Adam Hepburn's Vow: A Tale of Kirk and Covenant. Annie S. Swan
he was about to run off in search of his grandfather. "Stay, and I will walk down with you to the road, and by that time the horse and his rider, whoever he may be, will have reached the gate."
So saying, Jane Gray folded up her work, and in a minute had joined her nephew out of doors. "I cannot think that you can be right, Gavin," she said thoughtfully, "for I remember that Mr. Guthrie intended to be present at a special meeting in Edinburgh this week, and he has not yet had time to return to Stirling and come on so far as this."
"Why, there he is alighting at the gate, Aunt Jane! it is just Mr. Guthrie!" exclaimed the lad, and darting forward, he was the first to greet the much-beloved minister of Stirling, and to relieve him of his horse's bridle rein.
A glow of pleasure overspread the face of Jane Gray as she advanced to meet her father's revered friend, who was almost a brother to her, so close and dear was the intimacy between the two families.
"Mr. Guthrie, it is no ordinary pleasure to see you so unexpectedly," she said, as they shook hands; nevertheless her eyes dwelt rather anxiously upon his fine face, for in these troublous and foreboding times the announcement of danger or alarm might come at any moment.
"To me also, Miss Gray; I trust I have arrived to find your honoured father under his own roof-tree.
"Oh, yes; he is busy with his sermon. It is not often a minister is far from home on a Friday evening if he is to supply his own pulpit on the Sabbath Day. We thought you had been in Edinburgh this week, Mr. Guthrie."
"So I have been; and thanks to the Lord's journeying mercies vouchsafed to his unworthy servant, I have again been brought to my father's house in safety. The lad is out of hearing, I see," he added, glancing towards Gavin, who was leading the hot and dusty steed away in the direction of his grandfather's stable, "so I may say that a strange apprehension of evil came upon me in my bed last night, and so strong was the conviction in my mind this morning that I should not long be at liberty, that I was constrained to ride over here to be encouraged and comforted by your father's sweet counsel, and, if need be, bid your family circle, who are as dear to me almost as my own kinsfolk at Guthrie, a last farewell."
The ruddy colour faded out of Jane Gray's cheeks, and her startled eye looked with alarm into the minister's face. She was astonished and relieved at its sweet serenity; evidently his gloomy convictions had not power to rob him of his tranquillity.
"The Lord forbid that a hand should be laid on you, one of His most honoured and valued servants," she said involuntarily; "but pray tell me, Mr. Guthrie, have you had any warnings that the evil men in power are jealous of your influence for good?"
"In Edinburgh, yesterday, I was told that that good and noble lord, Archibald, Marquis of Argyll, will be laid hands upon ere long. If that be so, I cannot hope to escape, for I am doubly guilty of the actions which have doomed him. If it be so, and the Lord call me to bear witness for Him on the scaffold, He will give me strength to crucify the passions and affections of the body, and to glory in suffering for His sake."
The good man's face was suffused with a holy peace and joy, but a shudder ran through Jane Gray's frame, for not yet had the scaffold become so common, and in those brutal times so desirable a mode of exit from this troublous life as it was destined to become ere long in poor stricken Scotland.
"The prayers of God's people can but be offered up on your behalf, Mr. Guthrie. Such as you can ill be spared from the vineyard in these times," said Jane Gray, earnestly. "But now, let us tarry no longer out of doors; I am sure you stand in need of refreshment after your long ride."
Ere he crossed the threshold, the minister, as was his wont, raised his eyes to Heaven and reverently invoked a benediction in the words of the apostle of old: "Peace be to this house."
Having shown her guest into the sitting-room, Jane Gray sent Betty the maid to tap at the minister's door and tell him the Reverend James Guthrie, from Stirling, had arrived at the manse. Betty, or Elizabeth McBean, had served with the Grays since her girlhood, and her love for the family was only exceeded by her intense love and devotion to the Kirk of Scotland, and her intense hatred to every form of religion alien to the sound Presbyterianism of her forefathers.
While Jane Gray with her own hands set about preparing some refreshment for the guest, the minister, her father, left his study with joyful haste, and entering the family room, very warmly greeted his friend and brother-minister, whom he had known and loved these many years. There was a great change in the minister of Inverburn since that memorable time three-and-twenty years before, when he had visited Edinburgh, and witnessed with his brethren for the Covenant in the Kirk of the Greyfriars.
His tall, spare figure was now much stooped, his face worn and wrinkled, his eye, though still bright and clear, far sunken in his head, his long hair and flowing beard as white as the driven snow. He looked a patriarch indeed, and the serene and heavenly expression on his face, his kindly smile, and sweet fatherliness of manner and tone were calculated to inspire the deepest reverence and love.
"Bless the Lord, I am again permitted to look upon your face, my brother!" he said, as he warmly and fervently grasped Mr. Guthrie's hand. "But I trust no untoward circumstances prompt your unlooked-for visit. In these troublous times we are all as watchers on the house-top."
"I was but saying to your daughter, Mr. Gray, that it was a presentiment of evil which brought me here to-night," replied the minister of Stirling. "I only returned from Edinburgh yesterday, and what I heard there augured ill for the peace of Zion. It is rumoured that the Marquis of Argyll is no longer safe, so the king's emissaries are not to be satisfied with common prey."
"I can hardly credit the truth of such rumours, Mr. Guthrie," replied the minister of Inverburn. "Gratitude for past invaluable services should render his person sacred in the eyes of the king."
An expression of mild scorn passed over Mr. Guthrie's face.
"Gratitude is a word not found in the vocabulary of the House of Stuart," he said, quietly. "The Marquis, I am told, leaves for London on Monday, to offer his congratulations to the king on his restoration. I fear me he takes the journey at his own great risk."
"If need be the Lord will hold His sheltering arm over him, Mr. Guthrie," said the minister of Inverburn, cheerfully. "No man, either prince or peasant, shall die before the appointed time. But here comes Jane with your refreshment. I hope it is not your intention to quit the roof-tree of the manse before the dawning of another day."
"If convenient for Miss Jane I will very gladly stay," answered Mr. Guthrie. "As troubles thicken round us, opportunities for sweet counsel together, though more sorely needed, will become more limited, I fear. And now, are all your kinsfolk at Hartrigge and Rowallan well? and is the kirk at Broomhill prospering under David's ministrations?"
"Verily the Lord hath been pleased to greatly bless the lad in his labours," said the minister of Inverburn, in tones of satisfaction. "Here comes young Gavin Gray, in whose studies I take a deep interest. Here Gavin, lad, come and speak to the Reverend Mr. Guthrie, and behold in him the pattern of what I one day hope to see you become."
The bright, happy-faced boy came forward frankly, and was again addressed cordially by the minister of Stirling.
"I have been thinking, father," said Jane Gray's pleasant voice in the doorway, "that Gavin might saddle Donald, and carry word of Mr. Guthrie's visitation both to his father's house, and to his uncle and aunt at Rowallan. Andrew and Susan, I am sure, would be greatly rejoiced to come over to the manse. They could drive round in their little cart to Rowallan, and bring over Adam and Agnes with them."
"A very good suggestion, my daughter," said Mr. Gray. "You hear what your aunt says, Gavin," he added to the lad. "Run and get Donald saddled and if you ride quickly they can all be here before the evening is far spent."
Gavin, nothing loth, at once obeyed his grandfather's behest, and was soon scampering along the road towards Hartrigge.
CHAPTER IV.
THE MINISTER'S CHILDREN.
The farm of Hartrigge, where abode the minister's eldest son, was one of the largest holdings on the