and a slight current of air, as if propelled by it,
passed whispering along the sweetbriers, and the broom, and the tresses of the birch trees.
It came deepening, and rolling, and roaring on; and the very Cartland Craigs shook to their foundation, as if in an earthquake.
"The Lord have mercy upon us! What is this?"
And down fell many of the miserable wretches on their knees, and some on their faces, upon the sharp-pointed rocks.
Now, it was like the sound of many myriads of chariots rolling on their iron axles down the strong channel of the torrent.
The old, gray-haired minister issued from the mouth of Wallace's Cave, and said, in a loud voice, "The Lord God terrible reigneth!"
A waterspout had burst up among the moorlands, and the river, in its power, was at hand.
There it came, tumbling along into that long reach of cliffs, and, in a moment, filled it with one mass of waves.
Huge, agitated clouds of foam rode on the surface of a blood-red torrent.
An army must have been swept off by that flood.
The soldiers perished in a moment;
but high up in the cliffs, above the sweep of destruction, were the Covenanters, men, women, and children,
uttering prayers to God, unheard by themselves, in the raging thunder.