r you pass that way. It
is just on that tongue of land where the Rig Burn meets the Esk Water
and close by the house of Westerhall. There, where the Great Hill of
Stennies Water pushes down a spur to the water-side, was our halting
place. Here, as soon as we alighted down, Westerhall passed sentence on
Andrew Herries, saying that he had due authority from the Council as
King's Justicer for the parts about the Esk and Annan.

Claverhouse was noways keen for the lad's shooting, and strove to put
him off. Yet he was not over-earnest in the matter, for (as he often
said) to John Graham a dead Whig was always greatly better than a
living.

But for all that, he waved his hand and cried aloud:

"The blood of this poor man, Westerha', be upon you. I am free from it."

Nevertheless, since Westerhall had given the sentence and for example's
sake it could not be departed from, Claverhouse ordered a Highland
gentleman, the captain of a free company that was traversing the country
with him, to shoot the lad and get it over. But Donald Dhu cocked his
bonnet till the eagle's feather in it stood erect, and in high dudgeon
drew off his clansmen.

"Hursel cam' frae the Heelants to fecht men, and no to be pluff-pluffin'
poother at poor lads that are no lang frae the mither's milk."

This was the statement of Donald Dhu, and I that had no love for
Highlandmen, nor any cause to love them, remembering the hand they made
of my father's house of Earlstoun, could have cheered him where I stood.
But I remembered the errand I was on, and for my mother's sake forbore.

"What!" cried Westerhall, glowering at him and riding up close, as if to
strike him, "would you disobey the General's orders!"

"Donald Dhu has no General but his King," cried the bold Highlandman.
"Call up your row-footed messans, and bid them do your nain dirty work."

Then Claverhouse, who of all things loved not to be outfaced, ordered
him peremptorily to obey.

"Indeed, John Graham, hursel will fecht ye first--you and a' your
troop."

Then seeing that Clavers was about to raise his hand in command, as
though to take him unawares--

"Claymores!" suddenly cried Donald Dhu, and behind him fifty Highland
brands flashed in air as the wild clansmen threw back their plaids to
clear the sword-arm.

"This I shall report to the Privy Council," said Clavers very gravely,
turning on him a black and angry countenance.

But the brave Highlander was noways affected.

"Hooch