hers used to draw breath thick if ever they heard him named. He
was out wi' the Hielandmen in Montrose's time; and again he was in the
hills wi' Glencairn in the saxteen hundred and fifty-twa; and sae when
King Charles the Second came in, wha was in sic favour as the Laird of
Redgauntlet? He was knighted at Lonon court, wi' the King's ain sword;
and being a redhot prelatist, he came down here, rampauging like a lion,
with commissions of lieutenancy (and of lunacy, for what I ken), to put
down a' the Whigs and Covenanters in the country. Wild wark they made of
it; for the Whigs were as dour as the Cavaliers were fierce, and it was
which should first tire the other. Redgauntlet was aye for the strong
hand; and his name is kend as wide in the country as Claverhouse's or
Tam Dalyell's. Glen, nor dargle, nor mountain, nor cave, could hide the
puir hill-folk when Redgauntlet was out with bugle and bloodhound after
them, as if they had been sae mony deer. And troth when they fand them,
they didna mak muckle mair ceremony than a Hielandman wi' a
roebuck--It was just, "Will ye tak the test?"--if not, "Make
ready--present--fire!"--and there lay the recusant.

Far and wide was Sir Robert hated and feared. Men thought he had a
direct compact with Satan--that he was proof against steel--and that
bullets happed aff his buff-coat like hailstanes from a hearth--that he
had a mear that would turn a hare on the side of Carrifragawns[6]--and
muckle to the same purpose, of whilk mair anon. The best blessing they
wared on him was, "Deil scowp wi' Redgauntlet!" He wasna a bad maister
to his ain folk, though, and was weel aneugh liked by his tenants; and
as for the lackies and troopers that rade out wi' him to the
persecutions, as the Whigs caa'd those killing times, they wad hae
drunken themsells blind to his health at ony time.

Now you are to ken that my gudesire lived on Redgauntlet's grund--they
ca' the place Primrose-Knowe. We had lived on the grund, and under the
Redgauntlets, since the riding days, and lang before. It was a pleasant
bit; and I think the air is callerer and fresher there than ony where
else in the country. It's a' deserted now; and I sat on the broken
door-cheek three days since, and was glad I couldna see the plight the
place was in; but that's a' wide o' the mark. There dwelt my gudesire,
Steenie Steenson, a rambling, rattling chiel he had been in his young
days, and could play weel on the pipes; he was famous at "Ho