uddenly we heard strangely near us the jangling of the accoutrements of
the troopers and the sound of voices.

"Curse the Whig's mist, it has come on again! We canna steer for it!"
cried a voice so near that the hillmen stood closer in their ranks, and
my own heart leaped till I heard it beat irregularly within me.

We marked the sharp _clip clip_ as the shod horses struck the stones
with their feet. Now and then a man would clatter over his steed's head
as the poor beast bogged or stumbled.

Looking over between the hazel trees, I could faintly discern the steel
caps of the troopers through the gloom, as they wound in single file
between us and the water-side. It was but a scouting party, for in a
moment we heard the trumpet blow from the main body, which had kept the
road that winds down to the old ford, over the Black Water on the way
from Kirkcudbright to New Galloway and Kenmuir.

In a little the sounds came fainter on our ears, and the swing and
trample of the hoofs grew so far away that we could not hear them any
more.

But the great cloud of people stood for long time still, no man daring
to move. It struck me as strange that in that concourse of shepherds not
so much as a dog barked. In a moment I saw the reason. Each herd was
sitting on the grass with his dog's head in his lap, wrapped in his
plaid. Then came the scattering of the great meeting. Such were the
chances of our life at that dark time, when brother might part from
brother and meet no more. And when a father might go out to look the
lambs, and be found by his daughter fallen on his face on the heather by
the sheep ree, with that on his breast that was not bonny to see when
they turned him over. As for me I went home with Maisie Lennox and her
friend the young lass of Glen Vernock, as was indeed my plain duty. We
walked side by side in silence, for we had great thoughts within us of
Cameron and Peden, and of the Blue Banner of the Covenant that was not
yet wholly put down.

CHAPTER XXIII.

BIRSAY THE COBBLER.

So many of the wanderers abode at the Duchrae that Maisie Lennox was
much cumbered with serving; yet in her quiet sedate way she would often
take a word with me in the bygoing, as if to let me feel that I was not
lonely or forgotten. And it cheered me much to find that I was not
despised, because I was (as yet) no great fighting man of many inches or
noble make like my brother Sandy. Also I loved women's converse, having
been