The Betrayal of Maggie Blair - By Elizabeth Laird Page 0,87

you realize how dangerous this is?"

"Uncle, listen! They're surrounding the whole hillside. I saw them! If you go on this path, they'll be waiting on the far side."

Mr. Renwick came toward Uncle Blair.

"What was that? What did the lassie say?"

His eyes were alight with the excitement of it all, but a groan broke from Uncle Blair, who was pale with anxiety. I understood, suddenly, that he had risked everything—his farm, his family, and even his life—for the cause, and that he had done it knowingly, because he thought it was right. And I loved him for it.

"Oh, Lord, save us!" he was muttering. "Oh, God, help us!"

"Have courage, brother," said Mr. Renwick cheerfully. "Is there no hollow or dip where we can lie and hide? Surely there's some small place..."

"Up there! Two men and a girl! One of them's Renwick!" came a shout from below.

There was nowhere to go but on up the hill, even though I knew the noose was tightening around us.

"There's still a chance. We might slip through their cordon on the far side," Mr. Renwick said, panting. "We must pray that the Lord hides us for long enough from their eyes!"

We were nearly at the top of the hill. It was crowned with a high cairn of stones. I looked over my shoulder. There would be no safe way down for any of us now. Lieutenant Dundas's men were closing in. We were trapped on the windy peak.

"Ha!" Uncle Blair exclaimed suddenly. "Praise the Lord! He has shown me a hiding place! Get up the cairn, Mr. Renwick, quick! Climb the stones! There's a hollow inside it that Danny and I made when we were boys. No one will think to look for you there."

"But you..." began Mr. Renwick.

"It's you they want. It's your life that must be preserved to carry the word. Be quick! Hide!"

Mr. Renwick was already clambering up the pile of stones, and he whisked himself down inside as fast as a startled lizard shoots across a stone.

"Now, Maggie, we must face this out," said Uncle Blair. "We can't run from them. Sit here by me, my dear, and wait for them peacefully. I wish your father could have seen you today. He would have burst with pride. They'll take me, Maggie. You know that. My life then will be the Lord's to do with as he sees fit. I'll not have the chance to say goodbye to them all at home. Comfort your aunt, Maggie dear. Help her with the little ones. I know that it's not always been easy for you, but..." He picked up my hand and pressed it. "And try to forgive Annie, who has meant no harm, I'm sure."

It was Annie who betrayed you, Uncle, I wanted to protest, but the Black Cuffs were so close now that I could hear the buckles jingle on their scabbards, and I didn't want to distress him further.

"There are heavy fines to pay," Uncle Blair went on urgently, his thoughts running ahead. "There's silver put by in the strongbox. Not enough, but some. Tell Ritchie to apply for more to the Laird of Duchal if he has to, but only if things grow desperate. And tell him that the infield must be the first to harvest, when the oats are ripe. Tell him..."

"Uncle! You'll be back before harvest time, wherever they take you!" My voice was dry with dread.

"I don't think so, Maggie."

He stood up and stepped forward with a calm face to meet the first of the dragoons to reach the summit, who had drawn his sword and was pointing it directly at Uncle Blair's chest.

"Put your weapon away, man. There's no need for violence. But let the lassie go. She's a child. She wished only to see me safe."

Three other soldiers had arrived now. They grabbed Uncle Blair by the arms, but took no more notice of me than if I'd been a stray sheep.

"Go on, Maggie," Uncle Blair said over his shoulder. "Go back home."

One of the men had taken Uncle Blair by the front of his coat and was shaking him in a terrier's grip.

"Renwick! The preacher! Where is he? What have you done with him?"

"You'll not find him," Uncle Blair said, setting his jaw. "The Lord of hosts is with him. The God of Jacob is his refuge."

"Refuge? I'll give you refuge!" said the dragoon furiously, smacking Uncle Blair across the face with a swipe of his hand, so that the sword wound on his cheek