A body of soldiers now ranged through our part of the country, seeking out Covenanters who had taken any part in the late rising, and perpetrating all such deeds of cruelty as their evil thoughts could devise. Some were tortured for aiding their friends to escape. Life and property were at the mercy of these ruthless invaders.

Steenie was obliged to remain in hiding. Sometimes, when I knew where he was, I stole out to him in the gloaming. Seated on the same rock, with my hand in his, I passed an hour or more with him; but never did I do so without fearing it might be the last time. In the long summer evenings I sometimes stayed and chatted till a late hour, and, after a bit of forgetfulness, it did seem almost like old times. One of those evenings I have special cause to remember. The air was delightfully fresh, and fragrant with the scent of summer blossoms. The wield sang its song in the woods anent us; the owl hooted on the cliff; and the wee, timid hare, startled by our footsteps on the dry twigs, ran across our path. For the time we dropped all thoughts of fear. We were at the back of our own cottage, in the thicket where in our childhood we had often played. The moonlight glinted through it as of yore, and a bit to the north sang the same busy, babbling brook. Oh, that was an evening long to be remembered!

"One can almost forget that he is a hunted fugitive in a place and a time like this," said Steenie.

"Yes, Steenie," I answered, "would to God we were clear of the great trouble which we this evening have been able to put from our minds."

While I was yet speaking the sound of horses' feet was borne to our ears on the still night air.

"Go home quickly, Effie," said Steenie, "and I'll not stop till I am hidden behind the black crags."

As I entered the house I found mother sitting with wee Jamie, for he was aye at our house since father was led away. Mother saw something was amiss, but she questioned only by look.

"The troopers," I said.

"Where is Steenie?"

"Well on to a place of safety by this time."

"God protect him!" she murmured.

The soldiers soon surrounded our house. Three of them entered and searched it. We had hurried the bairn to bed and bidden him turn his face to the wall, and on no account show that he was awake, rightly thinking they would not be likely to wake him. Mother and I suffered much from their insolence, and they bore away with them whatever they chose to take, otherwise we came to no harm.

After this Steenie was almost lost to us for a long time. It was very seldom he could be found in the places where he was wont to be concealed, so diligent was the search for those who had fought at Rullion Green.

Sometimes we saw him at conventicles. These meetings were then held in unfrequented places, and often under the cover of darkness. Precious was the divine message to our long-waiting souls, and our thoughts were uplifted by the power of the truth. But with me the feeling of exaltation would subside, leaving in my heart a weary waste, a dread uncertainty, a fearful looking forward to some unknown yet certain evil. In God was my trust; but humanity is frail, and the sickness of heart that attends blighted hopes was often mine to bear.

On the few occasions when I saw my brother I observed that he grew wan and pale—that he had at times a look almost amounting to fierceness. Naturally ambitious, he chafed at his inactivity, and was tormented by a throng of unfulfilled desires. Although we hoped he had been born into the kingdom of grace, and was willing to follow where Providence led, still the natural man struggled against the submission that was to keep him in hiding.

The bonnie summer months had passed, the cool and pleasant autumn also, and winter was again upon us. Not a few were pinched with hunger, for oppression had wrung from many families nearly all their means of subsistence. We often thought of Steenie and prayed for him; but we knew not where he was, as the cold had driven him from all his old haunts.

One wild December night we sat by our comfortable fire: without, the hoarse wind roared in strange tones and in loud blasts that were fearful even to those who were comfortably housed. I was looking at the window opposite me, and almost reproaching myself for receiving so many comforts since they were denied to Steenie. Just then some one knocked at the door. I felt at once that it was my wandering brother; and so it was. But oh, how changed! He had been driven by actual hunger to venture home. The man whom we had employed to carry food to him, and whom we had liberally paid, even to the abatement of our own comforts, had proved faithless.

Great was our surprise and joy to behold our Steenie once more, and great was our sorrow to see him as he was, chilled and sick as well as hungry. I fastened the door again and drew the window-curtain, and mother and I both hastened to set food before the half-famished lad. Being warmed and refreshed, he began to talk freely, for at first he was too much exhausted to say much.

"This is not life," he said with bitterness, "and if I am never in some active way to serve my family and friends in the true cause, I wish that I might die. Why do not our party take the field? Our condition could scarcely be worse. I might as well be captured if I am to have free limbs only to lie behind rocks until they are benumbed from disuse. I shall bide here to-night; I shall sleep once more under our own roof; and if I am taken, I am taken."

The morning found him far from well and in no condition again to brave the rigors of winter. I bethought me of a little nook over the cow-shed that could be made very comfortable, and that would be little likely to attract attention. We made him a bed there, and we did not spare the best in the house. We carried some books up to him, and did all we could for his comfort; then we closed the trap-door, so that there appeared to be no opening. The ladder was drawn up into the little corner he occupied, and he thus had the means to let himself down whenever he chose. Having made these arrangements, we trusted that he was safe for the present.

But it soon became apparent that he was in danger of being betrayed by our own wee dog, for the affectionate creature sniffed and barked about the byre the whole time to win to his master. We thought at first to tie him up; but this might be inquired into and lead to a search. Some of our own neighbors we could scantly trust; and if any one had let the dog loose he would have gone straight to Steenie. I soon thought out a sure way to end that difficulty, but I said nothing about my plan.

When I gathered up the scraps from the table and put them into Watch's tray, I cast poison on the meat; and I mind well that a tear dropped in with it all, for I was fond of the wee doggie. But he must not live to endanger Steenie, although it was the poor beast's joy at his master's return that caused him to make such a din.

At noon I noticed that Jamie put aside a portion of his meat. "I'll no pick the banes clean the day," said he, seeing that his movements were observed, "because the doggie is sick-like, for he wunna play with me. I'll coax him a bit wi' the fresh meat."

I felt sorry for the bairn, but I said nothing.

After a while he came in, looking very sad. "Aunt Effie," said he sorrowfully, "Watch wunna tak his meat. I fear he will dee."

I patted his head. "Poor wee laddie, it is a tender heart you have," said I. I did not know what else to say.

An hour or two later he came in again, greeting outright. "Wee Watch is deid, Aunt Effie; wee Watch is deid!" and he sobbed as if his heart would break.

It seems a small thing to write, but to the bairn it was a great sorrow; he had lost his only companion. We had been so much occupied with our own troubles that we scarcely gave him a thought beyond seeing that he was well clothed and fed; but I can feel a pang even now for the grief of the poor bairn on account of the death of his playmate.

We succeeded in keeping Steenie safely through the winter, though there were times when our hearts quaked with fear. In spring-time, as the weather grew milder, he went back to his old retreats.