hich filled them to the
overflow. The tears ran down and fell upon our horses' necks. "FOR
CHRIST'S CROWN AND COVENANT," ran the legend. Then we gathered ourselves
closer about the battle-flag, for which we had come out to die. As one
man we drew our swords, nor did Cameron now gainsay us--and lifting them
high up, till the sun glinted bonnily upon them, we sang our solemn
banding song. I never felt my heart so high or heaven so near, not even
at the great field-preaching by the water of Dee, when I sat by the side
of Maisie Lennox. Even thus we sang,

"God is our refuge and our strength,
In straits a present aid;
Therefore, although the earth remove,
We will not be afraid."

Then we rode out of Sanquhar town, for once gallantly enough, having
solemnly set ourselves to face the King in open field--we that were but
twenty men against three kingdoms. Well we knew that we should be put
down, but we knew also that so long as there were a score of men in
Scotland, to do as we had done that day, the cause and the flag would
never be wholly put down.

So the douce burghers of Sanquhar watched us ride away, our swords
gleaming naked because we had appealed to the sword, and were prepared
to perish by the sword, as the word is. Also our blue banner of the
Covenant waved bravely over our heads, in token of our dependence on
Jehovah, the God of battles.

And as we rode was it not I, William Gordon of Earlstoun, who carried
the banner-staff, for Richard Cameron had given it into my hands. So I
had not lived in vain, and Sandy would never again bid me sew
bairn-clouts, and bide at home among the women. I wished my father had
been alive to see me.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE LAST CHARGE AT AYRSMOSS.

The morning of the twenty-second of July dawned solemnly clear. It
promised to be a day of slumberous heat, for the haze lay long in the
hollows, hesitating to disappear, and there was the brooding of thunder
in the air. We that were of Cameron's little company found ourselves in
a wild place on the moors. Most of our Galloway men had betaken
themselves home, and they that had come out of Lanarkshire and Ayr were
the greater part of the scanty company. The name of the place where we
sojourned was Ayrsmoss. We had lain sleepless and anxious all night,
with watchers posted about among the moss-hags. Richard Cameron spoke
often to us, and told us that the matter had at last come to the narrow
and bitter pass.