righteousness, div 'ee think that your blood-stained haund can owerturnthe cause o' the Lord?"
This speech was received with a flush of anger, quickly followed by asupercilious smile.
"We shall see. Get the boot ready there. Now, sir," (turning toBlack), "answer promptly--Will you subscribe the oath of the King'ssupremacy?"
"No--that I wull _not_. I acknowledge nae king ower my conscience butthe King o' Kings. As for that perjured libertine on the throne, forwhom there's muckle need to pray, I tell ye plainly that I consider thefreedom and welfare o' Scotland stands higher than the supposed rightso' king and lords. Ye misca' us rebels! If ye ken the history o' yerain country--whilk I misdoot--ye would ken that the Parliaments o' baithScotland an' England have laid it doon, in declaration and in practice,that resistance to the exercise o' arbitrary power is _lawfu'_,therefore resistance to Chairles and you, his shameless flunkeys, is naemair rebellion than it's rebellion in a cat to flee in the face o' abull-doug that wants to worry her kittens. Against the tyrant that hasabused his trust, an' upset oor constitution, an' broken a' the laws o'God and man, I count it to be my bounden duty to fecht wi' swurd an' lipas lang's I hae an airm to strike an' a tongue to wag. Noo, ye may daeyer warst!"
At a signal the executioner promptly fitted the boot to the bold man'sright leg.
Black's look of indignant defiance passed away, and was replaced by anexpression of humility that, strangely enough, seemed rather tointensify than diminish his air of fixed resolve. While the instrumentof torture was being arranged he turned his face to the Bishop ofGalloway, who sat beside Lauderdale silently and sternly awaiting theresult, and with an almost cheerful air and quiet voice said--
"God has, for His ain wise ends, made the heart o' the puir man that hasjust left us tender, an' He's made mine teuch, but tak' notice, thouwolf in sheep's clothing, that it's no upon its teuchness but upon thespeerit o' the Lord that I depend for grace to withstand on this evilday."
"Strike!" said the Duke, in a low stern voice.
The mallet fell; the wedge compressed the strong limb, and Andrewcompressed his lips.
"Again!"
A second time the mallet fell, but no sign did the unhappy man give ofthe pain which instantly began to shoot through the limb. After a fewmore blows the Duke stayed the process and reiterated his questions, butBlack took no notice of him whatever. Large beads of sweat broke out onhis brow. These were the only visible signs of suffering, unless weexcept the deathly pallor of his face.
"Again!" said the merciless judge.
The executioner obeyed, but the blow had been barely delivered when aloud snap was heard, and the tortured man experienced instant relief.Jock Bruce's little device had been successful, the instrument oftorture was broken!
"Thanks be to Thy name, O God, for grace to help me thus far," saidBlack in a quiet tone.
"Fix on the other boot," cried Lauderdale savagely, for the constancy aswell as the humility of the martyr exasperated him greatly.
The executioner was about to obey when a noise was heard at the door ofthe Council Chamber, and a cavalier, booted and spurred and splashedwith mud, as if he had ridden fast and far, strode hastily up to theDuke and whispered in
his ear. The effect of the whisper was striking,for an expression of mingled surprise, horror, and alarm overspread fora few moments even his hard visage. At the same time the Bishop ofGalloway was observed to turn deadly pale, and an air of consternationgenerally marked the members of Council.
"Murdered--in cold blood!" muttered the Duke, as if he could not quitebelieve the news,--and perhaps realised for the first time that therewere others besides the Archbishop of Saint Andrews who richly deserveda similar fate.
Hastily ordering the prisoner to be removed to the Tolbooth, he retiredwith his