Morton said: "You look sourly at me, gentlemen. I am ignorant why you should treat me thus." "Out upon thee!" exclaimed Mucklewrath, starting up; "the word which thou hast spurned shall crush thee; the spear which thou wouldst have broken shall pierce thy side; we have prayed for an offering to atone for the sins of the congregation, and lo! the very head of the offence is delivered into our hand. He is like a ram caught in the thicket, whose blood shall be a drink-offering to redeem vengeance from the church. Bind the victim with cords to the horns of the altar." There was a movement among the company; Morton was armed only with his sword, for he had left his pistols in his saddle-bow, and as the Whigs were all provided with firearms, he saw no chance of resistance. The interposition, however, of Macbriar protected him for the moment. He exclaimed: "Tarry yet a while, brethren, and do not slay rashly." Addressing Morton, he said: "We will reckon with thee ere we avenge the cause thou hast betrayed. Thou hast opposed the truth in all of the assemblies of the host, and hast urged peace with the malignants, and pleaded for the guilt of the indulgence, and would have surrendered the army into the hands of Monmouth, and was the first to desert the brave Burley." "Gentlemen," replied Morton, "if you mean to take my life without hearing me, it is in your power; but in doing so you will sin against God by committing murder." "I say hear the youth," said Macbriar; "for we have yearned for him, that he might be brought to see the truth and exert his gifts in its defence. But he is blinded by carnal knowledge, and spurned the light which was offered him." Silence being obtained, Morton asserted the good faith which he had displayed in the treaty with Monmouth, and the active part he had borne in the subsequent action. He added: "I may not assign to those of my own religion the right to tyrannize over others, but none shall go further in asserting our lawful freedom. If others had been of my mind in councils, or stood by my side in battle, we should this evening, instead of being a defeated and discordant remnant, have compelled an honorable peace or gained a decisive victory." "He hath avowed his carnal self-seeking and Erastianism," exclaimed some of the assembly, "let him die the death!" "Peace," cried Macbriar, "I will try him further. Was it not by thy means that the malignant Evandale twice escaped from captivity and death? and that Miles Bellenden and his garrison of cutthroats were saved from the edge of the sword?” Morton replied: "I am proud to say that you have spoken the truth in both instances." "Lo! you see!" exclaimed Macbriar, "he admits it, and for the sake of Midianitish woman, Edith Bellenden, a spawn of prelacy, you did this?" "You are incapable,” said Morton boldly, “of appreciating my feelings toward that young lady; but all that I have done I would have done had she never existed." "Thou art a hardy rebel," said another gloomy looking "Didst thou not act by carrying away Margaret Bellenden and her granddaughter, that thou mightst thwart the project of John Balfour of Burley for bringing forth to battle Basil Oliphant, who had agreed to take the field with us, if he was insured possession of this woman's property ?'' man. "I never heard of such a scheme, " said Morton, "and hence could not thwart it. Does your religion sanction such discreditable modes of recruiting ?" "Peace," exclaimed Macbriar somewhat disconcerted; "it is not for thee to construe covenant obligations, nor to instruct us. You haveadmitted enough of sin and defection to draw down defeat on a host. We cannot let you pass from us safe and in life, since Providence has placed you in our hands in answer to our prayers. Thou must sustain a just punishment. Therefore mark my words. This is the Sabbath, and we shall not spill thy blood upon this day, but at the stroke of twelve, it is a token that thy time on earth has run. Whereupon improve this brief space allotted thee. Seize the prisoner and take his sword." Morton was at once overpowered, disarmed, and a strong girth passed around his arms. A silence then occurred. The fanatics seated themselves around a table, placing Morton among them bound and helpless, opposite the clock which was to strike his death knell. They offered him a portion of their food, but he declined to partake. When this was removed the party resumed their devotions. Macbriar, who still cherished some feelings of doubt and compassion, began to expostulate in prayer, as if to learn from the Deity whether Morton's death would prove an acceptable service. Ever and anon the worshippers glanced at the cloak to watch its progress toward the moment of execution. Morton, firm in his religious faith, and in his high principles of honor and consciousness of innocence, passed through the dreadful interval with but slight apparent agitation. Yet there was a lack of that animating sense of right which supported him in similar circumstances when in the power of Claverhouse. Then he was conscious that some of the spectators lamented his condition and extolled his conduct. But now, among these ferocious zealots, whose hardened brows were soon to be bent with triumph on his execution, without a kindly word of sympathy, awaiting the approach of death, he could scarce preserve his composure as he watched the slowly moving hands of the clock. His destined executioners looked like spectres in a fiendish dream, or like a band of demons; the walls seemed to drop with blood, and the tick of the clock became actually painful to him. He felt his mind wandering, as if on the brink of the future world. He attempted to frame a prayer for deliverance, and recited the one found in the book of common prayer of the Church of England. Macbriar, whose family were of that persuasion, recognized the words which the unfortunate prisoner muttered. "There lacked but this," said he, his pale cheek kindling |