before the Privy Council; I think they should
relieve me of a share of this disgusting drudgery.--Let Mr Morton be
civilly used, and see that the men look well after their horses; and let
my groom wash Wild-blood's shoulder with some vinegar, the saddle has
touched him a little."

All these various orders,--for life and death, the securing of his
prisoners, and the washing his charger's shoulder,--were given in the
same unmoved and equable voice, of which no accent or tone intimated that
the speaker considered one direction as of more importance than another.

The Cameronians, so lately about to be the willing agents of a bloody
execution, were now themselves to undergo it. They seemed prepared alike
for either extremity, nor did any of them show the least sign of fear,
when ordered to leave the room for the purpose of meeting instant death.
Their severe enthusiasm sustained them in that dreadful moment, and they
departed with a firm look and in silence, excepting that one of them, as
he left the apartment, looked Claverhouse full in the face, and
pronounced, with a stern and steady voice,--"Mischief shall haunt the
violent man!" to which Grahame only answered by a smile of contempt.

They had no sooner left the room than Claverhouse applied himself to some
food, which one or two of his party had hastily provided, and invited
Morton to follow his example, observing, it had been a busy day for them
both. Morton declined eating; for the sudden change of circumstances--the
transition from the verge of the grave to a prospect of life, had
occasioned a dizzy revulsion in his whole system. But the same confused
sensation was accompanied by a burning thirst, and he expressed his wish
to drink.

"I will pledge you, with all my heart," said Claverhouse; "for here is a
black jack full of ale, and good it must be, if there be good in the
country, for the whigs never miss to find it out.--My service to you, Mr
Morton," he said, filling one horn of ale for himself, and handing
another to his prisoner.

Morton raised it to his head, and was just about to drink, when the
discharge of carabines beneath the window, followed by a deep and hollow
groan, repeated twice or thrice, and more faint at each interval,
announced the fate of the three men who had just left them. Morton
shuddered, and set down the untasted cup.

"You are but young in these matters, Mr Morton," said Claverhouse, after
he had very composedly finished his draug