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As to Andrew Black, the only change that took place in his condition during his long captivity was his transference unknown to his kindred from the gloomy prison of the Bass Rock to the still gloomier cells of Dunnottar Castle.
From this consideration, we preferred to take the coast road southward, which, though it passes through a comparatively tame-looking country, is thickly strewn with places replete with stirring and romantic incidents of Scottish history. Nor had we any cause to regret our choice. Fifteen miles south of Aberdeen we came in sight of Dunnottar Castle, lying about two miles from the highway.
The Lord Jesus grant us strength and success. What was done with, the prisoners taken at Bothwell Bridge? How did they suffer in Edinburgh? Describe their prison, and their hardships. What two of their ministers were executed? Describe Dunnottar Castle. Describe the Bass Rock. For what was it used in those times? How may we meet the obligations descending from the fathers?
The ledge conducted him to safer ground, and in another quarter of an hour he was free! To get as far and as quickly as possible from Dunnottar was now his chief aim. He travelled at his utmost speed till daybreak, when he crept into a dry ditch, and, overcome by fatigue, forgot his sorrow in profound unbroken slumber.
Turning now from the south-west of Scotland, we direct attention to the eastern seaboard of Kincardine, where, perched like a sea-bird on the weatherbeaten cliffs, stands the stronghold of Dunnottar Castle. Down in the dungeons of that rugged pile lies our friend Andrew Black, very different from the man whose fortunes we have hitherto followed.
That night, when all even the harassed prisoners in Dunnottar Castle were asleep, except the sentinels, the desperate man forced himself with difficulty through the very small window of the dungeon. It was unbarred, because, opening out on the face of an almost sheer precipice, it was thought that nothing without wings could escape from it.
It was a weary and irksome state of things, but better as Black sagaciously remarked than being imprisoned on the Bass Rock or shut up in Dunnottar Castle. But the near presence of Jean Black had, no doubt, more to do with the resignation of our hero to his position than the fear of imprisonment. As time passed, things in the political horizon looked blacker than ever.
Such was Scotland in the reign of Charles Stuart II, and such a story seemed in keeping with the vast, dismal old fortress. But Dunnottar, secluded and lonely as it was, did not escape the far-reaching arm of the Lord Protector, and in 1562 his cannon, planted on the height opposite the headland, soon brought the garrison to terms.
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