heart, and that never failed to affect the hearer. She wore a russet worsted gown, clouted shoes, and a quoif, or mutch, upon her head, that was crimped and plaited so elose around her face that very little of the latter was visible. A sort of secret understanding begins to grow up between Nanny and her beautiful young mistress. The characters of both are, indeed, not a little singular, and there is almost as much mystery about the conduct of Katharine as that of her strange and unaccountable friend. That she is engaged in some affair that she is fearful of communicating to her parents, we soon discover, but the exquisite purity and sweetness of her character forbids the supposition of any thing criminal attaching itself to her. From her mother she is completely estranged, the good old dame being firmly convinced that her daughter is in league with the infernal spirits that haunt the neighbourhood, and, more dreadful still, holds communion with the terrible and plundering Brownie. While things are in this state at Chapelhope, the amiable viscount of Dundee makes his appearance there with fifty of his myrmidons, to inquire concerning the sudden and well-deserved fate of the soldiers belonging to the party sent out with Copland, who, with a sir Thomas Livingston, and a captain Bruce, accompanies the ruffian. Walter is absent, and they proceed, in their usual brutal manner, to interrogate poor old Nanny, who, however, outwits and makes them all look very silly. They search-Clavers and Livingston taking one direction, and Bruce and Copland another. "In the Old Room they found the beautiful witch Katharine, with the train of her snowwhite joup drawn over her head, who look ed as if taken in some evil act by surprise, and greatly confounded when she saw two gentlemen enter her sanctuary in splendid uniforms. As they approached, she made a slight curtsey, to which they deigned no return; but going straight up to her, Clavers seized her by both wrists. And is it, indeed true,' said he, my beautiful shepherdess, that we have caught you at your prayers so early this morning?" "And what if you have, sir?' returned she.' "Why, nothing at all, save that I earnestly desire, and long exceedingly to join with you in your devotional exercises,' laying hold of her in the rudest manner. "Katharine screamed so loud that in an instant old Nanny was at their side, with revenge gleaming from her half-shaded eyes, and heaving over her shoulder a large greenkale gully, with which she would doubtless have silenced the renowned Dundee for VOL. II-No. v. 44 ever, had not Livingston sprung forward with the utmost celerity, and caught her arm just as the stroke was descending. But Nanny did not spare her voice; she lifted it up with shouts on high, and never suffered one yell to lose hearing of another. the hill, and hearing the hideous uproar in "Walter, having just then returned from the Old Room, rushed into it forthwith to see what was the matter. Katharine was just sinking, when her father entered, within the grasp of the gentle and virtuous Clavers. The backs of both the knights were towards Walter as he came in, and they were so engaged amid bustle and din that neither of them perceived him, until he was close at their backs. He was at least a foot taller than any of them, and nearly as wide round the chest as them both. In one moslender necks, almost meeting behind each ment his immense fingers grasped both their of their windpipes. They were rendered powerless at once-they attempted no more struggling with the women, for so completely had Walter's gripes unnerved them, that they could scarcely lift their arms from their sides; neither could they articulate word, or utter any other sound than a kind of choaked gasping for breath. Walter wheeled them about to the light, and looked alternately at each of them, without quitting or even slackening his hold. "Callants, wha ir ye ava ?-or what's the meanin' o' a' this unmencefu' rampaging?" "Sir Thomas gave his name in a hoarse and broken voice; but Clavers, whose nape Walter's right hand embraced, and whose rudeness to his daughter had set his mountain-blood a-boiling, could not answer word. Walter, slackening his hold, somewhat, waited for an answer, but none coming "Wha ir ye, I say, ye bit useless weazelblawn like urf that ye're ? The haughty and insolent Clavers was stung with rage; but seeing no immediate redress was to be had, he endeavoured to pronounce his dreaded name, but it was in a whisper scarcely audible, and stuck in his throat-Jo-o-o Graham,' said he. "Jock Graham do they ca' ye?—Ye're but an unmannerly whalp, man. And ye're baith king's officers too!-Weel, I'll tell ye what it is, my denty clever callants; if it warna for the blood that's i' your master's veins, I wad nite your twa bits o' pows thegither.' "He then threw them from him; the one the one way, and the other the other, and lifting his huge oak staff, he strode out at the door, saying, as he left them, Heh! are free men to be guidit this gate?—I'n step down to the green to your commander, an' tell him what kind o' chaps he keeps about him to send into fock's houses.--Dirty unmencefu' things!'" The result of this visit is the seizure of Walter, to take his trial at Edinburgh for disaffection. The conduct of Clavers and his gang during their stay was marked by every token of the most confirmed and diabolical turpitude. The chief pretext for Walter's imprisonment is fur nished by a large quantity of ready dressed provisions, which had been provided by his directions to entertain Clavers and his men on their expected arrival, but which Dundee insists had been prepared for the objects of his persecution. After many vain endea; vours to obtain farther information, torturing a poor old shepherd, almost frightening Walter's sons, both mere children, out of their lives, plundering Laidlaw's house, and committing all sorts of depredations in the neighbourhood, Clavers departs, taking Walter with him. The country is scoured by Dundee in search of the Cameronians, and in this pursuit he displays a keenness and indefatigability worthy a truly infernal nature. Many fell into the villain's hands-and were instantly murdered. "Four were surprised and taken prisoners on a height called Cer-Cleuch-Ridge, who were brought to Clavers and shortly examined on a little crook in the Erne Cleuch, a little above the old steading at Hopertoudy. "Macpherson kept the high road, such as it was, with his prisoner; but travelled no faster than just to keep up with the parties that were scouring the hills on each side; and seeing these unfortunate men hunted in from the hill, he rode up with his companions and charge to see the issue, remarking to Walter, that, he woolt not pe much creat deal te worse of scheeing fwat te Cot t-n'd fwigs would pe getting." "How did Walter's heart smite him when be saw that one of them was the sensible, judicious, and honourable fellow with whom he fought, and whose arm he had dislocated by a blow with his stick! It was still banging in a sling made of a double rash rope. "They would renounce nothing, confess nothing, nor yield, in the slightest degree, to the threats and insulting questions put by the general. They expected no mercy, and they cringed for none; but seemed all the while to regard him with pity and contempt. Walter often said that he was an ill judge of the cause for which these men suffered; but whatever might be said of it, they were heroes in that cause. Their complexions were sallow, and bore marks of famine and other privations; their beards untrimmed; their apparel all in rags, and their hats slouched down about their ears with sleeping on the hills. All this they had borne with resignation and without a murmur; and, when brought to the last, before the most remorsefess of the human race, they showed no symptoms of flinching or yielding up an item of the cause they had espoused. “When asked, if they would pray for the king?" 6 all their hearts; they would pray for his "They answered, that they would with forgiveness, in time and place convenient, but not when every profligate bade them, which were a loathful scurrility, and a mockery of God.' "Would they acknowledge him as their right and lawful sovereign?' "No, that they would never do! He was a bloody and designing papist, and had usurped a prerogative that belonged not to for king, would be to acknowledge the dihim. To acknowledge the Duke of York vine approbation of tyranny, oppression, usurpation, and all that militates against religion or liberty, as well as justifying the abrogation of our ancient law relating to the succession; and that, besides, he had trampled on every civil and religious right, and was no king for Scotland, or any land where the inhabitants did not choose the most abject and degrading slavery. For their parts, they would never acknowledge him; and though it was but little that their protestations and their blood could avail, they gave them freely. They had but few left to mourn for them, and these few might never know of their fate; but there was One who knew their hearts, who saw their sufferings, and in Him they trusted that the days of tyranny and oppression were wearing to a close, and that a race yet to come might acknowledge that they had not shed their blood in vain.' "Clavers ordered them all to be shot. They craved time to pray, but he objected, sullenly alleging, that he had not time to spare. Mr. Copland said,- My lord, you had better grant the poor wretches that small indulgence.' On which Clavers took out his watch, and said he would grant them two minutes, provided they did not howl. When the man with the hurt arm turned round to kneel, Walter could not help cry. ing out to him in a voice half stifled with agony Ah! lak-a-day, man! is it come to this with you, and that so soon? This is a sad sight!" "The man pretended to put on a strange and astonished look towards his bene factor. "Whoever you are,' said he, that pities the sufferings of a hapless stranger, I thank you. May God requite you! but think of yourself, and apply for mercy where it is to be found, for you are in the hands of those whose boast it is to despise it.' "Walter at first thought this was strange, but he soon perceived the policy of it, and wondered at his friend's readiness at such an awful hour, when any acknowledg ment of connexion would have been so fatal to himself. They kneeled all down, clasped their hands together, turned their faces to Heaven, and prayed in a scarce audible whisper. Captain Bruce, in the mean time, kneeled behind the files, and prayed in mockery, making a long face, wiping his eyes, and speakingin such a ludicrous whine, that it was impossible for the gravest face to retain its muscles unaltered. He had more to attend to him than the miserable sufferers. When the two minutes were expired, Clavers, who held his watch all the time, made a sign to the dragoons who were drawn up, without giving any intimation to the sufferers, which, perhaps, was merciful, and in a moment all the four were launched into eternity. "The soldiers, for what reason Walter never understood, stretched the bodies all in a straight line on the brae, with their faces upwards, and about a yard distant from one another, and then rode off as fast as they could to get another hunt, as they called it. These four men were afterwards carried by the fugitives, and some country people, and decently interred in Ettrick church-yard. Their graves are all in a row a few paces from the south-west corner of the present church. The goodman of Chapelhope, some years thereafter, erected a head-stone over the grave of the unfortunate sufferer whose arm he had broken, which, with its rude sculpture, is to be seen to this day. His name was Walter Biggar. A small heap of stones is raised on the place where they were shot." We shall give but one more instance of the horrible cruelties committed by the government agents at this period. The priest of Tweedsmuir had given information of a meeting of Covenanters at a place called Tallo-Lins. Thither a party of military were despatched. The commanding officer, a serjeant Douglas, had been told by this wretched fellow that in a cottage hard by there was an individual whom he suspected to be a Covenanter, and to have attended at the above meeting. "About the break of day, they went and surrounded a shepherd's cottage belonging to the farm of Corehead, having been led thither by the curate, where they found the shepherd, an old man, his daughter, and one Edward M'Cane, son to a merchant in Lanarkshire, who was courting this shepherdess, a beautiful young maiden. The curate having got intelligence that a stranger was at that house, immediately suspected him to be one of the wanderers, and on this surmise the information was given. The curate acknowledged the shepherd and his daughter as parishioners, but of M'Cane, he said, he knew nothing, and had no doubt that he was one of the rebellious whigs. They fell to examine the youth, but they were all affected with the liquor they had drunk over night, and made a mere farce of it, paying no regard to his answers, or, if they did, it was merely to misconstrue or mock them. He denied having been at the meeting at Tallo-Lins, and all acquaintance with the individuals whom they named as having been there present. Finding that they could make nothing of him whereon to ground a charge, Douglas made them search him for arms; for being somewhat drunk, he took it highly amiss that he should have been brought out of his way for nothing. M'Cane judged himself safe on that score, for he knew that he had neither knife, razor, bodkin, nor edged instrument of any kind about him; but as ill luck would have it, he chanced to have an old gun-flint in his waistcoat pocket. Douglas instantly pronounced this to be sufficient, and ordered him to be shot. M'Cane was speechless for some time with astonishment, and at length told his errand, and the footing on which he stood with the young girl before them, offering at the same time to bring proofs from his own parish of his loyalty and conformity. He even condescended to kneel to the ruffian, to clasp his knees, and beg and beseech of him to be allowed time for a regular proof; but nothing would move him. He said, the courtship was a very clever excuse, but would not do with him, and forthwith ordered him to be shot. He would not even allow him to sing a psalm with his two friends, but cursed and swore that the devil a psalm he should sing there. He said, 'It would not be singing a few verses of a would keep him out of hell; and if he went psalm in a wretched and miserable style that to heaven, he might then lilt as much at psalm-singing as he had a mind.' When the girl, his betrothed sweet-heart, saw the muskets levelled at her lover, she broke through the file, shrieking most piteously, threw herself on him, clasped his neck and kissed him, crying, like one distracted, O Edward, take me wi' ye-take me wi' ye; a' the warld sanna part us.' looked forward to long and happy years "Ah! Mary,' said he, last night we how joyful were our hopes! but they are all blasted at once. Be comforted, my dearest, dearest heart!-God bless you!--Farewell for ever.' "The soldiers then dragged her backward, mocking her with indelicate remarks, and while she was yet scarcely two paces removed, and still stretching out her hands towards him, six balls were lodged in his heart in a moment, and he fell dead at her feet. Deformed and bloody as he was, she pressed the corpse to her bosom, moaning and sobbing in such a way as if every throb would have been her last, and in that condition the soldiers marched merrily off and left them." On the way to Edinburgh, Laidlaw has occasion to observe in Roy Macpherson symptoms of a kinder disposition than he supposed him to possess. The blunt sol dier soon begins to feel an esteem for Walter, which by degrees ripens into friendship, and before they part, he gives him advice as to his behaviour before the council, which proves of the utmost importance to him, and in all probability saved his life. In the meanwhile Katharine is in the deepest distress for the fate of her father, when she receives a letter from him, directing her to repair with all speed to the Laird of Drummelzier, Walter's landlord, and who held him in high esteem, inform him of the predicament in which he stood, and beseech his advice and good offices in his behalf with the government. In this he followed Macpherson's counsel, Drummelzier being a man of considerable consequence, high rank, powerful connexions, and a member of the Committee of Public Safety. Katharine, on the receipt of this letter, is thrown into considerable perplexity,on the one hand, her father's danger is too urgent to admit of delay, and on the other circumstances at home, connected with the fate of several worthy and distressed individuals, belonging to the Cameronians, (among them one of their most celebrated preachers,) render it almost equally imperative upon her to remain at Chapelhope; the only means of extricating from this dilemma is to find one capable of officiating for her during her absence, and in whose fidelity she can confide. Among the ignorant and bewildered rustics of the neighbourhood this is impossible-her brothers are too young-and with respect to her mother, the alarm with which the "gudewife" already regards her daughter as the associate of evil spirits, independently of her natural incapacity to keep a secret, makes her just the least proper person in the world to be intrusted with so important a commission. In this situation her thoughts turn to Nanny Elshinder. "Nothing could be more interesting than her character was now to the bewildered Katharine-it arose to her eyes, and grew on her mind like a vision. She had been led previously to regard her as having been crazed from her birth, and her songs and chants to be mere ravings of fancy, strung in rhymes to suit favourite airs, or old scraps of ballads void of meaning, that she had learned in ber youth. But there was a wild elegance at times in her manner of thinking and expression-a dash of sublimity that was inconsistent with such an idea. Is it possible,' (thus reasoned the maiden with herself,) that this demeanor can be the effect of great worldly trouble and loss? Perhaps she is bereft of all those who were near and dear to her in life—is left alone as it were in this world, and has lost a relish She sounds Nanny-assures her of the deep interest and tender concern she takes in her sorrows-and gradually approaching the subject on which she wishes to consult her, questions her as to her notions concerning spirits and supernatural appearances, and asks her if one of these unearthly beings should appear before her, "Would she be frightened?" it, yet I would stand it." "In my own strength I could not stand list to me: You will assuredly see one in my absence; and you must take good in "Nanny gave up her work, and listened fock says!' said she, with a long-drawn sigh. suspense. Then it is a' true that the 'His presence be about us!' "How sensibly you spoke just now! Where is your faith fled already? I tell you there will one appear to you every night in my absence, precisely on the first crowing of the cock, about an hour after midnight, and you must give him every thing that he asks, else it may fare the worse with you, and all about the house.' her weight-they trembled under her. She "Nanny's limbs were unable to support both hands, and recited the 63d Psalm from sat down on a form, leaned her brow upon beginning to end in a fervent tone. "I wasna prepared for this,' said she. 'I fear, though my faith may stand it, my wits will not. Dear, dear bairn, is there nae way to get aff frae sic a trial?' "There is only one, which is fraught with danger of another sort; but were I sure that I could trust you with it, all might be well, and you would rest free from any intercourse with that unearthly visitant, of whom it seems you are so much in terror." "For my own sake ye may trust me there: Ony thing but a bogle face to face at midnight, an' me a' my lane. It is right wonderfu', though I ken I'll soon be in a warld o' spirits, an' that I maun mingle an' mool wi' them for ages, how the nature within me revolts at a communion wi' them here. Dear bairn, gie me your other plan, an' trust me for my own sake.' "It is this-but if you adopt it, for your life and soul let no one in "this place know of it but yourself:-It is to admit one or two of the fugitive whigs, these people that skulk and pray about the mountains, privily into the house every nights until my return. If you will give me any test of your secrecy and truth, I will find ways and means of bringing them to you, which will effectually bar all intrusion of bogle or Brownie on your quiet; or should any such dare to appear, they will deal with it themselves.' "An' can the presence o' ane o' them do this?' said Nanny, starting up and speaking in a loud eldrich voice. Then heaven and hell acknowledges it, an' the earth maun soon do the same! I knew it!-I knew it! -I knew it !-ha, ha, ha, I knew it !-Ah! John, thou art safe!-Ay! an' mae than thee; an' there will be mae yet! It is but a day! an' dark an' dismal though it be, the change will be the sweeter! Blessed, blessed be the day! None can say of thee that thou died like a fool, for thy hands were not bound, nor thy feet put into fetters.' Then turning close round to Katharine, with an expression of countenance quite indescribable, she added in a quick maddened manner, Eh? Thou seekest a test of me, dost thou? Can blood do it?-Can martyrdom do it?-Can bonds, wounds, tortures, and mockery do it?-Can death itself do it? All these have I suffered for that cause in this same body, mark that; for there is but one half of my bone and my flesh here. But words are, nothing to the misbelievingmere air mouthed into a sound. Look at this for a test of my sincerity and truth.' So saying, she gave her hand a wild brandish in the air, darted it at her throat and snapping the tie of her cap that she had always worn over her face, she snatched it off, and turning her cheek round to her young mistress, added, Look there for your test, and if that is not enough, I will give you more?' "Katharine was struck dumb with astonishment and horror. She saw that her ears were cut out close to the skull, and a C. R. indented on her cheek with a hot iron, as deep as the jaw-bone. She burst out a crying-clasped the old enthusiast in her arms-kissed the wound and steeped it with her tears, and without one further remark, led her away to the Old Room, that they might converse without interruption." Katharine now departs for Drummelzier-and informs the Laird of her father's situation. Drummelzier receives the intelligence with great wrath, and regrets that Laidlaw's seizure in a part of the country to which his jurisdiction did not extend, prevents him from setting his tenant at liberty. However, all that he can do, he does. He writes to the council in his behalf, interests several gentlemen of the first character in his favour, and moreover gives Katharine a bond to a high amount, and signed by himself, as security for his appearance in any court-this was to be used only in case Walter should not be conveyed to Edinburgh; if taken to the metropolis, Katharine was to leave the affair entirely to the Laird. Katharine endeavours, in vain, to find her father, who, as we have already said, has been taken to Edinburgh. There, partly through Drummelzier's intercession, partly through his own firm spirit and adoption of Macpherson's counsel, he fares better than he had reason to expect. He is acquitted, or rather released upon bail, and takes his way back to Chapelhope. On her return, Katharine finds every thing in confusion-Nanny-and all the family and household flown-and an aspect of desertion spread over the whole establishment. Nanny had seen frightful things while her dear Katharine was away, but it is here necessary to go back somewhat in our story. The curate Clerk,-we have already introduced him to the notice and contempt of our readers—had beheld and been inflamed by the exquisite loveliness of Katharine's person, and the low servile parasite lusted for the possession of her virgin charms. He was a favorite with the credulous and priest-ridden motheracquainted with all the rumours circulated in the neighbourhood to Katharine's prejudice-and in a conversation with Laidlaw's wife, proposes, after a long conversation upon Katharine's correspondence with infernal spirits, to sit up with her during the night, to drive the unholy influence from the sweet damsel. The mother assents with rapture-and the scoundrel takes his station in Katharine's room at midnight-he informs her of the base trick he has played off upon her mother, and after letting her understand that all resistance will be vain, for that he has settled that no interruption is to be made, whatever noises may be heard, unblushingly avows his intentions-Katharine, at first repulses him with astonishment-but on the renewal of his licentious suit, serenely requests him to wait for half an hour, at the end of which, if his mind changes not, she will surrender to his wishes; Clerk consents the allotted time expires-and-but this is a scene that we must give Mr. Hogg the advantage of relating. the sand had nearly run out for the second time "The hour of midnight was now passed,since the delay had been acceded to, and Clerk had been for a while tapping the glass on the side, and shaking it, to make it empty its contents the sooner. Katharine likewise began to eye it with looks that manifested some degree of still in one position, as if listening attentively perturbation; she clasped the Bible, and sate for some sound or signal. The worthy curate |