CHAPTER LXI

I was conducted into a straight and dark chamber, and the cord wherewith

my hands were bound was untied, and a shackle put upon my right wrist;

the flesh of my left was so galled with the cord, that the jailor was

softened at the sight, and from the humanity of his own nature,

refrained from placing the iron on it, lest the rust should fester the

quick wound.

Then I was left alone in the gloomy solitude of the prison-room, and the

ponderous doors were shut upon me, and the harsh bolts driven with a

horrid grating noise, that caused my very bones to dinle. But even in

that dreadful hour an unspeakable consolation came with the freshness of

a breathing of the airs of paradise to my soul. Methought a wonderful

light shone around me, that I heard melodious voices bidding me be of

good cheer, and that a vision of my saintly grandfather, in the glorious

vestments of his heavenly attire, stood before me, and smiled upon me

with that holy comeliness of countenance which has made his image in my

remembrance ever that of the most venerable of men; so that, in the very

depth of what I thought would have been the pit of despair, I had a

delightful taste of those blessed experiences of divine aid, by which

the holy martyrs were sustained in the hours of trial, and cheered

amidst the torments in which they sealed the truth of their testimony.

After the favour of that sweet and celestial encouragement, I laid

myself down on a pallet in the corner of the room, and a gracious sleep

descended upon my eyelids, and steeped the sense and memory of my griefs

in forgetfulness. When I woke the day was far spent, and the light

through the iron stainchers of the little window showed that the shadows

of the twilight were darkening over the world. I raised myself on my

elbow, and listened to the murmur of the multitude that I heard still

lingering around the prison; and sometimes I thought that I discovered

the voice of a friend.

In that situation, and thinking of all those dear cares which filled my

heart with tenderness and fear, and of the agonising grief of my little

boy, the sound of whose cries still echoed in my bosom, I rose upon my

knees and committed myself entirely to the custody of Him that can give

the light of liberty to the captive even in the gloom of the dungeon.

And when I had done so I again prepared to lay myself on the ground; but

a rustle in the darkness of the room drew my attention, and in the same

moment a kind hand was laid on mine.

"Sarah Lochrig," said I, for I knew my wife's gentle pressure,--"How is

it that you are with me in this doleful place? How found you entrance,

and I not hear you come in?"

But before she had time to make any answer, another's fond arms were

round my neck, and my affectionate young Michael wept upon my shoulder.

Bear with me, courteous reader, when I think of those things,--that wife

and that child, and all that I loved so fondly, are no more! But it is

not meet that I should yet tell how my spirit was turned into iron and

my heart into stone. Therefore will I still endeavour to relate, as with

the equanimity of one that writes but of indifferent things, what

further ensued during the thirteen days of my captivity.

Sarah Lochrig, with the mildness of her benign voice, when we had

mingled a few tears, told me that, after I went to Galloway with Martha

Swinton, she had been moved by our neighbours to come with our children

into the town, as being safer for a lanerly woman and a family left

without its head; and a providential thing it was that she had done so;

for on the very night that my brother came off with the men of the

parish to join us, as I have noted down in its proper place, a gang of

dragoons plundered both his house and mine; and but that our treasures

had been timeously removed, his family having also gone that day into

Kilmarnock, the outrages might have been unspeakable.

We then had some household discourse, anent what was to be done in the

event of things coming to the worst with me; and it was an admiration to

hear with what constancy of reason, and the gifts of a supported

judgment, that Gospel-hearted woman spoke of what she would do with her

children, if it was the Lord's pleasure to honour me with the crown of

martyrdom.

"But," said she, "I hae an assurance within that some great thing is yet

in store for you, though the hope be clouded with a doubt that I'll no

be spar't to see it, and therefore let us not despond at this time, but

use the means that Providence may afford to effect your deliverance."

While we were thus conversing together the doors of the prison-room were

opened, and a man was let in who had a cruisie in the one hand and a

basket in the other. He was lean and pale-faced, bordering on forty

years, and of a melancholy complexion; his eye was quick, deep set, and

a thought wild; his long hair was carefully combed smooth, and his

apparel was singularly well composed for a person of his degree.

Having set down the lamp on the floor, he came in a very reverential

manner towards where I was sitting, with my right hand fettered to the

ground, between Sarah Lochrig and Michael our son, and he said, with a

remarkable and gentle simplicity of voice, in the Highland accent, that

he had been requested by a righteous woman, Provost Reid's wife, to

bring me a bottle of cordial wine and some little matters that I might

require for bodily consolation.

"It's that godly creature, Willie Sutherland, the hangman," said my

wife. "Though Providence has dealt hardly with him, poor man, in this

life, every body says he has gotten arles of a servitude in glory

hereafter."

When he had placed the basket at the knees of Michael, he retired to a

corner of the room, and stood in the shadow, with his face turned

towards the wall, saying, "I'm concern't that it's no in my power to

leave you to yoursels till Mungo Robeson come back, for he has lockit me

in, but I'll no hearken to what ye may say;" and there was a modesty of

manner in the way that he said this, which made me think it not possible

he could be of so base a vocation as the public executioner, and I

whispered my opinion of him to Sarah Lochrig. It was, however, the case;

and verily in the life and conduct of that simple and pious man there

was a manifestation of the truth, that to him whom the Lord favours it

signifieth not whatsoever his earthly condition may be.

After I had partaken with my wife and son of some refreshment which they

had brought with them, and tasted of the wine that Provost Reid's lady

had sent, we heard the bolts of the door drawn, and the clanking of

keys, at which Willie Sutherland came forward from the corner where he

had stood during the whole time, and lifting the lamp from the floor,

and wetting his fore-finger with spittle as he did so, he trimmed the

wick, and said, "The time's come when a' persons not prisoners must

depart forth the tolbooth for the night; but, Master Gilhaize, be none

discomforted thereat, your wife and your little one will come back in

the morning, and your lot is a lot of pleasure; for is it not written in

the book of Ecclesiastes, fourth and eighth, 'There is one alone, and

there is not a second; yea, he hath neither child nor brother?' and such

an one am I."

The inner door was thrown open, and Mungo Robeson, looking in, said, "I

wae to molest you, but ye'll hae to come out, Mrs Gilhaize." So that

night we were separated; and when Sarah Lochrig was gone, I could not

but offer thanksgiving that my lines had fallen in so pleasant a place,

compared with the fate of my poor brother, suffering among strangers in

the doleful prison of Glasgow, under the ravenous eyes of the prelate of

that city, then scarcely less hungry for the bodies of the faithful and

the true, than even the apostate James Sharp himself.

Ringan Gilhaize, or, The Covenanters · 第 61 / 93 章