the old psalm-singing heretic who lives here from his
knees," said one of the troopers.

"Ay, let us stir him up," said the sergeant who had the command of the
party; "he is an old offender, and I don't see we can make a better
night's work than drag him along, bag and baggage, to the captain. I
have heard as how it was he that betrayed our commander's kinsman, the
gallant Montrose."

"Hark! hark!--softly! softly!" said another, "let us dismount--hear how
the nasal drawl of the conventicle moans through the air! My horse
pricks his ears at the sound already. We shall catch them in the act."

Eight of the party dismounted, and, having given their horses in charge
to four of their comrades, who remained behind, walked on tiptoe to the
door of the cottage. They heard the words given and sung--

"When cruel men against us rose
To make of us their prey!"

"Why, they are singing treason," said one of the troopers. "What more do
we need?"

The sergeant placed his forefinger on his lips, and for about ten
minutes they continued to listen. The song of praise ceased, and a
person commenced to read a chapter. They heard him also expound to his
hearers as he read.

"It is enough," said the sergeant; and, placing their shoulders against
the door, it was burst open. "You are our prisoners!" exclaimed the
troopers, each man grasping a sword in his right hand, and a pistol in
the left.

"It is the will of Heaven!" said the Rev. Mr. Duncan; for it was he
who had been reading and expounding the Scriptures; "but, if ye stretch
forth your hands against a hair o' our heads, HE, without whom a sparrow
cannot fall to the ground, shall remember it against ye at the great day
o' reckoning, when the trooper will be stripped of his armour, and his
right hand shall be a witness against him!"

The soldiers burst into a laugh of derision. "No more of your homily,
reverend oracle," said the sergeant; "I have an excellent recipe for
short sermons here; utter another word and you shall have it!" The
troopers laughed again, and the sergeant, as he spoke, held his pistol
in the face of the preacher.

Besides the clergyman, there were in the room old John Brydone, his son
Daniel, and Mary.

"Well, old greybeard," said the sergeant, addressing John, "you have
been reported as a dangerous and disaffected Presbyterian knave, as
we find you to be; you are also accused of being a harbourer and an
accomplice of the preachers of sedition;