the history o' yer
ain country--whilk I misdoot--ye would ken that the Parliaments o' baith
Scotland an' England have laid it doon, in declaration and in practice,
that resistance to the exercise o' arbitrary power is _lawfu'_,
therefore resistance to Chairles and you, his shameless flunkeys, is nae
mair rebellion than it's rebellion in a cat to flee in the face o' a
bull-doug that wants to worry her kittens. Against the tyrant that has
abused his trust, an' upset oor constitution, an' broken a' the laws o'
God and man, I count it to be my bounden duty to fecht wi' swurd an' lip
as lang's I hae an airm to strike an' a tongue to wag. Noo, ye may dae
yer warst!"

At a signal the executioner promptly fitted the boot to the bold man's
right leg.

Black's look of indignant defiance passed away, and was replaced by an
expression of humility that, strangely enough, seemed rather to
intensify than diminish his air of fixed resolve. While the instrument
of torture was being arranged he turned his face to the Bishop of
Galloway, who sat beside Lauderdale silently and sternly awaiting the
result, and with an almost cheerful air and quiet voice said--

"God has, for His ain wise ends, made the heart o' the puir man that has
just left us tender, an' He's made mine teuch, but tak' notice, thou
wolf in sheep's clothing, that it's no upon its teuchness but upon the
speerit o' the Lord that I depend for grace to withstand on this evil
day."

"Strike!" said the Duke, in a low stern voice.

The mallet fell; the wedge compressed the strong limb, and Andrew
compressed his lips.

"Again!"

A second time the mallet fell, but no sign did the unhappy man give of
the pain which instantly began to shoot through the limb. After a few
more blows the Duke stayed the process and reiterated his questions, but
Black took no notice of him whatever. Large beads of sweat broke out on
his brow. These were the only visible signs of suffering, unless we
except the deathly pallor of his face.

"Again!" said the merciless judge.

The executioner obeyed, but the blow had been barely delivered when a
loud snap was heard, and the tortured man experienced instant relief.
Jock Bruce's little device had been successful, the instrument of
torture was broken!

"Thanks be to Thy name, O God, for grace to help me thus far," said
Black in a quiet tone.

"Fix on the other boot," cried Lauderdale savagely, for the constancy as
well as the humility of