no ill by you-I only wished to shew you that I know so much of this person's affairs, that I might be safely intrusted with the rest. Proceed, if you please, in your narrative." "There is a strange command in your voice," said the blind woman, "though its tones are sweet-I have little mair to say. The Stuarts hae been dethroned, and William and Mary reign in their stead; but nae mair word of the Covenant than if it were a dead letter. They hae ta'en the indulged clergy, and an Erastian General Assembly of the ance pure and triumphant Kirk of Scotland, even into their very arms and bosoms. Our faithfu' champions o' the testimony agree e'en waur wi' this than wi' the open tyranny and apostasy of the persecuting times; for souls are hardened and deadened, and the mouths of fasting multitudes are crammed wi' fizenless bran instead of the sweet word in season; and mony a hungry, starving creature, when he sits down on a Sunday forenoon to get something that might warm him to the great work, has a dry clatter o' morality driven about his lugs, and-" "In short," said Morton, desirous to stop a discussion which the good old woman, as enthusiastically attached to her religious profession as to the duties of humanity, might probably have indulged longer—“ In short, you are not disposed to acquiesce in this new government, and Burley is of the same opinion ?" "Many of our brethren, sir, are of belief we fought for the Covenant, and fasted, and prayed, and suffered for that grand national league, and now we are like neither to see nor hear tell of that which we suffered, and fought, and fasted, and prayed for.-And anes it was thought something might be made by bringing back the auld family on a new bargain and a new bottom; as, after a', when King James went awa', I understand the great quarrel of the English against him was in behalf of seven unhallowed prelates; and sae, though ae part of our people were free to join wi' the present model, and levied an armed regim ent under the Yerl of Angus, yet our honest friend, and others of purity of doctrine and freedom of conscience, were determined to hear the breath o' the Jacobites before they took part again them, fearing to fa' to the ground like a wall built with unslacked mortar, or from sitting between twa stools." "They chose an odd quarter," said Morton, “from which to expect freedom of conscience and purity of doctrine." "O, dear sir! the natural day-spring rises in the east, but the spiritual day-spring may rise in the north, for what we blinded mortals ken." "And Burley went to the north to seek it?" "Truly, ay, sir; and he saw Claver'se himsel, that they ca' Dundee now." "The devil he did!" exclaimed Morton; "I would have sworn that meeting would have been the last of one of their lives." "Na, na, sir; in troubled times, as I understand, there's sudden changes-Montgomery, and Ferguson, and mony ane mair, that were King James's greatest faes, are on his side now-Claver'se spake our friend fair, and sent him to consult with Lord Evandale. But then there was a break off, for Lord Evandale wadna look at, hear, or speak wi' him; and now he's anes wud, and aye waur, and roars for revenge again Lord Evandale, and will hear nought of ony thing but burn and slay-and O thae starts o' passion! they unsettle his mind, and gie the Enemy sair advantages." "The enemy?" said Morton ; "What enemy ?" "What enemy? Are ye acquainted familiarly wi' John Balfour o' Burley, and dinna ken that he has had sair and frequent combats to sustain against the Evil One? Did ye ever see him alone but the Bible was in his hand, and the drawn sword on his knee? Did ye ever sleep in the same room wi' him, and hear him strive in his dreams with the delusions of Satan? O, ye ken little o' him, if ye have seen him only in fair day-light, for nae man can put the face upon his doleful visits and strifes that he can do. I hae seen him, after sic a strife of agony, tremble that an infant might hae held him, while the hair on his brow was drapping as fast as ever my puir thatched roof did in a heavy rain." As she spoke, Morton began to recollect the appearance of Burley during his sleep in the hay-loft at Milnwood, the report of Cuddie that his senses had become impaired, and some whispers current among the Cameronians, who boasted frequently of Burley's soul exercises, and his strifes with the foul fiend; which several circumstances led him to conclude that this man himself was a victim to these delusions, though his mind, naturally acute and forcible, not only disguised his superstition from those in whose opinion it might have discredited his judgment, but, by exerting such a force as is said to be proper to those afflicted with epilepsy, could postpone the fits which it occasioned until he was either freed from superintendance, or surrounded by such as held him more highly on account of these visitations. It was natural to suppose, and could easily be inferred from the narrative of Mrs Maclure, that disappointed ambition, wrecked hopes, and the downfall of the party which he had served with such desperate fidelity, were likely to aggravate enthusiasm into temporary insanity. It was, indeed, no uncommon circumstance, in these singular times, that men like Sir Harry Vane, Harrison, Overton, and others, themselves slaves to the wildest and most enthusiastic dreams, could, when mingling with the world, conduct themselves, not only with good sense in difficulties, and courage in dangers, but with the most acute sagacity and determined valour. The subsequent part of Mrs Maclure's information confirmed Morton in these impressions. "In the grey of the morning," she said, "my little Peggy sall shew ye the gate to him before the sodgers are up. But ye maun let his hour of danger, as he ca's it, be ower, afore ye venture on him in his place of refuge. Peggy will tell ye when to venture in. She kens his ways weel, for whiles she carries him some little helps that he canna do without to sustain life." "And in what retreat then," said Morton, “has this unfortunate person found refuge ?" "An awsome place," answered the blind woman, 66 as ever living creature took refuge in. They ca' it the Black Linn of Linklater-it's a doleful place; but he loves it abune a' others, because he has sae often been in safe hiding there; and it's my belief he prefers it to a tapestried chamber and a down bed. But ye'll see't. I hae seen it mysel mony a day syne. I was a daft hempie lassie then, and little thought what was to come o't.-Wad ye chuse ony thing, sir, ere ye betake yoursel to your rest, for ye maun stir wi' the first dawn o' the grey light?" "Nothing more, my good mother," said Morton ; and they parted for the evening. Morton recommended himself to Heaven, threw himself on the bed, heard, between sleeping and waking, the trampling of the dragoon horses at the riders' return from their patrol, and then slept soundly after such painful agitation. CHAPTER XXX. The darksome cave they enter, where they found SPENSER. As the morning began to appear on the mountains, a gentle knock was heard at the door of the humble apartment in which Morton slept, and a girlish treble voice asked him from without, " If he wad please gang to the Linn or the folk raise ?" He arose upon the invitation, and, dressing himself hastily, went forth and joined his little guide. The mountain maid tript lightly before him, through the grey haze, over hill and moor. It was a wild and varied walk, unmarked by any regular or distinguishable track, and keeping, upon the whole, the direction of the ascent of the brook, though without tracing its windings. The landscape, as they advanced, turned waster and more wild, until nothing but heath and rock encumbered the side of the valley. "Is the place still distant ?" said Morton. "Nearly a mile off," answered the girl. be there belive." "We'll "And do you often go this wild journey, my little maid ?" "When grannie sends me wi' milk and meal to the Linn," answered the child. "And are you not afraid to travel so wild a road alone ?" "Hout na, sir," replied the guide; "nae living creature wad touch sic a bit thing as I am, and grannie says |