Hunted and Harried | Page 6

homeward.
"I' the peat-bog, I doot, for I daurna tak' them hame whan the dragoons is likely to gie us a ca'; besides, the hidy-hole wull be ower fu' soon. Noo, lad," he added, as they surmounted a hillock, from which they had a dim view of the surrounding country, "gang ye doon an' see if ye can fin' oot onything mair aboot thae sodgers. I'll awa' hame an see that a's right there."
They parted, the shepherd turning sharp off to the right, while the farmer descended towards his cottage. He had not advanced above half the distance when an object a little to the left of his path induced him to stop. It resembled a round stone, and was too small to have attracted the attention of any eye save one which was familiar with every bush and stone on the ground. Grasping a stout thorn stick which he carried, Andrew advanced towards the object in question with catlike caution until quite close to it, when he discovered that it was the head of a man who was sleeping soundly under a whin-bush. A closer inspection showed that the man wore an iron headpiece, a soldier's coat, and huge jack-boots.
"A dragoon and a spy!" thought Andrew, while he raised his cudgel, the only weapon he carried, and frowned. But Andrew was a merciful man; he could not bring himself to strike a sleeping man, even though waking him might entail a doubtful conflict, for he could see that the trooper's hand grasped the hilt of his naked sword. For a few moments he surveyed the sleeper, as if calculating his chances, then he quietly dropped his plaid, took off his coat, and untying his neckcloth, laid it carefully on one side over a bush. Having made these preparations, he knelt beside Will Wallace--for it was he--and grasped him firmly by the throat with both hands.
As might have been expected, the young trooper attempted to spring up, and tried to use his weapon; but, finding this to be impossible at such close quarters, he dropped it, and grappled the farmer with all his might; but Andrew, holding on to him like a vice, placed his knee upon his chest and held him firmly down.
"It's o' nae manner o' use to strive, ye see," said Andrew, relaxing his grip a little; "I've gotten ye, an' if ye like to do my biddin' I'll no be hard on ye."
"If you will let me rise and stand before me in fair fight, I'll do your business if not your bidding," returned Wallace in a tone of what may be termed stern sulkiness.
"Div ye think it's likely I'll staund before you in fair fecht, as you ca'd--you wi' a swurd, and me wi' a bit stick, my lad? Na, na, ye'll hae to submit, little though ye like it."
"Give me the stick, then, and take you the sword, I shall be content," said the indignant trooper, making another violent but unsuccessful effort to free himself.
"It's a fair offer," said Andrew, when he had subdued the poor youth a second time, "an' reflec's favourably on yer courage, but I'm a man o' peace, an' have no thirst for bloodshed--whilk is more than ye can say, young man; but if ye'll let me tie yer hands thegither, an' gang peaceably hame wi' me, I's promise that nae mischief'll befa' ye."
"No man shall ever tie my hands together as long as there is life in my body," replied the youth.
"Stop, stop, callant!" exclaimed Andrew, as Will was about to renew the struggle. "The pride o' youth is awful. Hear what I've gotten to say to ye, man, or I'll hae to throttle ye ootright. It'll come to the same thing if ye'll alloo me to tie ane o' my hands to ane o' yours. Ye canna objec' to that, surely, for I'll be your prisoner as muckle as you'll be mine--and that'll be fair play, for we'll leave the swurd lyin' on the brae to keep the bit stick company."
"Well, I agree to that," said Wallace, in a tone that indicated surprise with a dash of amusement.
"An' ye promise no' to try to get away when you're tied to--when I'm tied to you?"
"I promise."
Hereupon the farmer, reaching out his hand, picked up the black silk neckcloth which he had laid aside, and with it firmly bound his own left wrist to the right wrist of his captive, talking in a grave, subdued tone as he did so.
"Nae doot the promise o' a spy is hardly to be lippened to, but if I find that ye're a dishonourable man, ye'll find that I'm an uncomfortable prisoner to be tied to. Noo, git up, lad, an' we'll gang hame thegither."
On rising, the first thing the trooper did was to turn