Salute to Adventurers

more than that I should miss love and fortune in the sunlight and find them in the rain. The woman was a haggard, black-faced gipsy, and when my mother asked

y's bairn, and so, according to the old rhyme, "had far to go," convinced me long

o judge a cause by its latest professor. He had cast out with the Hamilton gentry, and, having broken the head of a dragoon in the change-house of Lesmahagow, had his little estate mulcted in fines. All of which, together with some natural curiosity and a family love of fighting, sent him to the ill-fated field of Bothwell Brig, from which he was lucky to escape with a bullet in the shoulder. Thereupon he had been put to the horn, and was now lying hid in a den in the mosses of Douglas Water. It was a sore business for my mother, who had the task of warding off prying eyes from our ragged household and keeping the fugitive in life. She was

it's time you were beginning." But I would not listen to her, till by the mercy of God we got my father safely forth of Scotland, and heard that he was dwelling snugly at Leyden in as gr

indly ale-houses to rest his legs in. But that day it rained as if the floodgates of heaven had opened. When I crossed Clyde by the bridge at Hyndford the water was swirling up to the key-stone. The ways were a foot deep in mire, and about Carnwath the bog had overflowed and the whole neighbourhood swam in a loch. It was pitiful to see the hay afloat

n a yard or two into a grey wall of rain, I began to misdoubt my knowledge of the way. On the left I saw a stone dovecot and a cluster of trees

laces. Suddenly through the falling water there stood up the gaunt end of a house. It was no cot or farm, but a proud mansion, though ba

so I skirted the pleasance to find the kitchen door. A glow of fire in one of the rooms cried welcome to my shivering bones, and on the far side of the house I found signs of better care. The rank grasses h

in a great horseman's cloak. The hood of it covered her hair, and the wide flaps were folded over her bosom. She sni

ty years before. It was a man's song, full of pride and daring, and not for the lips of a young maid. But th

nd only lo

tle worl

ed by no

rest mo

nfusion ha

tuous sou

synod in

r love th

aught but the best. The thing thrilled me, so that

?" she cried, with

onnet, and made

I was mortally ill at ease with women. "I am uncertain

oad three miles

crossing the m

laughing eyes, I saw how dark those eyes were,

d. "I can direct you as well as any Jock or

wton for my n

the hill above its well-head. The wind is blowing from the east, so keep it on your right cheek. That will b

dripping bonnet, and made for the dykes beyond the garden. Once I looked back, but she had no further interest in me

thee in such

er man

crown thy he

thee more

or a cup of heady wine. The picture ravished my fancy. The proud dark eye, the little wanton curls peeping from the hood, the whole figure alert with youth and life-they cheered my recollection as I trod that sour moorland. I tried to remembe

ry business to be out on the hills at such a season, for they are deathly quiet except for the lashing of the storm. You will never hear a bird cry or a sheep bleat or a weasel scream. The only sound is the drum of the rain

if I held to my directions I must still mount. I see now that the wind must have veered to the south-east, and that my plan was leading me into the fastnesses of the hills; but I would have wandered for weeks sooner than disobey the word of the girl who sang in the rain. Pre

the pit-mirk, and I was as sodden and bleached as the bent I trod on. A night on the hills had no terrors for me; but I was mortally cold and furiously hung

le rise, I caught a gleam of light. Instantly my mood changed to content. It could only be a herd's co

plastering my face and hair, I found I had lost my notion of the light's whereabouts. I strove to find another hillock, but I seemed now to

dy such as I have heard at field-preachings. Clearly the sound was human, though from what kind of crazy human creature I could not guess. Had I been less utterly forwandered and the night less wild, I think I would have sped away from it as

over their heads, who rocked and moaned like a flight of witches, and two-three men were on their knees at the edge of the ashes. But what caught my eye was the figure that stood before the tent. It was a long fellow, who held his arms to heaven, and sang in a great throaty voice the wild dirge I had been listenin

ted by the rain, and the whole thing gave under my feet. I slithered down into the sheepfold, and pitched headforemo

und before the tent, while the rest set up a skirling that deafened my wits.

ye here, disturbing the r

me to speak, so one

dy, precious Mr.

er; "it's a spy o

poke up a woman. "He favours the

hour cometh, yea, it is at hand, when the elect of the earth, meaning me and two-three others, will be enthroned above the Gentiles, and Dagon and Baal will be cast

strife in the westland parts of Clydesdale. I had heard much of him, and never any good. It was his way to draw after him a throng of demented women, so that the poor, draggle-tailed creatures forgot husband and bairns and followed him among the mosses. There were deeds of violence and blood to his name, and the look of him was enough to spoil a man's sleep. He was about six and a half feet high, with a long, lean head and starin

s time for me t

ter. My name is Andrew Garvald, and I have to-day left my home to make my

ord has led ye to our company by His own good way.

ish my colle

ll be consumed and wither away, with its cruel Ahabs and its painted Jezebels, its subtle Doegs and its lying Balaams, its priests and its judges, and its proud men of blood, its Bible-idolaters and its false prophets, its purple and damask, its gold and its fine linen, and it shal

ce my head was beginning to swim from my long fa

nder here; but if ye be not besotted in your sins ye shall drink of the Wate

ancy. There was a dead hush in the place, nothing but the crackle of the fire and the steady drip of the ra

ollowers. "It is the hour for sleep and prayer. I, John Gib, will wrestle all nig

a bit of oatcake and a piece of roasted moorfowl. This made my supper, with a long drink from a neighbouring burn. None hindered my movements, so, liking little the