15
More militiamen thrust through the door, pushing the people of the glen before them. “Come on then, move back!”
Lachlan stepped forward. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” He tried to confront Campbell until a militia private rammed his musket butt into Lachlan’s stomach.
Lachlan doubled up, gasping, and the private pushed him back.
“Enough of that,” Father shouted until a corporal placed his bayonet under Father’s chin and pressed.
“Get back!” Campbell seemed to be enjoying himself.
The militia formed into two lines behind him, faces immobile and bayonets pointing toward the people of the glen. I looked at them for some sign of sympathy. There was none. Their faces could have been set in flint.
“Sir, what is the meaning of this?” The minister remained in the body of his
