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Henderson
set the tone and tenor of the proceedings by mounting one of the
many flat table-stones of the graveyard and calling the great
company to prayer in loud and ringing voice. Head thrown back, fine
eyes alight, fists clenched and often upraised to heaven, he not so
much entreated and besought his Maker as assailed Him in the name of
their mutual and sacred cause and duty. Harshly powerful, his words
direct, unfaltering, his sincerity undeniable, he committed the
Lord God to the side of liberty, justice and Presbyterianism, at
length and in detail. After this, the very angels of light might not
mistake.

Then
John Campbell, Earl of Loudoun, mounted the gravestone, even as the
Amens rang out vehemently, seeking to cut them short. He was,
however, no orator, and before he was finished folk were chatting
amongst themselves and tending to move around to keep warm.
Frowning, the earl wound up prematurely by calling upon all present
to append their names to the document - and then, at a tug from
Warriston, recollected, and added that before they could honestly do
so, of course, they must hear its terms, all its terms. At a slight
groan from those who could hear, he commanded Archibald
Johnston of Warriston to read the Covenant through.

The
young advocate put things to right, despite the bad start, the chill
draughts of the place, and the tendency of his hearers to stamp on
the grass, rub and even blow on their hands. Once again his
histrionic abilities were brought dramatically into play, and what
could have been a rather dull, wordy and repetitious disquisition,
despite its undoubted noble sentiments and sincerity, became a
clarion call, a resounding testimony of a nation's love of freedom,
a cause to die for it need be. So carried away by emotion became
this strange orator, as he went on, that sometimes tears coursed
unheeded down his sallow cheeks, his voice choked, and there were
agonising pauses when it seemed that he could not go on. Montrose,
to whom this sort of thing was totally alien and embarrassing, was
astonished to perceive that, instead of putting people off, and
making the occasion something of a charade, this treatment was in
fact arousing the company to a high pitch of almost febrile
enthusiasm. The pauses and gulping silences seemed only to enhance
the tension. And cold was forgotten.

A
voice murmured in the Graham's car. "Now you will perceive what
we, in the courts, must needs contend with!
There
is a chiel who will have my office, if he can!'

It
was Sir Thomas Hope, at Montrose's back, wrapped in a fur robe and
sober black.

'How
honest is he, think you? Is this play-acting? Or sincerity?
^'

'Oh,
he is sincere enough, I think. Though, i' faith, I believe that I
would prefer that he was not! A man so moved to hot feeling, as
this, could endanger any cause. If allowed high place. And Warriston
will not be content with lowly. But
...
he will get your Covenant signed for you, this day. Mark my words!'

Yet,
despite his words, and despite the ringing, almost hysterical
acclaim which greeted the end of the reading, when Loudoun, like a
douche of cold water, curtly demanded signatures, the great crowded
kirkyard was abruptly stricken with immobility. A silence descended.
No single man stepped forward to be the first to sign this noble and
applauded document. It was as though sudden realisation had dawned
that this, however splendid, would most certainly be branded by the
King and the Privy Council as a highly treasonable statement, and
expressly contrary to the royal command.

'Does
the Graham not lead in this?' came quietly at Montrose's shoulder,
as none volunteered.

'Gladly,'
the younger man said. 'But surely it is for Rothes to be first ? Or
yourself, sir? On whose advice this was drawn up.'

'Na,
na - Tom Hope signing that paper could no longer remain King's
Advocate, man. I will serve your cause better in that office than by
writing my name yonder.'

'Perhaps.
But Rothes
...
?' Montrose looked over at that man enquiringly.

Rothes
smiled, almost mockingly, but shook his head. 'After you, James,' he
chuckled. 'If needs I must!'

'Very
well.' Raising his voice, James Graham called strongly, 'Give me the
pen, my lord.'

A
great sigh arose from the company.

Taken
from Warriston the large parchment was spread out flat on top of
another table-stone by Archibald Henderson and Andrew Cant.
Taking the quill from Loudoun, dipping it in the portable
ink-horn, James Graham strode forward and, bending low, wrote the
word Montrose bold and clear, just below the end of the statement,
at the left-hand side.

'Praise
God! And bless you, my lord,' gravely good-looking Andrew Cant said
quietly, at his side. 'Scotland could ever rely on the Graham! Where
you lead, a whole realm will follow.'

Doubtfully
the younger man shook his head, straightening up, ‘I fear,
sir, that you expect too much of me.' But there was no doubt about
him when Loudoun made to take the quill from his fingers. 'Wait you,
my lord,' he said. He turned, and held the pen out to Rothes.

That
squat man wagged his head ruefully. 'You are a hard man, James,' he
complained. 'The Graham's head, Charles Stewart might think twice to
chop. But Johnnie Leslie's he'd have off like a thrissle's! His
Grace has never loved me.' Nevertheless, he took the quill and
signed, a notably crabbed, small signature for so extrovert a man,
squeezed in to the left of the other, where there was scarcely room
anyway - an odd choice when there was a whole sheet to choose from.
Montrose looked at the older man thoughtfully.

After
these two, there was no longer any holding back -save in the matter
of due precedence. Since two earls had signed first, it was accepted
that the other earls should come next. Cassillis, Home, Lothian,
Wemyss and Loudoun set down their names in quick succession. The
lords followed, Yester, Boyd, Elcho - Wemyss's son - Lindsay,
Melville and Balmerino. Archie Napier did not sign, pointing out
like Hope, that if he did so, he could scarcely remain a member of
the Privy Council; and his membership there might yet be of more
value to the cause than his signature on a paper. The long queue of
the lesser barons and lairds was now forming up, in turn. This
business obviously was going to take a long time.

There
is one face missing here, today, that I'd looked to see,' Sir Thomas
Hope said, as they stood watching the long line of signatories.
'Where is Archibald Campbell ?'

‘
Why
should he be here? He has shown no least interest, attended no
meetings.'

There
are more ways of showing interest than by attending meetings,
my lord. My information is that my lord of Lome is exceeding
interested. Word of everything that is said and done is carried to
him forthwith. Hot-foot, indeed. I vow that he will know by the
mom's mom who first put pen

to
that paper.'

"Not
in far-away Argyll, surely... ?' "He is not in Argyll. These
last weeks he has been at Castle Campbell, near Dollar. Not ten
miles across the Ochils from your own house of Kincardine. Do not
say that you did not know it!
MacCailean
Mor
and
An
Greumach Mor
sitting
cheek by jowl in the Ochils. Do not tell me this is news to you, my
lord!'

Montrose
frowned. 'I have not been staying at Kincardine. My wife is at her
father's house of Kinnaird I...' He paused. 'Archibald Campbell is
not yet
MacCailean
Mor
,'
he
said, in a different voice.

'To
all intents he is. His feckless father disgraced, turned rabid
Catholic in his dotage, indulging in foolish plots and banished
Scotland. By decree the Lord Lorne has been given - or has acquired
— all his father's powers, the management of the largest lands
in this realm and complete control of

Clan
Campbell. He is
Mac
Cailean Mor
in
everything but name. He is only a step from being the powerfullest
man in Scotland.' ‘Mm.'

‘
Did
you expect him here today, Tom?' Napier asked.

‘
I_conceived
that he could not afford to stay away.
I
was wrong, it appears.'

'I
do not take you, sir,' Montrose said. ‘What has the Campbell
to gain here? All here put their necks at risk, but stand to gain
nothing. Save perhaps some peace in their souls! What is here for
the Campbell?'

'What
but the leadership and power in this land?
^'
the Lord Advocate replied. 'Since it lost its kings to London,
Scotland has lacked its leadership. The Campbell will lead in
Scotland, if he may. And this cause and bond, this Covenant, could
give him — or another — that leadership. If played
aright.' And he looked directly at the younger man.

'I
have said, and still I say, that I do not seek such position,'
Montrose declared flatly, almost doggedly.

‘
You
cannot deny your birthright, my lord. Any more than can Archibald
Campbell. I think that you would not wish to see him ruling in
Scotiand?'

The
other was silent.

'It
is my belief that Lome but waits his chance. To take this cause into
his own two hands. Then use it to rule Scotland.' Hope paused.
'And, who knows, Scotland might do worse! For a strong hand, any
strong hand, could be better than no hand at all. Or a thousand weak
ones!'

James
Graham chewed on that for a while, as he was meant to do. 'I do not
say that I accept that,
^'
he observed, at length, watching Douglas of Cavers, Sheriff of
Teviotdale, append his signature. 'But . . . Campbell has done
nothing. For this Covenant. Even though, as you say, he may be
interested, watchful, he has done nothing, taken no part. Not even
come to sign it. How can you think that he intends to use it?'

'He
would not sign it for the same reason that I do not,' Napier said.
'He is a member of the Privy Council, likewise. Made so, though
young, while you were abroad, James. He would cling to that
position, meantime, I have no doubt.'

'Exactly,'
Hope agreed. 'Archie Campbell is exceeding godly, for a man of his
years - the more so since his father married again and turned
Papist. I know no sterner Presbyterian in the land! He will,
must
approve
this cause. But he is a clever man, something of a fox. And will
prefer, if fingers are to be burned while lighting this fire, that
it should be other fingers than his own. When he is assured of your
success — then he will step in. And as Privy Councillor,
Justiciar of Argyll and Chief of Clan Campbell, his step will be no
light one!'