CHAPTER LIX

The decent, thoughtful, elderly man, who so kindly invited me to his

house, was by name called Gideon Kemp; and as we were going towards it

together, he told me of divers things that worthy Mr Swinton had not

time to do; among the rest, that the preaching I had fallen in with at

the linn, which should thenceforth be called the Covenanters' Linn, was

the first taste of Gospel-fother that the scattered sheep of those parts

had tasted for more than eight months.

"What's to come out o' a' this oppression," said he, "is wonderful to

think o'. It's no in the power of nature that ony government or earthly

institution framed by the wit and will of man can withstand a whole

people. The prelates may persecute, and the King's power may back their

iniquities, but the day and the hour cannot be far off when both the

power and the persecutors will be set at nought, and the sense of what

is needful and right, no what is fantastical and arbitrary, govern again

in the counsels of this realm. I say not this in the boast of prediction

and prophecy, but as a thing that must come to pass; for no man can say,

that the peaceful worshipping according to the Word is either a sin, a

shame, or an offence against reason; but the extortioning of fines, and

the desolation of families, for attending the same, is manifestly guilt

of a dark dye, and the Judge of Righteousness will avenge it."

As we were thus walking sedately towards his dwelling, I observed and

pointed out to him a lassie coming running towards us. It was his

daughter; and when she came near, panting and out of breath with her

haste she said--

"O, father ye manna gang hame;--twa of Carswell's men hae been speering

for you and they had swords and guns. They're o'er the hill to the linn,

for wee Willie telt them ye were gane there to a preaching."

"This comes," says the afflicted Gideon, "of speaking of secret things

before bairns; wha could hae thought, that a creature no four years old

would have been an instrument of discovery?--It'll no be safe now for

you to come hame wi' me, which I'm wae for, as ye're sae sorely weary't;

but there's a frien o' ours that lives ayont the Holmstone-hill, aboon

the auld kirk; I'll convey you thither, and she'll gi'e you a shelter

for the night."

So we turned back, and again crossed the bridge before spoken of, and

held our course towards the house of Gideon Kemp's wife's stepmother.

But it was not ordained that I was yet to enjoy the protection of a

raftered dwelling; for just as we came to the Daff-burn, down the glen

of which my godly guide was mindet to conduct me, as being a less

observable way than the open road, he saw one of Ardgowan's men coming

towards us, and that family being of the progeny of the Stuarts, were

inclined to the prelatic side.

"Hide yoursel," said he, "among the bushes."

And I den't myself in a nook of the glen, where I overheard what passed.

"I thought, Gideon," said the lad to him, "that ye would hae been at the

conventicle this afternoon. We hae heard o't a'; and Carswell has sworn

that he'll hae baith doited Swinton and Dunrod's leddy at Glasgow afore

the morn, or he'll mak a tawnle o' her tower."

"Carswell shouldna crack sae croose," replied Gideon Kemp; "for though

his castle stands proud in the green valley, the time may yet come when

horses and carts will be driven through his ha', and the foul toad and

the cauld snail be the only visitors around the unblest hearth o'

Carswell."

The way in which that gifted man said these words made my heart dinle;

but I hae lived to hear that the spirit of prophecy was assuredly in

them: for, since the Revolution, Carswell's family has gone all to

drift, and his house become a wastege;--folk say, a new road that's

talked o' between Inverkip and Greenock is to go through the very

middle o't, and so mak it an awful monument of what awaits and will

betide all those who have no mercy on their fellow-creatures, and would

exalt themselves by abetting the strength of the godless and the wrength

of the oppressors.

Ardgowan's man was daunted by the words of Gideon Kemp, and replied in a

subdued manner, "It's really a melancholious thing to think that folk

should hae gane so wud about ministers and religion;--but tak care of

yoursel, Gideon, for a party of soldiers hae come the day to Cartsdyke

to take up ony of the Rullion-green rebels that hae fled to thir parts,

and they catcht, I hear, in a public in the Stenners, three men, and

have sent them to Glasgow to be hanged."

I verily thought my heart would at this have leapt out of my bosom.

"Surely," replied Gideon Kemp, "the wrath of government is no so

unquenchable, that a' the misguided folk concernt in the rising are

doom't to die. But hae ye heard the names of the prisoners, or where

they belong to?"

"They're o' the shire o' Ayr, somewhere frae the skirts o' Irvine or

Kilwinning; and I was likewise told their names, but they're no of a

familiarity easy to be remembered."

The horror which fell upon me at hearing this made me forget my own

peril, and I sprung out of the place of my concealment, and cried,--

"Do you ken if any of them was of the name of Gilhaize?"

Ardgowan's man was astounded at seeing me standing before him in so

instanter a manner, and before making any response, he looked at Gideon

Kemp with a jealous and troubled eye.

"Nay," said I, "you shall deal honestly with me, and from this spot you

shall not depart till you have promised to use nae scaith to this worthy

man." So I took hold of him by the skirts of his coat, and added, "Ye're

in the hands of one that tribulation has made desperate. I, too, am a

rebel, as ye say, from Rullion-green, and my life is forfeited to the

ravenous desires of those who made the laws that have created our

offence. But fear no wrong, if you have aught of Christian compassion

in you. Was Gilhaize the name of any of the prisoners?"

"I'll no swear't," was his answer; "but I think it was something like

that;--one of them, I think, they called Finnie."

"Robin Finnie," cried I, dropping his coat, "he was wi' my brother; I

canna doubt it;" and the thought of their fate flooded my heart, and the

tears flowed from my eyes.

The better nature of Ardgowan's man was moved at the sight of my

distress, and he said to Gideon Kemp,--

"Ye needna be fear't, Gideon; I hope ye ken mair o' me than to think I

would betray either friend or acquaintance. But gang na' to the toun,

for a' yon'er's in a state o' unco wi' the news o' what's being doing

the day at Cartsdyke, and every body's in the hourly dread and fear o'

some o' the black-cuffs coming to devour them."

"That's spoken like yoursel, Johnnie Jamieson," said Gideon Kemp; "but

this poor man," meaning me, "has had a day o' weary travel among the

moors, and is greatly in need of refreshment and a place of rest. When

the sword, Johnnie, is in the hand, it's an honourable thing to deal

stoutly wi' the foe; but when forlorn and dejectit, and more houseless

than the beasts of the field, he's no longer an adversary, but a man

that we're bound by the laws of God and nature to help."

Jamieson remained for a short space in a dubious manner, and looking

mildly towards me, he said, "Gang you your ways, Gideon Kemp, and I'll

ne'er say I saw you; and let your friend den himsel in the glen, and

trust me: naebody in a' Inverkip will jealouse that ony of our house

would help or harbour a covenanted rebel; so I'll can bring him to some

place o' succour in the gloaming, where he'll be safer than he could wi'

you."

Troubled and sorrowful as I was, I could not but observe the look of

soul-searching scrutiny that Gideon Kemp cast at Jamieson, who himself

was sensible of his mistrust, for he replied,--

"Dinna misdoot me, Gideon Kemp; I would sooner put my right hand in the

fire, and burn it to a cinder, than harm the hair of a man that was in

my power."

"And I'll believe you," said I; "so guide me wheresoever you will."

"Ye'll never thrive, Johnnie Jamieson," added honest Gideon, "if ye're

no sincere in this trust."

So after some little farther communing, the worthy farmer left us, and I

followed Jamieson down the Daff-burn, till we came to a mill that stood

in the hollow of the glen, the wheel whereof was happing in the water

with a pleasant and peaceful din that sounded consolatory to my hearing

after the solitudes, the storms and the accidents I had met with.

"Bide you here," said Jamieson; "the gudeman's ane o' your folk, but his

wife's a thought camstrarie at times, and before I tak you into the mill

I maun look that she's no there."

So he hastened forward, and going to the door, went in, leaving me

standing at the sluice of the mill-lade, where, however, I had not

occasion to wait long, for presently he came out, and beckoned to me

with his hand to come quickly.

Ringan Gilhaize, or, The Covenanters · 第 59 / 93 章