"The holy, Godfearing minister of the kirk in Stirling, the Reverend James Guthrie, hath indeed been lately here. Famished and worn with long fasting and long journeying he came here, where he was secure of a welcome. And he hath received both rest and refreshment in this very room. May the all-merciful Father be praised that he had left it before you came, and that I am spared the suffering of seeing him carried off a prisoner before my eyes. May the Lord have him in His keeping wherever He hath led his steps."

The unwelcome intruder swore a passionate oath. "If the troublesome blabber and sedition-monger be not soon in my keeping it shall be the worse for the district that harbours him, I warrant you that, my worthy dame. And so, where think you he may be harboured now?"

"Where think I he may be harboured now!" echoed the lady with a curling lip, and an accent of contemptuous scorn in the usually sweet voice. "Count the homes for ten miles around Stirling, aye, every shepherd's shieling and ploughman's cot; then you may have some notion, perchance, of the number of the places wherein might lie sheltered the beloved friend and revered minister, James Guthrie. Ah! truly the Lord giveth the very holes of the rocks, the thickness of the heather, the dark cover of the night, for harbours of refuge for "

But the uninvited visitor waited to hear no more. Effectually misled by Kate McCall's clever manage

ment, and reminded by her allusion to the night that its darkness was as a fact now falling, to the rendering of the scarcely-known road not a little dangerous for horsemen, the commander bestowed another oath upon his fruitless expedition, and led his troop away again from the precincts of Blair's Farm.

For that time the hidden minister was safe.

CHAPTER VIII.

DARK TIMES.

HE first of June, 1661. Mist-loving Scotland of the purple hills, the glowing heather, and the multitudinous shadows, clouds, and changing tints, had robed herself in her fairest green, her loveliest skies, her sunniest smiles. Her roads gleamed white and bright, as they stretched away over hill and dale, and beside the sparkling burns.

A very gala day one might have declared that happy-looking first of June, and with the firm, clear roads, and sunlit mountain-sides inviting all who had hearts to answer to sweet influences to take it for a holiday.

Alas! It is for those who are happy to make holiday, not for those who are sad; and there was a great throb of pain felt far and wide in the land of the North that summer day, in spite of the spirit that was abroad breathing joy.

The Marquis of Argyle had been beheaded in the

F

High Street of Edinburgh but four days since, and to-day that "minister of the Gospel at Stirling" and at many another spot to which he travelled, that active, eager minister, James Guthrie, was to die.

Have a few words of history here, that you may the better understand the causes of these dreary tragedies.

After King Charles the Second was once fairly seated on his father's throne the English Parliament set to work, as quickly as possible, to pass "an Act of Indemnity for the protection of the large class of persons who had done acts of choice, or necessity, capable of any day bringing them within the letter of the law of high treason."

That was a very wise and prudent move, you see, on the part of the English, but the poor Scots did not manage so well. They had to wait for the meeting of the Estates before their Indemnity Act could be settled, and meanwhile a few unfortunate individuals could be picked out, who were obnoxious from one cause or another, and made victims of; since there was no law as yet to which they could appeal for protection.

The Marquis of Argyle was the first one selected. You could never possibly guess one principal reason why he was to be put to death; no, not if I gave you a month of Mondays to do it in, so I may as well tell you first as last.

It was chiefly the Marquis of Argyle's power and influence that had restored the throne to the Stuart

King, and, seeing that he was powerful enough to help a king to obtain possession of a kingdom, of course nobody could deny that he might very probably be also powerful enough to deprive a king of it again, if he should ever happen to wish to do so.

Humph! A very uncomfortable thought that was, certainly. People stronger than yourself may be very delightful to have for friends, if they can get you something you wish for but cannot get for yourself. But, when you have possession of the desirable object, no doubt you would just a trifle prefer that stronger person's absence to his company, if the thought came into your mind that he was likely to want your treasure himself.

Be that as it may, however, with regard to you, it was certainly so with King Charles the Second; and, adding to coward fear base ingratitude, he seized upon every possible pretext he could think of, or those about him could suggest, for the gratification of his purpose. He let the unsuspicious nobleman travel to London to pay his respects in all good faith to the new Sovereign, because it was ever so much easier to make a snatch at him in the English Metropolis than while he was in his own fine castle of Inverary. Then he had him taken and clapped into the Tower for a few days, till it was convenient to return him in a war-ship to his own country as a prisoner, and lodge him in Edinburgh Castle.

On the 13th of February, 1661, he was formally