Perhaps it is not too much to say that during those black years--black for both sides, and very much so for Claverhouse--he was, in the imagination of the country folk, little else than a devil himself, and it was then he earned the title which has clung to him unto this day and been the sentence of his infamy, "Bloody Claverse."
Although there were not many houses of importance in the west which Graham had not visited during those years, it happened that he had never been within Paisley Castle, and that he had never met any of the family except the earl and his aged countess. Lady Cochrane and the Covenanting servants could have given a thumb-nail sketch of him which would have done for a mediæval picture of Satan, and an accompanying letter-press of his character which would have been a slander upon Judas Iscariot. Her heroic ladyship had, however, never met Claverhouse, and she prayed God she never would, not because she was afraid of him or of the devil himself, but because she knew it would not be a pleasant interview on either side. But it was not likely in those times that the Dundonalds should altogether escape the notice of the government, or that Graham, ranging through the country seeking whom he might devour, as the Covenanters said, should not find himself some day under their roof. The earl himself was known to be well affected, and in any case did not count, but Lady Cochrane was a dangerous woman, and her brother-in-law, Sir John, had been plotting against the government and was an exile.
No one was much surprised when tidings came to the castle early one morning that Claverhouse with two troops of his regiment, his own and the one commanded by Lord Ross, Jean Cochrane's cousin, was near Paisley, and that Claverhouse with Lord Ross craved the hospitality of the castle. It was natural that he should stay in the chief house of the neighborhood, and all the more as Lord Dundonald was himself notoriously loyal, but it was suspected that he came to gather what information he could about Sir John Cochrane, and to warn Lady Cochrane, the real ruler of the castle, to give heed to her ways.
"The day of trial which separates the wheat from the chaff has come at last, as I expected it would," said Lady Cochrane, with pride triumphing over concern; "it would have been strange and a cause for searching of hearts if the enemy had visited so many of God's people and had passed us by as if we were a thing of naught, or indeed were like unto Judas, who had made his peace with the persecutors. Have ye considered what ye will do, my lord?" she said to the earl, who was wandering helplessly up and down the dining-hall.