or if we are, we are soldiers of the Cross. Time has rolled back some hundreds of years, and we are bound on a pilgrimage to Palestine. But no,—that is too visionary. I need a sterner dream: we are Lowlanders of Scotland, following a covenanting captain up into the hills to hold a meeting out of the reach of persecuting troopers. We know that battle may follow prayer; and, as we believe that in the worst issue of battle, Heaven must be our reward, we are ready and willing to redden the peat-moss with our blood. That music stirs my soul; it wakens all my life; it makes my heart beat: not with its temperate daily pulse, but with a new, thrilling vigour. I almost long for danger; for a faith—a land—or, at least, a lover to defend."
"Look, Shirley!" interrupted Caroline. "What is that red speck above Stilbro' Brow? You have keener sight than I; just turn your eagle eye to it."
Miss Keeldar looked. "I see," she said: then added, presently; "there is a line of red. They are soldiers—cavalry soldiers," she subjoined quickly: "they ride fast; there are six of them: they will pass us: no—they have turned off to the right: they saw our procession, and avoid it by making a circuit. Where are they going?"
"Perhaps they are only exercising their horses."
"Perhaps so. We see them no more now."
Mr. Helstone here spoke.
"We shall pass through Royd-lane, to reach Nunnely Common by a short cut," said he.
