Part 29 (1/2)

”We judge of the tree by the fruit,” said Poundtext, ”and allow not that to be of divine inspiration that contradicts the divine laws.”

”You forget, brother Poundtext,” said Macbriar, ”that these are the latter days, when signs and wonders shall be multiplied.”

Poundtext stood forward to reply; but, ere he could articulate a word, the insane preacher broke in with a scream that drowned all compet.i.tion.

”Who talks of signs and wonders? Am not I Habakkuk Mucklewrath, whose name is changed to Magor-Missabib, because I am made a terror unto myself and unto all that are around me?--I heard it--When did I hear it?--Was it not in the Tower of the Ba.s.s, that overhangeth the wide wild sea?--And it howled in the winds, and it roared in the billows, and it screamed, and it whistled, and it clanged, with the screams and the clang and the whistle of the sea-birds, as they floated, and flew, and dropped, and dived, on the bosom of the waters. I saw it--Where did I see it?--Was it not from the high peaks of Dunbarton, when I looked westward upon the fertile land, and northward on the wild Highland hills; when the clouds gathered and the tempest came, and the lightnings of heaven flashed in sheets as wide as the banners of an host?--What did I see?--Dead corpses and wounded horses, the rus.h.i.+ng together of battle, and garments rolled in blood.--What heard I?--The voice that cried, Slay, slay--smite--slay utterly--let not your eye have pity! slay utterly, old and young, the maiden, the child, and the woman whose head is grey--Defile the house and fill the courts with the slain!”

”We receive the command,” exclaimed more than one of the company. ”Six days he hath not spoken nor broken bread, and now his tongue is unloosed:--We receive the command; as he hath said, so will we do.”

Astonished, disgusted, and horror-struck, at what he had seen and heard, Morton turned away from the circle and left the cottage. He was followed by Burley, who had his eye on his motions.

”Whither are you going?” said the latter, taking him by the arm.

”Any where,--I care not whither; but here I will abide no longer.”

”Art thou so soon weary, young man?” answered Burley. ”Thy hand is but now put to the plough, and wouldst thou already abandon it? Is this thy adherence to the cause of thy father?”

”No cause,” replied Morton, indignantly--”no cause can prosper, so conducted. One party declares for the ravings of a bloodthirsty madman; another leader is an old scholastic pedant; a third”--he stopped, and his companion continued the sentence--”Is a desperate homicide, thou wouldst say, like John Balfour of Burley?--I can bear thy misconstruction without resentment. Thou dost not consider, that it is not men of sober and self-seeking minds, who arise in these days of wrath to execute judgment and to accomplish deliverance. Hadst thou but seen the armies of England, during her Parliament of 1640, whose ranks were filled with sectaries and enthusiasts, wilder than the anabaptists of Munster, thou wouldst have had more cause to marvel; and yet these men were unconquered on the field, and their hands wrought marvellous things for the liberties of the land.”

”But their affairs,” replied Morton, ”were wisely conducted, and the violence of their zeal expended itself in their exhortations and sermons, without bringing divisions into their counsels, or cruelty into their conduct. I have often heard my father say so, and protest, that he wondered at nothing so much as the contrast between the extravagance of their religious tenets, and the wisdom and moderation with which they conducted their civil and military affairs. But our councils seem all one wild chaos of confusion.”

”Thou must have patience, Henry Morton,” answered Balfour; ”thou must not leave the cause of thy religion and country either for one wild word, or one extravagant action. Hear me. I have already persuaded the wiser of our friends, that the counsellors are too numerous, and that we cannot expect that the Midianites shall, by so large a number, be delivered into our hands. They have hearkened to my voice, and our a.s.semblies will be shortly reduced within such a number as can consult and act together; and in them thou shalt have a free voice, as well as in ordering our affairs of war, and protecting those to whom mercy should be shown--Art thou now satisfied?”

”It will give me pleasure, doubtless,” answered Morton, ”to be the means of softening the horrors of civil war; and I will not leave the post I have taken, unless I see measures adopted at which my conscience revolts.

But to no b.l.o.o.d.y executions after quarter asked, or slaughter without trial, will I lend countenance or sanction; and you may depend on my opposing them, with both heart and hand, as constantly and resolutely, if attempted by our own followers, as when they are the work of the enemy.”

Balfour waved his hand impatiently.

”Thou wilt find,” he said, ”that the stubborn and hard-hearted generation with whom we deal, must be chastised with scorpions ere their hearts be humbled, and ere they accept the punishment of their iniquity. The word is gone forth against them, 'I will bring a sword upon you that shall avenge the quarrel of my Covenant.' But what is done shall be done gravely, and with discretion, like that of the worthy James Melvin, who executed judgment on the tyrant and oppressor, Cardinal Beaton.”

”I own to you,” replied Morton, ”that I feel still more abhorrent at cold-blooded and premeditated cruelty, than at that which is practised in the heat of zeal and resentment.”

”Thou art yet but a youth,” replied Balfour, ”and hast not learned how light in the balance are a few drops of blood in comparison to the weight and importance of this great national testimony. But be not afraid; thyself shall vote and judge in these matters; it may be we shall see little cause to strive together anent them.”

With this concession Morton was compelled to be satisfied for the present; and Burley left him, advising him to lie down and get some rest, as the host would probably move in the morning.

”And you,” answered Morton, ”do not you go to rest also?”

”No,” said Burley; ”my eyes must not yet know slumber. This is no work to be done lightly; I have yet to perfect the choosing of the committee of leaders, and I will call you by times in the morning to be present at their consultation.”

He turned away, and left Morton to his repose.

The place in which he found himself was not ill adapted for the purpose, being a sheltered nook, beneath a large rock, well protected from the prevailing wind. A quant.i.ty of moss with which the ground was overspread, made a couch soft enough for one who had suffered so much hards.h.i.+p and anxiety. Morton wrapped himself in the horse-man's cloak which he had still retained, stretched himself on the ground, and had not long indulged in melancholy reflections on the state of the country, and upon his own condition, ere he was relieved from them by deep and sound slumber.

The rest of the army slept on the ground, dispersed in groups, which chose their beds on the fields as they could best find shelter and convenience. A few of the princ.i.p.al leaders held wakeful conference with Burley on the state of their affairs, and some watchmen were appointed who kept themselves on the alert by chanting psalms, or listening to the exercises of the more gifted of their number.

CHAPTER II.

Got with much ease--now merrily to horse.