The Forrest City times., 1899-11-03
FORREST CITY, AFTERNOON, NOVEMBER B. IS

CTS who were prisoners uttered never word, and had not sued for mercy. But the walls of the women were sorrowful to hear. Bonshaw was the first to ap- p-oach the hut, and was met by Mar garet Mackenzie at the threshold.
 Back, thou man of blood and ter ror." she exclaimed, as she stood facing him with glittering eyes and pale cheeks.
 "Oh! ho!" cried the leader, ''who is it that commands here now? Give me kiss, my pretty lass, and leave threat enings to bolder hearts and stouter arms" and he made an effort to catch her by the arm, when Elder McLane thrust himself between the libertine and the girl.
 'Stay thy hand" he exclaimed, "and add no further crimes to thy long list"
 That for thee, hound," cried Bon- shaw, as he struck the elder with the butt of his pistol and felled him to the earth.
 Sad and almost despairing was the band that was marched away guarded by the rude soldiery, and the following day saw them all within prison walls, that is. all save the women. These were allowed to go free, but the fate of the men was yet to be a matter for a mili- tary tribunal.
 It was week later, when one stormy night Robert Lindsay made his escape 1 ha nd al tn where he found Margaret Mackenzie and many more of those who had been bereft of kinsmen on the fatal night when the pastor had fought at the head of his little flock.
 Between Lindsay and Margaret there existed a strong attachment, and it was only on account of the inopportunity of the times that Robert had not de- clared his love and asked the maiden to become his wife. Now, when she was deprived of protector and left an orphan, it seemed to Lindsay as if he ought, in bounden duty, to speak upon the subject
 "Thou knowest that I long have loved thee, Margaret" he said, .and many time l fain would have revealed my affection for thee, and it was only when I found thy late lamented father in favc/ of postponing the matter until the times were restored to tranquility that I obeyed his counsel and held my peace. All is changed now. He whose voice we both used to heed. and whose teachings served to keep our feet in the right way, has gone to his reward, and thou art alone. Say, wilt thou take me for thy husband? l am prescribed man, and perhaps by to-morrow's sun I may be again in the power of the un- godly. Thou wilt be compelled to fly the land with me, for it would be mad ness to remain here. 1 ask thee again canst thou be my wife,"
 Margaret held out her hand as she replied: "If it be thy desire I will do so."
 Lovemaking in those days and among those people was not the warm, pas sionate and mayhap uncertain thing that we all now know. Almost all the acts and speeches of the Covenanters were we'll considered, and responsibil- ity was always kept strong in view. So when Margaret Mackenzie gave Robert Lindsay her hand and said If it be thy desire I will do so," she would have uttered the same words and made them good, too, had Lindsay been destined for gibbet the next hour.
 Ten years had passed away, and Lindsay and his wife had never been seen nor heard of. Persecution had long since ceased, and peace was now vouchsafed to those who had long prayed for it, when Lindsay and his wife came from their residence abroad and appeared first at Falkirk, where Robert, now a preacher of rare talents and great power, soon made a stir among the people by his oratory. Crowds followed him from meeting to meeting; nor were his followers con- fined to the lower orders, but persons of high stations and great means were among the auditors.
 l One evening he was preaching to a crowded house, and his style was partic- ularly powerful and impressive, so much | so that many were moved to tears when a man in the front of the house, near by the speaker, was seen to move from time to time uneasily about in his seat. Robert Lindsay, on closing his sermon, had ended it with the text he had | chosen:
 For yet little while, and the wicked shall not be; yea, thou shalt diligently consider his place, and it shall not be-" | As he uttered these words the person to whom we have alluded staggered to his feet, and, falling forward on his face, was dead in an instant. That man was the wild Bonshaw.-London Madame.