Tales of the Covenanters. Ellen Emma Guthrie
as a rock of defence in the hour of danger, and restore you once more to me, my beloved son," exclaimed his mother, placing her hands on his lowly bent head, and weeping as she spoke; "the Lord knows," she continued, "the bitterness of my heart this night, and yet why should I grudge you in so good a cause? Rise, my son, rise; and may the Power above, who is able and willing to help us in the time of need, guide you in all safety, and strengthen me in the hour of trial."
Young Telford sprang to his feet, and clasping his betrothed in his arms, was about to comfort her with assurances of his speedy return, when he perceived she had fainted.
"My poor Jeanie!" exclaimed Mrs. Telford tenderly, then pointing to the door, she conjured her son to hasten away ere his betrothed recovered her consciousness, and thus spare her the agony of witnessing his departure.
"Ay, far better it should be so, mother," replied her son, "and yet it is hard to leave my Jeanie thus; but tell her I only went to spare her further pain;" so saying, he placed the unconscious girl gently in a chair, imprinted a kiss on her clay-cold forehead, wrung his mother's hand, and was gone.
Scarcely had he disappeared, ere Jeanie Irving, with a deep-drawn sigh of anguish, opened her eyes, and fixing them with a wandering vacant look upon Mrs. Telford, who had placed her upon her own bed, and was now bending over her with almost maternal solicitude depicted upon her benevolent countenance, inquired where she was, and if she had been only dreaming he had seen her Willie.
"'Deed and it was no fancy," replied Mrs. Telford; "Willie was here sure enough, but don't speak any more about him just at present, like a dear, good girl; he will be back to-morrow evening to tell you all about himself, and where he has been; so just remain quiet for a little while, and I will go to Mr. Irving and tell him that you will stay here a day or two, to comfort me in the absence of my sons;" so saying, and without tarrying for an answer, away she ran to execute her mission.
Early on the following morning, Jeanie Irving, whom no reasoning on the part of Mrs. Telford could induce to remain in bed, posted herself at the door of the cottage, eager to obtain the first glimpse of him she loved, should he return according to his promise. In the meantime the royal army had advanced towards Bothwell, where the Covenanting party was stationed, and soon the mighty roar of cannon proclaimed to the startled ears of Jeanie that the fighting had commenced. In her wild eagerness to ascertain the fate of her lover. she was about to rush madly forward in the direction from whence the sounds proceeded, and the almost frantic efforts of Mrs. Telford were scarce sufficient to restrain her from executing her purpose. For a few hours the thunder of the cannon, mingled with the firing of musketry, struck terror to the hearts of the affrighted women, who clung to each other, pale and speechless; while pealed forth the death-knell of many a gallant heart. Then came a lull, even more dreadful in its terrific calmness, for it proclaimed the battle was over—that the fate of their loved ones was decided. And now might be seen riderless horses galloping wildly across the plain, and mounted horsemen spurring their jaded steeds beyond their powers of endurance; while more slowly, and dragging his weary steps along, the wounded Covenanter strove to find safety in flight from the disastrous field. With a scream of delight, Jeanie bounded forward on observing the figure of a young man, evidently making towards them; but, on nearing him, she found to her consternation it was Thomas, and not William Telford, who now approached, staggering under the load of the banner, which, soiled and torn, he laid at his mother's feet.
"Thomas!" screamed Mrs. Telford; "but where is Willie? Oh! wherefore so silent?"
"Speak, I implore you, speak," gasped forth Jeanie Irving, "is he killed? Is he wounded?"
"He is a prisoner!" was the sad reply.
"God be praised it is no worse!" fervently ejaculated the weeping girl; "I shall yet save him, or perish in the attempt."
"And you, Thomas, what of yourself?" demanded Mrs. Telford, observing the ghastly expression of her son's face, while traces of blood were yet apparent on his coat and hands. The young man, without a reply, uncovered his head, and displayed, in so doing, a frightful gash on his forehead. "My son, my son!" groaned forth the afflicted mother, "Oh! this is hard—hard to bear. I thought I had taught myself to say with resignation, 'the Lord's will be done;' but, oh my rebellious heart!"
"'I said I should bring it back to you, mother, if life were spared me to perform my promise, and I have done it," proudly exclaimed her son. "I have brought it in safety; but, alas! from a dishonoured field. Treachery has lost us the day, and ruined our cause for ever. But Willie and I did our duty. While a ray of hope still animated the bosoms of our leaders, we would not quit the field. Willie was mad with rage. He fought like a lion. Every soldier he encountered fell beneath his sword. My care was the banner. Three dragoons attacked me. Encumbered with the standard, I called upon Willie for assistance. He came hewing down all in his way. A musket was upraised to shoot him. I struck it down, and, in so doing, received this wound on my forehead from a cowardly ruffian, who took advantage of my being engaged with another, to inflict the dastardly blow. I fell with the banner beneath me. Then the dragoons, aided by two others, rushed upon Willie, and bore him away. They would have killed him, but for the Duke of Monmouth, who commanded them to spare his life. I struggled to regain my feet; but fainted away through loss of blood. On recovering my senses, I observed a dragoon stealing up to deprive me of my standard; but one blow from the butt-end of my musket despatched him, and, grasping my banner in my hand, I made another effort to rise, and succeeded. Captain Paton advanced. 'My poor fellow,' he said, 'you are sadly wounded; get off the field as swiftly as possible;' so saying, he took some herbs from his pocket, and applying them to the wound, staunched the blood; then, taking me by the arm, he moved onwards a few paces by my side, as though to protect me from further injury—the road in this direction being clear of the Royalists, who were murdering my comrades right and left at the other end of the field. I thanked the noble Captain—whose eyes gleamed with pleasure on observing the uncaptured standard—and proceeded on my way in safety. Having ascended an eminence, I turned to look on the bloody plain. There stood Captain Paton, as I had left him, leaning on his sword, and gazing on the fearful scene around him, apparently overwhelmed with grief. General Hamilton, with a party of officers, was advancing towards him. I looked again. They were slowly quitting the field. And I continued my solitary flight."
Mrs. Telford, at the close of her son's narrative, threw her arms around his neck, and wept aloud. "My poor Thomas," she exclaimed, "grateful should I be to the Lord, who hath spared you to return this day to your home; but, oh! when I think on my noble Willie a captive in the hands of these cruel, blood-thirsty men, my heart feels like to burst with its load of sorrow; and, yet, what can I do to save him?"
"Mother," said Jeanie Irving, "for such you have been to me, do not despair. A voice whispers in my heart that Willie will soon be free—that he will yet live to bless and comfort us all. Do not give way to grief, but trust in God, who, I feel assured, will grant the wishes of our hearts in this matter."
"The widow—for such Mrs. Telford was—soothed and comforted by the earnest assurances of the kind-hearted and hopeful maiden, embraced her warmly, and blessed her for her dutiful resignation to the will of Providence. But a high and noble purpose had filled the loving heart of the simple Scottish girl; and it was the determination to free her lover that caused her eye to sparkle, and her cheek to burn, with the sweet anticipations of hope, as she dwelt on the triumph of obtaining her lover's pardon, even should she kneel at the feet of the Duke of Monmouth to obtain it. Accordingly, at an early hour on the following morning, when Mrs. Telford and her son were locked in the arms of slumber, Jeanie Irving, acting on a previously adopted resolution, stole gently from her couch and dressed herself hastily; then, kissing Mrs. Telford silently on the forehead, she knelt down and prayed fervently for guidance and protection during her absence; and, snatching a small bundle of necessaries prepared over-night for her journey, and placing a letter—informing Mrs. Telford of the step she was about to take—on the table, she noiselessly opened the door, stood for one moment, while her lips moved as if she was engaged in mental prayer, shut it slowly, and departed. Having been informed by Thomas Telford that the prisoners were to be taken to Edinburgh, thither Jeanie determined to proceed; but on arriving at Linlithgow, she heard no tidings of their having passed that way. Fearful lest some change had been made regarding their destination,