CHAPTER XI.
THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS.
With that, like a loch broken loose, Johnstone's tail of Annandalethieves rushed within the house and dang all things here and there attheir liking. Some came forth carrying good house gear, some tablefurniture, and some the plenishing of bed and wardrobe. They turned allthat they could not carry into the midst of the floor to burn at theirleisure. They drove away the cattle from off the brae-face. Theygathered the widow's poor head of sheep off the hill. And all the timeIsobel Herries stood trembling for her lads and holding the chief'shorse. As the men passed, one after another, they flung words at herthat will not bear writing down. And I was glad that the little maid whostood by with her brother in her hand, understood not their import.
When all was done, Westerhall set to work and pulled down the wholehouse, for the rigging and walls were but of baked clay and crumbledbefore them. Yet the poor woman wailed for them bitterly, as they hadbeen a palace.
"The bonny bit, O the bonny bit!" she cried. "Where I had sic a sweetbairn-time. I was that happy wi' a' my tottlin' weans aboot my hand. ButI kenned it couldna last--it was ower sweet to last."
So they turned her out to the bare hillside with the bairns in her hand.It did not, to my thinking, make the case any better that her brotherwas a rebel. But in those days it was treason to succour the living orhonour the dead--ay, even if they had lain in your bed and stirred inyour side. It was forbidden on pain of death to give them so much as abed or a meal of meat. For such was the decree of just and piousCharles, King at Whitehall, who alone had the right to say in whatfashion the poor ignorant folk of Scotland should worship the God oftheir fathers.
We had not ridden far after leaving the house a heap of ruins, before wemet Claverhouse and his troop, riding slow, with a prisoner in the midstof them.
"What luck!" cried he; "good sport in your ain coverts, Westerha'?"
He had a delicately insolent contempt for the Johnstone that set well onhim, though as I knew well he could be as cold and bloody as any of themwhen the humour drove him. Yet mostly he killed like a gentleman afterall, and not like a border horse thief--save only in the case of honestJohn Brown of Priesthill.
But Westerhall had caught sight of Clavers's prisoner. He rode up to himand struck him a buffet in the face, though the lad's hands were tiedbefore him. He was a youth of eighteen, as near as one might guess, aboy of a pleasant and ruddy countenance, such as one may chance to seeon any brae-face in Scotland where there are sheep feeding, with a staffin his hand and a dog at his heels.
"My Whiggie, I have you now," he cried. "I'll e'en learn you to row deadrebels in your plaidie, and harbour hill preachers on my land. Could Iget at your brothers, I declare I wadna leave a Herries birkie on thelands o' Westerha'. Have him down, men," he cried, "and shoot him here."
But Clavers interposed.
"No," he said, "he is now my prisoner. Ride ye on to Westerha'; andthere, Johnstone, I shall give ye a present of him to make a kirk or amill of. It'll be you that will have to pay the harbourage cess for thisday's work at ony gate!"
So to Westerhall Johnstone rode, very gloomy and ill at ease--for theblack dog was sitting heavy on him at the thought of the fine anentharbourers of rebels being found on his land. Again and again he brokeout on the poor youth Andrew Herries, threatening what he would do withhim when he got him to Westerhall. But the youth never so much asanswered back, only cast down his head and looked on the moss beforehim. Yet he walked carefully and without stumbling as one that takesheed to his going.
Now at a bonny spot where there is much green grass, it so happened thatwe halted. You will find the place readily if ever you pass that way. Itis just on that tongue of land where the Rig Burn meets the Esk Waterand close by the house of Westerhall. There, where the Great Hill ofStennies Water pushes down a spur to the water-side, was our haltingplace. Here, as soon as we alighted down, Westerhall passed sentence onAndrew Herries, saying that he had due authority from the Council asKing's Justicer for the parts about the Esk and Annan.
Claverhouse was noways keen for the lad's shooting, and strove to puthim off. Yet he was not over-earnest in the matter, for (as he oftensaid) to John Graham a dead Whig was always greatly better than aliving.
But for all that, he waved his hand and cried aloud:
"The blood of this poor man, Westerha', be upon you. I am free from it."
Nevertheless, since Westerhall had given the sentence and for example'ssake it could not be departed from, Claverhouse ordered a Highlandgentleman, the captain of a free company that was traversing the countrywith him, to shoot the lad and get it over. But Donald Dhu cocked hisbonnet till the eagle's feather in it stood erect, and in high dudgeondrew off his clansmen.
"Hursel cam' frae the Heelants to fecht men, and no to be pluff-pluffin'poother at poor lads that are no lang frae the mither's milk."
This was the statement of Donald Dhu, and I that had no love forHighlandmen, nor any cause to love them, remembering the hand they madeof my father's house of Earlstoun, could have cheered him where I stood.But I remembered the errand I was on, and for my mother's sake forbore.
"What!" cried Westerhall, glowering at him and riding up close, as if tostrike him, "would you disobey the General's orders!"
"Donald Dhu has no General but his King," cried the bold Highlandman."Call up your row-footed messans, and bid them do your nain dirty work."
Then Claverhouse, who of all things loved not to be outfaced, orderedhim peremptorily to obey.
"Indeed, John Graham, hursel will fecht ye first--you and a' yourtroop."
Then seeing that Clavers was about to raise his hand in command, asthough to take him unawares--
"Claymores!" suddenly cried Donald Dhu, and behind him fifty Highlandbrands flashed in air as the wild clansmen threw back their plaids toclear the sword-arm.
"This I shall report to the Privy Council," said Clavers very gravely,turning on him a black and angry countenance.
But the brave Highlander was noways affected.
"Hooch!" he said, giving his fingers a snap, "a fig for yourPreevies--Donald Dhu wull hae small notion o' Preevy Cooncils on BenMuick. Gin Preevies come to veesit Donald Dhu on Spey side, it's justhursel that wull be the prood man to see the Preevies--aye, or youyersel' either, John Graham!"
Thus much Donald Dhu, and he was a good man and died linking down thebrae with his men true, behind John Graham at Killiecrankie in thefulness of time--which was better work than, as he said, "pluff-pluffin'poother at puir lawlan tykes."
But when Westerhall saw that the Highland birses were up, and that hewould in no wise obey orders, he ordered some of his own scoundrels todo the thing. For his black heart was set on the shooting of the lad.
Then I could endure no longer, but ran forward as if to save him, cryingout to them that he was innocent, and but a lad at any rate, whichmightily angered Westerhall.
"Stell up the yae rebel whelp beside the other!" he said; and I believethat had we been alone with the Annandale men, they would have done it.
But Clavers said: "Let be! Take away young Earlstoun to the knowe-tap!"
So they led me off, fairly girning with anger and impotence. For once Ilonged for Sandy's brute strength to charge at them like a bull with thehead down.
"Lochinvar!" I cried, as they forced me away. "To me, Lochinvar!"
But, alas! my cousin was off on some of his own ploys, and came not tilltoo late. As you shall hear.
Then when the men were in rank to fire, Westerhall bid Andrew Herriesdraw down his blue bonnet over his eyes. But he was a lad of mostundaunted courage, and though he had come so meekly to the slaughter,now he spoke out boldly enough.
"I wad raither dee," he said, "in the face o' a' men and the plain lichto' God. I hae dune nocht to make me shamed afore my death-bringers.Though, being but young, I hae but little testimony to gie, an' naegreat experience o' religion to speak aboot. The end has come ower quickon me for that!"
Then
they asked him, as was their custom, if he had aught to say beforesentence should take effect upon him.
"Nocht in particular," he said, "but there's a book here (and he pulleda little Bible out of his breast) that you an' me will be judged by. Iwish I had read mair earnestly in it an' profited better by it. But atony rate I aye carried it to read at the herdin', and my time has beencut short."
"Make haste," they said, "we haena time to taigle wi' ye."
"And I hae as little desire to taigle you," he said, "but I am glad thatI didna grudge the puir Westland man my best plaid for his lastcovering, though there be none to do as muckle for me."
The fire rang out. The blue wreaths of smoke rose level, and there onthe green sward, with his face to the sky, and his Bible yet in hishand, lay the widow's son, Andrew Herries, very still.
"So perish all the King's rebels," cried Westerhall loudly, as it were,to give the black deed a colour of law.
But John Graham said never a word, only lifted his hat and then rodeaway with a countenance like the granite stone of the mountain.