Read The Men of the Moss-Hags Page 21


  CHAPTER XX.

  THE HOME OF MY LOVE.

  Anthony Lennox presently took me by the hand, and led me over to wherein the Duchrae kitchen the dark young man sat, whose noble head andcarriage I had remarked.

  "Mr. Cameron," he said gravely, and with respect, "this is the son of abrave man and princely contender with his Master--William Gordon ofEarlstoun, lately gone from us."

  And for the first time I gave my hand to Richard Cameron, whom mencalled the Lion of the Covenant--a great hill-preacher, who, strangelyenough, like some others of the prominent disaffected to the Government,had been bred of the party of Prelacy.

  As I looked upon him I saw that he was girt with a sword, and that hehad a habit of gripping the hilt when he spoke, as though at the pinchhe had yet another argument which all might understand. And being asoldier's son I own that I liked him the better for it. Then Iremembered what (it was reported) he had said on the Holms of Kirkmahoewhen he preached there.

  "I am no reed to be shaken with the wind, as Charles Stuart shall oneday know."

  And it was here that I got my first waft of the new tongue which thesehill-folk spake among themselves. I heard of "singular Christians," andconcerning the evils of paying the "cess" or King's tax--things of whichI had never heard in my father's house, the necessity not having arisenbefore Bothwell to discuss these questions.

  When all the men were gathered into the wide house-place, some sitting,some standing, the grave-faced woman knocked with her knuckles gently ona door which opened into an inner room. Instantly Maisie Lennox andother two maids came out bearing refreshments, which they handed roundto all that were in the house. The carriage of one of these threesurprised me much, and I observed that my cousin Wat did not take hiseyes from her.

  "Who may these maids be?" he whispered in my ear.

  "Nay, but I ken not them all," I answered. "Bide, and we shall hear."For, indeed, I knew only one of them, but her very well.

  And when they came to us in our turn, Maisie Lennox nodded to me as to afriend of familiar discourse, to whom nothing needs to be explained. Andshe that was the tallest of the maids handed Wat the well-curled oatencake on a trencher. Then he rose and bowed courteously to her, whereatthere was first a silence and then a wonder among the men in the house,for the manner of the reverence was strange to the stiff backs of thehill-folk. But Anthony Lennox stilled them, telling of the introductionhe had gotten concerning Walter, and that both our fathers had made agood end for the faith, so that we were presently considered wholly freeof the meeting.

  We heard that there was to be a field conventicle near by, at which Mr.Cameron was to preach. This was the reason of so great a gathering, manyhaving come out of Ayrshire, and even as far as Lesmahagow in the UpperWard of Lanark, where there are many very zealous for the truth.

  Then they fell again to the talking, while I noted how the maidscomported themselves. The eldest of them and the tallest, was a lass ofmettle, with dark, bent brows. She held her head high, and seemed, byher attiring and dignity, accustomed to other places than this moorlandfarm-town. Yet here she was, handing victual like a servitor, before afield-preaching. And this I was soon to learn was a common thing inGalloway, where nearly the whole of the gentry, and still more of theirwives and daughters, were on the side of the Covenant. It was nouncommon thing for a King's man, when he was disturbing aconventicle--"skailing a bees' byke" as it was called--to come on hisown wife's or, it might be, his daughter's palfrey, tethered in waitingto the root of some birk-tree.

  "Keep your black-tail coats closer in by!" said Duke Rothes once to hislady, who notoriously harboured outed preachers, "or I shall have to dosome of them a hurt! Ca' your messans to your foot, else I'll hae tokennel them for ye!"

  There was however no such safe hiding as in some of the great houses ofthe strict persecutors.

  So in a little while, the most part of the company going out, this tall,dark-browed maid was made known to us by Matthew of the Dub, as MistressKate McGhie, daughter of the Laird of Balmaghie, within which parish wewere.

  Then Maisie Lennox beckoned to the third maid, and she came forward withshyness and grace. She was younger than the other two, and seemed to bea well-grown lass of thirteen or fourteen.

  "This," said Maisie Lennox, "is my cousin Margaret of Glen Vernock."

  The maid whom she so named blushed, and spoke to us in the broaderaccent of the Shire, yet pleasantly and frankly as one well reared.

  Presently there came to us the taller maid--she who was called Kate, theLaird's daughter.

  She held out her hand to me.

  "Ah, Will of Earlstoun, I have heard of you!"

  I answered that I hoped it was for good.

  "It was from Maisie there that I heard it," she said, which indeed toldme nothing. But Kate McGhie shook her head at us, which tempted me tothink her a flighty maid. However, I remembered her words oftenafterwards when I was in hiding.

  Thereupon I presented my cousin Wat to her, and they bowed to oneanother with a very courtly grace. I declare it was pretty to see them,and also most strange in a house where the hill-folk were gatheredtogether. But for the sake of my father and brother we were never somuch as questioned.

  Presently there was one came to the door, and cried that the preachingwas called and about to begin. So we took our bonnets and the maidstheir shawls about them, and set forth. It was a grey, unkindly day, andthe clouds hung upon the heights. There are many woods of pine and oakabout the Duchrae; and we went through one of them to an ancientmoat-hill or place of defence on a hillside, with a ditch about it ofthree or four yards wideness, which overlooked the narrow pack road bythe water's edge.

  As we went Kate McGhie walked by my side, and we talked together. Shetold me that she came against her parents' will, though not without herfather's knowledge; and that it was her great love for Maisie Lennox,who was her friend and gossip, which had first drawn her to a belief inthe faith of the hill-folk.

  "But there is one thing," said she, "that I cannot hold with them in. Iam no rebel, and I care not to disown the authority of the King!"

  "Yet you look not like a sufferer in silence!" I said, smiling at her."Are you a maid of the Quaker folk?"

  At which she was fain to laugh and deny it.

  "But," I said, "if you are a King's woman, you will surely find yourselfin a strange company to-day. Yet there is one here of the same mind asyourself."

  Then she entreated me to tell her who that might be.

  "Oh, not I," I replied, "I have had enough of Charles Stuart. I couldeat with ease all I like of him, or his brother either! It is my cousinof Lochinvar, who has been lately put to the horn and outlawed."

  At the name she seemed much surprised.

  "It were well not to name him here," she said, "for the chief men knowof his past companying with Claverhouse and other malignants, and theymight distrust his honesty and yours."

  We had other pleasant talk by the way, and she told me of all her house,of her uncle that was at Kirkcudbright with Captain Winram and thegarrison there, and of her father that had forbidden her to go to thefield-meetings.

  "Which is perhaps why I am here!" she said, glancing at me with her boldblack eyes.

  As I went I could hear behind us the soft words and low speech of MaisieLennox, who came with my cousin Wat and Margaret of Glen Vernock. Whatwas the matter of their speech I could not discover, though I own I waseager to learn. But they seemed to agree well together, which seemedstrange to me, for I was a much older acquaintance than he.

  Now, especially when in the wilder places, we came to walk all fourtogether, it seemed a very pleasant thing to me to go thus to theworship of God in company. And I began from that hour to think kindlierof the field-folks' way of hearing a preacher in the open country. This,as I well know, says but little for me; yet I will be plain and concealnothing of the way by which I was led from being a careless and formalhome-keeper, to cast in my lot with the remnant who abode in the fieldsand were persecu
ted.