Part 22 (1/2)

She and Alan Gordon were laid side by side, and every honour of war was paid to them.

MARGARET WILSON

It was ill work living in ”the killing time”--as it was significantly called--for those whose consciences would not let them conform to the laws laid down by Charles II. and his advisers for the regulation of public wors.h.i.+p in Scotland.

Religious toleration was no longer to be permitted. The Episcopal form of wors.h.i.+p was to be made compulsory, and that amongst persons who hated and abhorred it, looked upon it as something emanating more or less directly from the Evil One, and who clung all the more closely to their own barer forms of wors.h.i.+p and narrow purity of doctrine for the very opposition they had to encounter.

The Solemn League and Covenant had been formed for the protection of the Presbyterian form of wors.h.i.+p, and Covenanters was the name given to those who continued to meet in the forbidden a.s.semblies; and these were often held in the open air, in some wild and lonely spot, the men carrying weapons which were piled conveniently for instant use should an alarm be issued by the scouts set to watch, the women seated nearest to the preacher, and their horses picketed only a short distance off, so that flight should be quick and easy if there were danger of interruption from soldiers in the King's pay.

In those days it was no uncommon thing for houses and families to be strangely and pitifully split up and divided into hostile camps; but perhaps there were few instances so strange as that presented by the Wilson family, of Wigton.

Wilson was a prosperous farmer, a Presbyterian by tradition, though no theologian; but when the edicts went forth against the existing forms of wors.h.i.+p, and attendance at the parish church was enjoined, both he and his wife made no trouble about conforming to the new regulations, though whether this conformity came from liberality of mind or from fear of consequences cannot now be determined.

But, to their great astonishment and dismay, their two little girls, Margaret and Agnes, at that time quite children, could not be induced to accompany their parents to the church. What they had heard against Episcopal forms in old days seemed to have sunk so deeply into their hearts and consciences that there was no way of eradicating it; and great fear fell upon the parents, for the thing became known somewhat far and wide, and began to excite comment and question.

”Where are the bairns?” asked the farmer, coming in one day, with a look of anxiety upon his face.

”Nay, I know not,” answered his wife. ”They did their tasks, and then they both slipped away. I have not seen them this two hours. Like enough they have gone across to see Margaret M'Lauchlan. They are for ever running in and out of her house, say and do what I will!”

”A pestilent woman! Covenanter to the backbone! She will bring herself and our bairns to ruin if something be not done! Why do you not keep them at home with you?”

”Why, husband, how can I be in three or four places at once? I give them their tasks, but they do them with a will, and are gone ere I have time to turn round.”

”Ay, and are off to some Conventicle, I'll be bound. That woman M'Lauchlan is in the thick of all the Covenanters' secrets; and it's from her the bairns learn all those notions that will be their ruin one of these days. The Bible bids children obey their parents, but not a word will they hear from us! Or, rather, they listen, but will not heed.”

”Alack!--and so said I to them but the other day! and Margaret turned upon me and answered: ''Ay, mither, children are bidden to obey their parents in the Lord; but the Lord bids us not to sully our conscience by doing what is wrong, or bowing the knee to Baal.' They get taught by those who are good folks enough, but terrible stubborn, and wae's me, but I can say nought, and so they get the last word every time;” and the mother shook her head, for in her secret heart she was in far more sympathy with her bairns than was the father, who was seriously disturbed and anxious.

”They shall either learn to obey, or they must be sent away out of reach of that pestilent woman!” he cried, storming up and down. ”If they stay here they will bring themselves to prison and death, and us into, I know not what trouble! I'll be bound they are off to some preaching now! I hear there is to be one somewhere hard by. But this shall be the last.

If they will not promise to attend church with us they must be sent elsewhere. All the town begins to talk of it. Soon it will come to the magistrate's ears, and then----”

The mother clasped her hands, and the tears started to her eyes.

”They are but bairns; they are not near sixteen yet--not even Margaret.

What could they do to them?”

”They will make them feel the hand of the law; ay, and us too, as thou wilt plainly see! They talk about sixteen; but have not babes and sucklings been slaughtered ere this by the ruthless soldiers?”

The mother wept, and the father stormed; but the hours pa.s.sed on, and the girls did not return. It was almost dark ere they entered the house; and upon the fair face of the elder was a strange wrapt expression, that her mother had noted there many times of late, and which always filled her with a sense of awe.

She stood quietly beneath the storm of her father's anger; her deep blue eyes seeming to see away beyond him. Agnes, a slighter dark-eyed child, shrank away towards her mother, who could not repulse her; but Margaret was calm and serene.

”Dear father, thou dost not understand,” she said very softly at last, when the storm had well-nigh spent itself; ”perchance some day thine eyes will be opened to see even as we do. But----”

The sentence was not destined to be finished; a breathless messenger burst into the house, white-faced and wild-eyed. It was a tall lad, well known to the Wilsons, and his name was Archie Scott.

”The magistrate is coming--fly!--fly!” he cried. ”He is coming to seize Margaret and Agnes. It has been told him how that they never come to church; and to-day one brought word that they and others have been seen at a forbidden gathering. The soldiers and officers are already started forth to make a raid on all suspected houses. The girls must fly!--must fly at once! I have come to take them to a place where others are hiding for the moment. They have been preparing for this. They will not be taken altogether unawares. But there is not a moment to lose!”

The mother had clasped Agnes in her arms, and her tears were streaming down. The farmer was storming up and down in a tempest of fear and anger--anger at the girls, at the law, at the barbarity of punis.h.i.+ng mere children--at everything and everybody. Margaret alone was calm; her countenance had not changed.