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Updated: June 13, 2025
Here he remained until he received an order across the Frith from the earl of Mar to join lord Kenmuir and the English at Kelso, for which place he immediately began his march, and reached it on the twenty-second day of October, though a good number of his men had deserted on the route. The lord Kenmuir, with the earls of Winton, Nithsdale, and Carnwath, the earl of Derwentwater, and Mr.
Yet he manfully smothered his own aching heart and devoted himself to comforting the mourners at Kenmuir. In the days succeeding Mrs. Moore's death the boy recklessly neglected his duties at the Grange. But little M'Adam forbore to rebuke him. At times, indeed, he essayed to be passively kind. David, however, was too deeply sunk in his great sorrow to note the change. The day of the funeral came.
For there were the mourners from Kenmuir: the Master, tall, grim, and gaunt; and beside him Maggie, striving to be calm, and little Andrew, the miniature of his father. Alone, in the pew behind, David M'Adam in his father's coat.
"Yon's Owd Bob o' Kenmuir, is he?" he would say; for already among the faculty the name was becoming known. And never in such a case did the young dog fail to justify the faith of his supporters.
So the business of life began for that dog of whom the simple farmer-folk of the Daleland still love to talk, Bob, son of Battle, last of the Gray Dogs of Kenmuir. It is a lonely country, that about the Wastrel-dale. Parson Leggy Hornbut will tell you that his is the smallest church in the biggest parish north of the Derwent, and that his cure numbers more square miles than parishioners.
"If they wait for me, they wait till Monday," and with that he left the room. "I see what 'tis," his father called after him; "she's give ye a tryst at Kenmuir. Oh, ye randy David!" "Yo' tend yo' business; I'll tend mine," the boy answered hotly. Now it happened that on the previous day Maggie had given him a photograph of herself, or, rather, David had taken it and Maggie had demurred.
Then, looking down on the white stained face beneath him, he added hurriedly: "If ye like to lie, I'll believe ye." David was out of bed and standing up in his night-shirt. He looked at his father contemptuously. "I ha' bin at Kenmuir. I'll not lie for yo' or your likes," he said proudly. The little man shrugged his shoulders.
The little man had attempted to humble himself, and been rejected; and the bitterness of defeat, when he had deserved victory, rankled like a poisoned barb in his bosom. Yet the heat of his indignation was directed not against David, but against the Master of Kenmuir. To the influence and agency of James Moore he attributed his discomfiture, and bore himself accordingly.
The former was an amiable youth, brave, open, generous, hospitable, and humane. His fate drew tears from the spectators, and was a great misfortune to the country in which he lived. He gave bread to multitudes of people whom he employed on his estate; the poor, the widow, and the orphan rejoiced in his bounty. Kenmuir was a virtuous nobleman, calm, sensible, resolute, and resigned.
The leer and wink with which, when David came home from Kenmuir at nights, he would ask the simple question, "And was she kind, David eh, eh?" made the boy's blood boil within him. And the more effective the little man saw his shots to be, the more persistently he plied them. And David retaliated in kind. It was a war of reprisals.
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