Hunted and Harried | Page 6

tables of plank. It took several hours to complete the
work. When it was done Andrew Black surveyed it with complacency,
and gave it as his opinion that it was a "braw kirk, capable o'
accommodatin' a congregation o' some thoosands, mair or less." Then
the two men, Gordon and McCubine, bidding him and the shepherd
good-night, went away into the darkness from which they had emerged.
"Whar'll they be sleepin' the nicht?" asked the shepherd, as he and
Andrew turned 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