Part 21

At mention of the name, Lucy, who had been weeping passionately on her mother's shoulder, raised her head, a ray of hope animated her countenance, and she watched the young officer's movements in breathless anxiety--William Crosbie also looked disturbed and anxious. With a swaggering gait and careless mien, young Musgrave approached the prisoner, and taking him by the arm, led him some little distance apart, when he addressed him as follows:--"I have vainly endeavoured to procure your pardon. I vowed to save you; and my oath must be kept. Therefore listen to me. Accept this purse; you may stand in need of money, and when I say aloud farewell! dart off as quickly as you can in the direction of Crichup Linn. The darkness will favour your escape, and I will, if necessary, prevent the soldiers from following, until you are beyond their reach. Fear not for Lucy! I will protect her as though she were mine own sister. God bless you--farewell!" Scarcely had the word escaped Lieutenant Musgrave's lips, ere William Crosbie was speeding along the plain towards Crichup Linn; and so thoroughly was the whole party overwhelmed with astonishment at this unlooked-for proceeding on the part of the prisoner, that ere the soldiers could mount their horses and set off in pursuit, he was already lost in the gloom. With a cry of thankfulness Lucy fell down on her knees; but not to man she knelt. She was breathing a prayer of gratitude to Heaven for her lover's safety.

"Traitor!" shouted Claverhouse, his eyes sparkling with fury, "how dare you do this? By heavens! you shall answer for it, and that presently."

"When and where you please," said Lieutenant Musgrave haughtily; "you have yourself to blame for what I have done. I begged the young man's life. I told you this good woman and her daughter had sheltered me when wounded, and that William Crosbie had prevented my blood being shed by his companions. In return, I vowed I would protect him if ever he fell into your hands. You refused to listen to my petition. It was the first request I had ever made, and I told you it should be the last; but you scorned my entreaties, and now you have reaped the fruits of your cruel refusal. Disgusted by your cold-blooded murders,----"

"Ha! this insolence to your commanding officer? Consider yourself under arrest! Captain Lennox, relieve Lieutenant Musgrave of his sword."

"Never!" said young Musgrave; "here I resign my commission, and for ever abandon a cause characterised only by cruelty and oppression."

With these words he drew his sword from its sheath, and breaking it across his knee, threw the pieces on the ground. Then taking Mrs. Armstrong by the hand, he led her and Lucy from the spot. Claverhouse remained motionless with rage on beholding himself deprived of his revenge; while Sir Robert Grierson exclaimed with a shrug of his shoulders--"We are well rid of the fellow. He has been too long in the society of these psalm-singing rascals not to have imbibed some of their notions. Let him go. He is not fit for the society of loyal-hearted subjects like ourselves; his place is the conventicle; there he will have whining and praying enough." Unwilling to exhibit any further annoyance before his soldiers, Ciaverhouse joined in the laugh occasioned by this speech of Sir Robert's, and after issuing a command to one of his men to follow in the direction of the dragoons and ascertain whether they had discovered any traces of the fugitive, he set out on his return to Dumfries. Favoured by the darkness which now enveloped the earth like a mantle, William Crosbie succeeded in baffling the dragoons. More than once their bullets whistled close past his ears, and their voices sounded ominously near, still he held on his way; and at length, when nearly exhausted, he gained the entrance to Crichup Linn. With a shout of triumph, which sounded in the ears of his pursuers like the yell of a demon, William Crosbie darted into its friendly shades; and, as he sped along its narrow path, he heard with unmingled pleasure the voices of the dragoons--who, unwilling to encounter the evil spirits said to infest the linn, had turned back from the pursuit--grow faint in the distance. The first act of the grateful Covenanter, on reaching a place of safety, was to fall on his knees and return thanks to God for his deliverance. This done, he proceeded, so far as the increasing darkness would permit, to examine the nature of the place he had chosen as a refuge against his enemies. For never before had he dared to venture within the haunted precincts of Crichup Linn.

The shades of night lent a still deeper gloom to the savage character of the linn; and as William Crosbie gazed on the huge rocks, which seemed from their tottering appearance as though the slightest touch would dislodge them, and listened to the noise of the ceaseless cascades, as they fell from rock to rock, a feeling of wonder, not unmixed with awe, took possession of his breast. As he stood beneath the shade of a beetling crag, his eyes striving to penetrate the darkness below, all the strange tales he had heard told around the cottager's ingle-nook regarding the linn, rose up, unbidden guests, in his imagination. He remembered, with cold shudderings, the weird dance described by his uncle as having been seen by him when forced, from adverse circumstances, to seek refuge among its caves; and how the precise spot where he beheld the midnight revelry of the unearthly crew was still familiarly known as the "Elf's Kirk,"[#] and the strange lights frequently seen leaping from crag to crag by those whom necessity had forced to be unwilling spectators of the unnatural flame. All these and more did fancy conjure up, like spectral demons, to haunt him with their presence, until at length, excited beyond measure at their remembrance and the thought of spending an entire night in a place so infested with horrors, William Crosbie wrought himself up to believe that he too was about to become the victim of supernatural agency. The air seemed filled with wild unearthly sounds. The blasted trees which burst forth from the rocks above his head appeared like so many hideous forms pointing at him with warning gestures from amid the gloom, while the abyss beneath was peopled with gigantic beings, who, as they issued forth from the portals of their unhallowed mansion, regarded him with malignant eyes, and tossed their menacing arms aloft in the air, as though invoking the elements to lash themselves into fury and descend on the doomed head of him who had thus dared to invade their dominions. As if in obedience to their call, a loud peal of thunder suddenly broke overhead, announcing an approaching storm. Another and another succeeded, and the blue electric fluid, fraught with death and disaster, quivered in the air like the sword of Divine wrath suspended over a guilty world. William Crosbie stood trembling and aghast as the storm, which had now reached the climax of its fury, rolled along the sky in terrible majesty. Crash followed crash with incredible velocity, while the forked lightning darted through the gloom like some heavenly messenger sent from the realms of bliss on an errand of mercy to the pit of woe. Appalled at the scene, the terror-stricken Covenanter, in acknowledgment of the Almighty's power to preserve him in this awful hour, fell on his knees amid the fierce strife of the elements, and raised his right arm on high as though appealing for protection against the horrors that surrounded him. To his inexpressible relief, the storm-cloud, having spent its fury, at length passed over the linn. The flashes of lightning became less frequent; the peals of thunder waxed fainter and fainter, and then died away in broken murmurs in the distance.

[#] Crichup Linn, _vide_ Fordyce's Beauties at Scotland, vol. 2, page 312.

Under cover of a protecting rock, William Crosbie passed, what seemed to his terror-struck imagination, an eternal night; and, as soon as the early beams of the rising sun proclaimed the presence of morning, he forsook his hard couch and made for the nearest outlet; determined rather to face Claverhouse and all his host, than be doomed again to encounter the horrors of a night spent in Crichup Linn. While threading his way through the tangled brushwood, which then almost obscured the entrance to the linn, William Crosbie was startled on observing several persons running in his direction. Apprehensive of danger, he screened his person behind some bushes, in order that he might ascertain their purpose ere discovering himself to them. On they came, panting and breathless, evidently making for the linn. On their nearer approach, William Crosbie discovered them to be friends of his own, and staunch adherents of the Covenanting party. He then came forth from his place of concealment, and addressed them by their names.

"Back! back!" they cried with one voice, "he is coming! he is coming!"

"Who is coming?"

"Claverhouse! do you not see him yonder?"

William Crosbie turned his eyes in the indicated direction, and there he beheld the dreaded persecutor, mounted on a splendid black charger, galloping furiously towards them, followed by his dragoons.

"Come back with us!" said one of the new-comers, addressing William Crosbie, "we know the way to the caves; there we shall be safe."

"You need not fear pursuit now!" said one of his companions, "not even the evil spirit, were he mounted on horse-back, would dare to follow us hither!"

As he spoke, a crashing of the boughs behind them caused them to start and look back, when to their unutterable horror they beheld their terrible enemy dashing through amidst the trees. William Crosbie stood transfixed at the sight. He had neither power to move nor speak, while Claverhouse, with dishevelled locks and flashing eyes, rode towards him, with his sword uplifted in the air as if to hew him down.

"Have you a mind to be killed that you stand there while the arch-fiend himself is within a few paces of you?" said one of the men, and seizing William Crosbie by the arm he dragged him onwards to the verge of the precipice. "Down, down!" he cried, "we will cheat him yet!" and with these words the man, still holding young Crosbie by the hand, slid down among the rocks, whither his companions had gone before. "He has lost his prey; he dare not follow us."

The speaker was interrupted by a cry of horror proceeding from his companions. He looked up, and beheld the horse with its rider bounding over the chasm. In his eager haste to capture the men, Claverhouse did not perceive the danger which lay in his path, until too late to retreat; so clapping spurs to his steed, which equalled in spirit its fiery master, he urged it to the leap. His horse cleared the chasm at a single bound, and landed its rider safe on the opposite side. The noble animal fared not so well; one of its legs was broken in the effort; and from his seat in the face of the rock William Crosbie beheld with admiration the feat achieved by the gallant charger, and witnessed with sorrow its death inflicted by the hands of his master. The dragoons on foot now rushed into the linn, and discharged their muskets down the abyss, thereby hoping to kill or wound some of the men who had taken refuge there. But their bullets glanced harmlessly off the rocks; and at length, wearied with their futile attempts to capture the Covenanters, they departed, venting maledictions on all such rebels. For the space of four days and nights did William Crosbie and his companions remained concealed in Crichup Linn. Their food was regularly supplied by a shepherd boy, who always managed to visit them unseen, and to furnish them with information regarding the movements of the dragoons.

On the morning of the fifth day he brought the welcome tidings that the soldiers, wearied of guarding the entrance to the linn, had abandoned their post, and gone off in search of a more promising expedition. This was indeed joyful news to the oppressed hearts of the Covenanters; and when the shades of evening rendered their escape easy, they abandoned their hiding-places, and set out for their respective habitations. William Crosbie at once directed his steps towards Mrs. Armstrong's cottage; the door of which was opened by Lucy in person. The meeting of the lovers, after the fearful scene through which they had so lately passed, may be better imagined than described. Suffice it to say that Lucy clung to her lover's neck, and cried and laughed alternately; while William Crosbie kissed the tears away, and whispered sweet words of affection, which soon restored the rose to Lucy's cheek. During this affecting scene, Mrs. Armstrong stood a little apart; her eyes were filled with tears, and her lips moved as though engaged in mental prayer. It was so. Her tears were to the memory of her husband and son; while her prayer was for the continued happiness of those who had, through the providence of God, been permitted to taste of joy after having drunk so deeply of the cup of affliction. Lucy listened in breathless awe as William Crosbie recounted the horrors he had experienced during his solitary vigil in Crichup Linn; and in her turn she related all that had befallen her since that fearful evening, dwelling at considerable length on the more than brotherly kindness of Lieutenant Musgrave, who had done everything in his power to render her happy during the absence of her lover. "And what do you think, William?" she said at the conclusion of her recital, "he has offered us all a home in Cumberland; and my mother, to whom this part of the country has now became unbearable, has decided upon accepting his kind offer, so it only remains for you to consent to accompany us."

The answer her lover gave is not recorded; but that it was in the affirmative may be gathered from the fact that in the course of a few days Mrs. Armstrong, her family and her future son-in-law, set out on their journey to another home. As the humble vehicle, which bore the travellers, proceeded on its way, the eyes of Lucy, beaming with love and happiness, were fixed on the blue hills of Cumberland, as they rose up before her in yet distant beauty, while the tear-stained eyes of the widow wandered back to the lowly cottage, which never seemed so dear to her as at that instant when she was leaving it for ever. Youth was looking hopefully to the future--age was ruminating sadly on the past.

On their arrival at their destination, they found Mr., no longer Lieutenant, Musgrave in waiting to receive them; who, taking Mrs. Armstrong by the hand, led her towards a lovely little cottage embowered in woodbine and roses.

"This," he said, "is your home; and yonder," pointing as he spoke to a smiling farm-house peeping out from amongst some venerable poplar-trees, "stands the future residence of William and Lucy."

"O, sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Armstrong with streaming eyes, "your kindness----"

"Nay, thank not me!" he replied with a smile, "it is the gift----"

"Of a grateful mother," said a soft womanly voice, and the speaker, a mild-benevolent looking lady--whom Mr. Musgrave speedily introduced as his mother--came forth from the cottage, and, with deep emotion, welcomed the Scottish Covenanters to their English home.

At her bridal, which took place shortly after her arrival in Cumberland, Lucy looked more than usually pretty in her simple white muslin dress; while her neck was adorned with the gold chain given to her lover by the grateful benefactor, to whom, they were proud to say, they owed all their present happiness. Long and happily did William Crosbie and his Lucy live on the shores of Cumberland; and even Mrs. Armstrong forgot, for a while, the sorrows of the past, as she dandled her fair-haired grandchildren on her knee. Some of the descendants of this worthy family are still to be found on the banks of the Solway; and in their possession may be seen the massive gold chain, which is carefully treasured up by them in remembrance of the sufferings their forefathers were called upon to endure in the dark and dismal days of persecution.

Still is the story of Claverhouse's daring leap related in the parish of Closeburn; and the natural chair in which the young shoemaker sat during his brief sojourn in Crichup Linn is pointed out to the curious visitor, as

THE SUTOR'S SEAT.