The Scottish Chiefs Page 2

  Chapter II.

  Lanark.

  The darkness was almost impenetrable. Musing on what had passed withMonteith, and on the likelihood of any hero appearing, who, by freeinghis country, could ever claim the privilege of investigating themystery which was now his care. Wallace rode on till, crossing thebridge of Lanark, he saw the rising moon silver the tops of the distanthills; and then his meditations embraced a gentler subject. This wasthe time he had promised Marion he should be returned, and he had yetfive long miles to go, before he could reach the glen of Ellerslie; hethought of her being alone--of watching, with an anxious heart, theminutes of his delay. Scotland and its wrongs he now forgot, in theidea of her whose happiness was dearer to him than life. He could notachieve the deliverance of the one, but it was his bliss to preservethe peace of the other; and putting spurs to his horse, under the nowbright beams of the moon he hastened through the town.

  Abruptly turning an angle leading to the Mouse River, a cry of murderarrested his ear. He checked his horse and listened. The clashing ofarms told him the sound had issued from an alley to the left. Healighted in an instant, and drawing his sword, threw away the scabbard(prophetic omen!), then, leaving his horse with one of his servantshastened, with the other three, to the spot whence the noise proceeded.

  On arriving he discovered two men in tartans, with their backs to theopposite wall, furiously assaulted by a throng of Edward's soldiers.At this sight, the Scots who accompanied Wallace were so enraged that,blowing their bugles to encourage the assailed, they joined hand tohand with their gallant leader, and attacking the banditti, each mancut his opponent to the ground.

  Such unexpected assistance reanimated the drooping strength of one ofthe two, with whom the cry had issued. He sprung from the wall withthe vigor of a tiger, but at the moment received a wound in his back,which would have thrown him at the feet of his enemies, had not Wallacecaught him in his left arm, and with his right, cleared the way, whilehe cried to his men who were fighting near him-"To the Glen!" As hespoke, he threw the now insensible stranger into their arms. The otherman, whose voice had first attracted Wallace, at the instant sunk,covered with blood, on the pavement.

  Two of the servants, obeying their master, carried their senselessburden toward the horses; but the third, being hemmed in by the furioussoldiers, could not move. Wallace made a passage to his rescue, andeffected it; but one base wretch, while the now wounded Scot wasretreating, made a stroke which would have severed his head from hisbody, had not the trusty claymore of Wallace struck down the pendingweapon of the coward, and received his rushing body upon its point. Hefell with bitter imprecations, calling aloud for vengeance.

  A dreadful cry was now raised by the whole band of assassins:"Murder!-treason!-Arthur Heselrigge is slain!" The uproar becamegeneral. The windows of the adjoining houses were thrown open; peoplearmed and unarmed issued from their doors and pressed forward toinquire the cause of the alarm. Wallace was nearly overpowered; ahundred swords flashed in the torchlight; but at the moment he expectedthey would be sheathed in his heart, the earth gave way under his feet,and he sunk into utter darkness.

  He fell upon a quantity of gathered broom; and concluding that theweight of the thronging multitude had burst his way through the arch ofa cellar, he sprung to his feet; and though he heard the curses ofseveral wretches, who had fallen with him and fared worse, he made butone step to a half-opened door, pointed out to him by a gleam from aninner passage. The men uttered a shout as they saw him darken thelight which glimmered through it; but they were incapable of pursuit;and Wallace, aware of his danger, darting across the adjoiningapartment, burst open a window, and leaped out to the foot of theLanark hills.

  The oaths of the soldiers, enraged at his escape, echoed in his ears,till distance sunk them into hoarse murmurs. He pursued his way overthe craigs; through the valley, and across the river, to the cliffswhich embattle the garden of Ellerslie. Springing on the projectingpoint of the nearest, he leaped into a thicket of honeysuckles. Thiswas the favorite bower of his Marion! The soft perfume, as it salutedhis senses, seemed to breathe peace and safety; and as he emerged fromits fragrant embrace, he walked with a calmer step toward the house.He approached a door which led into the garden. It was open. Hebeheld his beloved leaning over a couch, on which was laid the personhe had rescued. Halbert was dressing his wounds.

  Wallace paused for a moment, to contemplate his lovely wife in thismore lovely act of charity. Her beautiful hands held a cup to the lipsof the stranger; while her long hair, escaped from its band, fell injetty ringlets, and mingled with his silver locks.

  "Marion!" exclaimed the overflowing soul of her husband. She looked upat the well-known sound, and with a cry of joy, rushing forward, threwherself into his arms; her tears flowed, she sobbed--she clung to hisbreast. It was the first time Wallace had been from her; she hadfeared it would have been the last. The hour--the conflict--the bleedingstranger! But now he was returned--he was safe!

  "Art thou indeed here!" exclaimed she. Blood fell from his foreheadupon her face and bosom: "O, my Wallace!" cried she, in agony.

  "Fear not, my love! all is well, since our wounded countryman is safe."

  "But you, bleed!" returned she. No tears now impeded her voice.Terror had checked their joyful currents; and she felt as if sheexpected his life-blood to issue from the wound on which she gazed.

  "I hope my preserver is not hurt?" inquired the stranger.

  "Oh, no!" replied Wallace, putting back the hair from his forehead; "amere trifle!" That the action had discovered the gash to be wider thanhe thought, he saw in the countenance of his wife! She turned deadlypale. "Marion," said he, "to convince you how causeless your fearsare, you shall cure me yourself; and with no other surgery than yourgirdle!"

  When Lady Wallace heard his gay tone, and saw the unforced smiles onhis lips, she took courage; and, remembering the deep wounds on thestranger, whom she had just assisted to dress, without any alarm forhis life, she began to hope that she need not now fear for the objectdearest to her in existence. Rising from her husband's arms, with alanguid smile she unbound the linen fillet from her waist; and Halberthaving poured some balsam into the wound, she prepared to apply thebandage; but when she lifted her husband's hair from his temple--thathair which had so often been the object of her admiration, as it hungin shining masses over his arching brows!-when the clotted blood mether fingers, a mist seemed to pass over her sight; she paused for amoment; but rallying her strength, as the cheerful sound of his voiceconversing with his guest assured her fear was needless, she tied thefillet; and, stealing a soft kiss on his cheek when she had finished,she seated herself, yet trembling, by his side.

  "Gallant Wallace!" continued the stranger-agitation had prevented herhearing what had preceded this-"it is Donald Earl of Mar, who owes hislife to you."

  "Then blessed be my arm," exclaimed Wallace, "that has preserved a lifeso precious to my country!"

  "May it indeed be blessed!" cried Lord Mar; "for this night it has madethe Southrons feel there is yet one man in Scotland who does not fearto resist oppression, and to punish treachery."

  "What treachery?" inquired Lady Wallace, her alarmed spirit stillhovering about her soul's far dearer part; "is any meant to my husband?"

  "None to Sir William Wallace, more than to any other brave Scot,"replied the earl: "but we all see the oppression of our country; we allknow the treachery by which it was subjugated; and this night, in myown person, I have felt the effects of both. The English at Lanarkdispatched a body of men to Bothwell Castle (where my family now are),on a plea, that as its lord is yet absent, they presume he is adverseto Edward, and therefore they must search his dwelling for documents tosettle the point. Considering myself the representative of mybrother-in-law, Lord Bothwell, and suspecting that this might be only aprivate marauding party, I refused to admit the soldiers; and saw themdepart, swearing to return next day with a stronger force, and stormthe castle. To be ascertained
of their commission, and to appealagainst such unprovoked tyranny, should it be true, I followed thedetachment to Lanark.

  "I saw Heselrigge the governor. He avowed the transaction; but awed bythe power which he thinks I possess in the country, he consented tospare Bothwell while I and my family remain in it. It being nearlydark, I took my leave, and was proceeding toward my servants in thecourtyard when a young man accosted me. I recognized him to be theofficer who had commanded the party I had driven from the castle.Heselrigge having told me that he was his nephew, I made no hesitationto go back with him, when he informed me that his uncle had forgottensomething of importance, and begged me to return. I followed hissteps; but instead of conducting me to the room in which I hadconversed with Heselrigge, he led me along a dark passage into a smallapartment, where telling me his uncle would attend me, he suddenlyretreated out of the door, and before I could recollect myself I heardhim bolt it after him.

  "I now saw myself a prisoner; and alarmed at what might be intended tomy defenseless family, I made every essay to force the door, but it wasin vain. Driven to despair, I remained in a state of mind not to bedescribed, when the bolt was withdrawn, and two men entered, withmanacles in their hands. They attempted to seize me, telling me I wasthe prisoner of King Edward. I did not listen further, but woundingone with my dagger, felled the other to the ground; and darting pasthim, made my way through what passages I cannot tell, till I foundmyself in a street leading from behind the governor's house. I ranagainst some one as I rushed from the portal; it was my servant Neil.I hastily told him to draw his sword and follow me. We then hurriedforward; he telling me he had stepped out to observe the night, whilethe rest of my men were awaiting me in the house, wondering at my delay.

  "Rejoiced at my escape, and fearing the worst of consequences from thetreachery of Heselrigge, I was hastening onward, determined to pursuemy way on foot to the protection of my family, when, at the turning ofan angle which leads to the Bothwell road, we were suddenly surroundedby armed men. The moon shone full on their faces, and I discoveredthey were Southrons, and that young Heselrigge was at their head.

  "He aimed a blow at my head with his battle-ax, and in a voice oftriumph exclaimed to his soldiers, 'The plunder of Bothwell, my lads!Down with its lord! All but the lady Helen shall be yours!"

  "In a moment every sword was directed toward me. They wounded me inseveral places; but the thought of my daughter gave supernatural vigorto my arm, and I defended myself till the cries of my servant broughtyou, my brave deliverer, to my rescue. But, while I am safe, perhapsmy treacherous pursuer has marched toward Bothwell, too sure to committhe horrid violence he meditates; there are none to guard my child buta few domestics, the unpracticed sword of my stripling nephew, and thefeeble arms of my wife."

  "Be easy on that head," interrupted Wallace: "I believe the infamousleader of the banditti fell by my hand, for the soldiers made an outcrythat Arthur Heselrigge was killed; and then pressing on me to takerevenge, their weight broke a passage into a vault, through which Iescaped-"

  "Save, save yourself, my master!" cried a man rushing in from thegarden. "You are pursued-"

  While he spoke he felt insensible at Wallace's feet. It wasDugald whom he had rescued from the blow of Heselrigge, and who, fromthe state of his wound had been thus long in reaching Ellerslie.

  Wallace had hardly time to give him to the care of Halbert, when thevoice of war assailed his ears. The tumult of men demanding admittanceand the terrible sound of spears rattling against the shields of theirowners, told the astonished group within that the house was beset byarmed foes.

  "Blood for blood!" cried a horrid voice, which penetrated the almostpalsied senses of Lady Marion. "Vengence on Wallace, for the murder ofHeselrigge!"

  "Fly, fly!" cried she, looking wildly at her husband.

  "Whither?" answered he, supporting her in his arms. "Would this be amoment to leave you, and our wounded guest? I must meet them."

  "Not now!" cried Lord Mar. "Hear you not how numerous they are? Markthat shout! they thirst for blood. If you have love, pity, for yourwife, delay not a moment. Again-"

  The uproar redoubled, and the room was instantly filled with shriekingwomen in their night-clothes, the attendants of Lady Wallace. Shealmost expiring, on her husband's breast.

  "O my lord!" cried the terrified creatures, wringing their hands, "whatwill become of us! The Southrons are at the gates, and we shall belost forever!"

  "Fear not," replied Wallace; "retire to your chambers. I am the personthey seek: none else will meet with injury."

  Appeased by this assurance, the women retreated to their apartments;and Wallace, turning to the earl, who continued to enforce thenecessity of his flight, repeated, that he would not consent to leavehis wife in such a tumult.

  "Leave me," cried she, in an inarticulate voice, "or see me die."

  As she spoke, there was a violent crash, and a tremendous burst ofimprecations. Three of Wallace's men ran panting into the room. Twoof the assailants had climbed to the hall window; and had just beenthrown back upon the cliffs, where one was killed. "Conceal yourself,"said the Scots to Wallace; "for in a few minutes more your men will notbe able to maintain the gates."

  "Yes, my dear lord," cried Halbert, "there is a dry well at the end ofthe garden; at the bottom of that you will be safe."

  "By your love for me, Wallace--by all you owe to the tender affectionsof your grandfather, hearken to him!" cried Lady Marion, falling at hisfeet, and clasping his knees. "I kneel for my life in kneeling foryours! Pity the gray hairs of Sir Ronald, whom your untimely deathwould bring to the grave! Pity your unborn child! Fly, Wallace, flyif you would have me live!" She was pale and breathless.

  "Angel of my life," exclaimed Wallace, straining her to his heart, "Iobey thee. But if the hand of one of the desperate robbers dares totouch thy hallowed person-"

  "Think not so, my lord," interrupted Halbert; "it is you they seek.Not finding you, they will be too eager in pursuit to molest your lady."

  "I shall be safe," whispered Marion; "only fly--while you are here,their shouts kill me."

  "But thou shalt go with me," returned he; "the well will contain usall. But first let our faithful Halbert and these honest fellows lowerLord Mar into the place of refuge. He being the cause of the affray,if discovered, would be immediately sacrificed."

  Lord Mar acquiesced; and while the contention was so loud without, asto threaten the tearing down of the walls, the earl was carried intothe garden. He was followed by Sir William Wallace, to whose arm hiswife yet fondly clung. At every cry of the enemy, at every shock theygave to his yet impregnable gates, she breathed the shorter, and wasclasped by the lord of her heart still more closely to his bosom.

  At the well-side they found the earl bound with rope that was to lowerhim to the bottom. By great care it was safely done; and the cordbeing brought up again, before it was tied round Wallace (for hisagonized wife insisted he should descend next), he recollected that theiron box at his side might hurt the wounded nobleman by striking him inhis descent; and, unbuckling it, he said it contained matters of greatvalue, and ordered it to be lowered first.

  Lord Mar, beneath, was releasing it from the rope, when a shout oftriumph pierced their ears. A party of the English, having come roundthe heights, had leaped the wall of the garden, and were within a fewyards of the well. For Wallace to descend now was impossible. "Thattree!" whispered Marion, pointing to an oak-tree near which they stood.As she spoke, she slid from his arms, and along with the venerableHalbert, who had seized her hand, disappeared amid the adjoiningthicket. The two servants fled also.

  Wallace, finding himself alone, the next instant, like one of hisnative eagles, was looking down from the towering top of the wood uponhis enemies. They passed beneath him, denouncing vengeance upon theassassin of Arthur Heselrigge! One, who by the brightness of his armorseemed to be their leader, stopped under the tree, and complained hehad so sprained his ankle in leaping t
he wall, he must wait a fewminutes to recover himself. Several soldiers drew toward him; but heordered them to pursue their duty, search the house, and bring Wallace,dead or alive, before him.

  They obeyed; but others, who had gained admittance to the tower throughthe now forced gates, soon ran to him with information that themurderer could nowhere be found.

  "But here is a gay ladie," cried one; "perhaps she can tell of hishiding-place." And at moment Marion, with Halbert, appeared amongst aband of men. The lighted torches which the soldiers held, shone fullon her face. Though pale as monumental marble, the exquisite beauty ofher features, and the calm dignity which commanded from her eyes, awedthe officer into respect and admiration.

  "Soldiers, stand back!" cried he, advancing to Lady Wallace. "Fearnot, madam." As the words passed his lips, a flight of arrows flewinto the bosom of the tree. A piercing shriek from Marion was her onlyanswer. "Hah! my lady's falcon!" cried Halbert alarmed, doubly, forthe fate of his master. A sudden agitation of the branches havingexcited an indefinite suspicion in a body of archers who stood near,with one impulse they had discharged their arrows to the spot.Halbert's ready excuse, both for the disturbance in the tree and hislady's shriek, was prompted and warranted true by the appearance of alarge bird, which the rushing of the arrows had frighted from her nest;she rose suddenly from amongst the branches, and soared away, far tothe east, with loud screams.

  All being again still, Marion hoped that her husband had escaped anyserious injury from the arrows; and turning with recovered composure tothe officer, heard him, with a glow of comfort, reprimand his men fordaring to draw their bows without his orders. Then addressing her, "Ibeg your pardon, madam," said he, "both for the alarm these hot-headedmen have occasioned you, and for the violence they have committed inforcing one of your sex and beauty before me. Had I expected to havefound a lady here, I should have issued orders to have prevented thisoutrage; but I am sent hither in quest of Sir William Wallace, who, bya mortal attack made on the person of the Governor of Lanark's nephew,has forfeited his life. The scabbard of his sword, found beside themurdered Heselrigge, is an undeniable proof of his guilt. Direct us tofind him, and not only your release, but the favor of the Englishmonarch will await your allegiance."

  "I am Sir William Wallace's wife," returned the gentle Marion, in afirm tone; "and by what authority you seek him thus, and presume tocall him guilty, I cannot understand."

  "By the authority of the laws, madam, which he has violated."

  "What laws?" rejoined she; "Sir William Wallace acknowledges none butthose of God and his country. Neither of these has he transgressed."

  The officer replied, "This night he assassinated Arthur Heselrigge inthe streets of Lanark; and that condemns him, by the last declarationof King Edward: Whatever Scot maltreats any one of the Englishsoldiers, or civil officers garrisoned in the towns of Scotland, shallthereby forfeit his life, as the penalty of his crime."

  "A tyrant's law, sir, to which no freeborn Scot will submit! But evenwere it allowed by my countrymen, in this case it can have no hold onmy husband. That he is a Scot, he glories: and not that he maltreatedany Englishman in the streets of Lanark, do I glory; but because, whenhe saw two defenseless men borne down by a band of armed soldiers, heexposed his unshielded breast in their defense; one of the two died,covered with wounds. That the governor's nephew also fell, was a justretribution for his heading so unequal a contest, and no crime in SirWilliam Wallace; for he slew him to preserve a feeble old man, who hada hundred English swords leveled at his life."

  The officer paused for a moment, and then, ordering his soldiers tofall further back, when they were at a sufficient distance, he offeredto take Lady Wallace's hand. She withstood his motion with a reservedair, and said, "Speak, sir, what you would say, or allow me to retire."

  "I mean not to offend you, noble lady," continued he; "had I a wifelovely as yourself, and I in like circumstances, I hope in the likemanner would defend my life and honor. I knew not the particulars ofthe affair in which Arthur Heselrigge fell, till I heard it from yourlips. I can easily credit them, for I know his unmanly character.Wallace is a Scot, and acted in Scotland as Gilbert Hambledon wouldhave done in England, were it possible for any vile foreigner to thereput his foot upon the neck of a countryman of mine. Wherever you haveconcealed your husband, let it be a distant asylum. At present notract within the jurisdiction of Lanark will be left unsearched by thegovernor's indefatigable revenge."

  Lady Wallace, overcome with gratitude at this generous speech of theEnglish officer, uttered some inarticulate words, expressive more insound than clearness, of her grateful feelings. Hambledon continued,"I will use my influence with Heselrigge, to prevent the interior ofyour house from being disturbed again; but it being in the course ofmilitary operations, I cannot free you from the disagreeable ceremonyof a guard being placed to-morrow morning round the domains. This Iknow will be done to intercept Sir William Wallace should he attempt toreturn."

  "Oh! That he were indeed far distant!" thought the anxious Marion.

  The officer then added, "However, you shall be relieved of mydetachment directly." And as he spoke, he waved his sword to them whohad seized the harper. They advanced, still holding their prisoner.He ordered them to commit the man to him, and to sound. The trumpeterobeyed; and in a few seconds the whole detachment were assembled beforetheir commander.

  "Soldiers!" cried he, "Sir William Wallace has escaped our hands.Mount your horses, that we may return to Lanark, and search the otherside of the town. Lead forth, and I will follow."

  The troops obeyed, and falling back through the open gates, left SirGilbert Hambledon alone with Lady Wallace and the wondering Halbert.The brave young man took the now no longer withdrawn hand of thegrateful Marion, who had stood trembling while so many of her husband'smortal enemies were assembled under the place of his concealment.

  "Noble Englishman," said she, as the last body of soldiers passed fromher sight, "I cannot enough thank you for this generous conduct; butshould you or yours be ever in the like extremity with my belovedWallace (and in these tyrannous times, what brave spirit can answer forits continued safety?) may the ear which has heard you this night, atthat hour repay my gratitude!"

  "Sweet lady," answered Hambledon, "I thank you for your prayer. God isindeed the benefactor of a true soldier; and though I serve my king,and obey my commanders, yet it is only to the Lord of battles that Ilook for a sure reward. And whether he pay me here with victories andhonors, or take my soul through a rent in my breast, to receive mylaurel in paradise, it is all one to Gilbert Hambledon. But the nightis cold: I must see you safe within your own doors, and then, lady,farewell!"

  Lady Wallace yielded to the impulse of his hand, and with redoubledhaste, as she heard another rustling in the tree above her head.Hambledon did not notice it; but desiring Halbert to follow, in a fewminutes disappeared with the agitated Marion into the house.

  Wallace, whose spirit could ill brook the sight of his domains filledwith hostile troops, and the wife of his bosom brought a prisonerbefore their commander, would instantly have braved all dangers, andhave leaped down amongst them; but at the instant he placed his foot ona lower bough to make a spring, the courteous address of Hambledon tohis wife had made him hesitate. He listened to the replies of hisMarion with exultation; and when the Englishman ordered his men towithdraw, and delivered himself so generously respecting the safety ofthe man he came to seize, Wallace could hardly prevent a braveconfidence in such virtue from compelling him to come from hisconcealment, and thank his noble enemy on the spot. But inconsideration that such disclosure would put the military duty and thegenerous nature of the officer at variance, he desisted, with such anagitation of spirits that the boughs had again shaken under him, andreawakened the alarm of his trembling wife.

  "Omnipotent virtue!" exclaimed Wallace to himself; "if it were possiblethat thy generous spirit could animate the breast of an invadingconqueror, how soon would the vanqui
shed cease to forget their formerfreedom, and learn to love their vassalage! This man's nobleness, howsoon has it quenched the flame of vengeance with which, when I ascendedthis tree, I prayed for the extirpation of every follower of Edward!"

  "Sir William! my master!" cried a well-known voice, in a suppressedtone, as if still fearful of being overheard. It was Halbert's."Speak, my dear lord; are you safe?"

  "In heart and body!" returned Wallace, sliding from the tree, andleaping on the ground. "One only of the arrows touched me; and thatmerely striking my bugle, fell back amongst the leaves. I must nowhasten to the dearest, the noblest of women!"

  Halbert begged him to stay till they should hear the retreat from theEnglish trumpets. "Till their troops are out of sight," added he, "Icannot believe you safe."

  "Hark!" cried Wallace, "the horses are now descending the craig. Thatmust satisfy you, honest Halbert." With these words he flew across thegrass, and entering the house, met the returning Marion, who had justbade farewell to Hambledon. She rushed into his arms, and with theexcess of a disturbed and uncertain joy, fainted on his neck. Hergentle spirit had been too powerfully excited by the preceding scenes.Unaccustomed to tumult of any king, and nursed in the bosom of fondnesstill now, no blast had blown on her tender form, no harshness had everruffled the blissful serenity of her mind. What then was the shock ofthis evening's violence! Her husband pursued as a murderer; herselfexposed to the midnight air, and dragged by the hands of mercilesssoldiers to betray the man she loved! All these scenes were new toher; and though a kind of preternatural strength had supported herover, when she fell once more into her husband's extended arms, sheseemed there to have found again her shelter, and the pillow whereonher harassed soul might repose.

  "My life! My best treasure! Preserver of thy Wallace! Look on him!"exclaimed he; "bless him with a smile from those dear eyes."

  His voice, his caresses, soon restored her to sensibility andrecollection. She wept on his breast, and with love's own eloquence,thanked Heaven that he had escaped the search and the arrows of hisenemies.

  "But my dear lady," interrupted Halbert, "remember my master must notstay here. You know the English commander said he must fly far away.Nay, spies may even now be lurking to betray him."

  "You are right," cried she. "My Wallace, you must depart. Should theguard arrive soon, your flight may be prevented. You must go now--but,oh! whither?"

  "Not far distant, my love. In going from thee, I leave behind all thatmakes my life precious to me; how then can I go far away? No! thereare recesses among the Cartlane Craigs, I discovered while hunting, andwhich I believe have been visited by no mortal foot but my own. ThereI will be, my Marion, before sunrise; and before it sets, thither youmust send Halbert, to tell me how you fare. Three notes from thine ownsweet strains of Thusa ha measg na reultan mor,** blown by his pipe,shall be a sign to me that he is there; and I will come forth to heartidings of thee."

  **Thusa ha measg na reultan mor, etc., are the beginning words of anold Gaelic ditty, the English of which runs thus: "Thou who art amidthe stars, move to thy bed with music," etc.-(1809.)

  "Ah, my Wallace, let me go with thee!"

  "What, dearest!" returned he, "to live amidst rocks and streams! toexpose thy tender self, and thine unborn infant, to all the accidentsof such a lodging!"

  "But are not you going to so rough, so dangerous a lodging?" asked she."O! would not rocks and streams be Heaven's paradise to me, whenblessed by the presence of my husband? Ah! let me go!"

  "Impossible, my lady," cried Halbert, afraid that the melting heart ofhis master would consent: "you are safe here; and your flight would awakensuspicion in the English, that he had not gone far. Your ease andsafety are dearer to him than his own life; and most likely by his careto preserve them, he would be traced, and so fall a ready sacrifice tothe enemy."

  "It is true, my Marion; I could not preserve you in the places to whichI go."

  "But the hardships you will endure!" cried she; "to sleep on the coldstones, with no covering but the sky, or the dripping vault of somedreary cave! I have not courage to abandon you alone to such cruelrigors."

  "Cease, my beloved!" interrupted he, "cease these groundless alarms.Neither rocks nor storms have any threats to me. It is only tenderwoman's cares that make man's body delicate. Before I was thine, myMarion, I have lain whole nights upon the mountain's brow, counting thewintery stars, as I impatiently awaited the hunter's horn that was torecall me to the chase in Glenfinlass. Alike to Wallace is the couchof down or the bed of heather; so, best-beloved of my heart, grieve notat hardships which were once my sport, and will now be my safety."

  "Then farewell! May good angels guard thee!" Her voice failed; sheput his hand to her lips.

  "Courage, my Marion," said he; "remember that Wallace lives but inthee. Revive, be happy for my sake; and God, who putteth down theoppressor, will restore me to thine arms." She spoke not, but risingfrom his breast, clasped her hands together, and looked up with anexpression of fervent prayer; then smiling through a shower of tears,she waved her hand to him to depart, and instantly disappeared into herown chamber.

  Wallace gazed at the closed door, with his soul in his eyes. To leavehis Marion thus, to quit her who was the best part of his being, whoseemed the very spring of the life now throbbing in his heart, was acontention with his fond, fond love, almost too powerful for hisresolution. Here indeed his brave spirit gave way; and he would havefollowed her, and perhaps have determined to await his face at herside, had not Halbert, reading his mind in his countenance, taken himby the arm, and drawn him toward the portal.

  Wallace soon recovered his better reason, and obeying the friendlyimpulse of his servant, accompanied him through the garden, to thequarter which pointed toward the heights that led to the remotestrecesses of the Clyde. In their way they approached the well whereLord Mar lay. Finding that the earl had not been inquired for, Wallacedeemed his stay to be without peril; and intending to inform him of thenecessity which still impelled his own flight, he called to him, but novoice answered. He looked down, and seeing him extended on the bottomwithout motion, "I fear," said he, "the earl is dead. As soon as I amgone, and you can collect the dispersed servants, send one into thewell to bring him forth; and if he be indeed no more, deposit his bodyin my oratory, till you can receive his widow's commands respecting hisremains. The iron box now in the well is of inestimable value; take itto Lady Wallace and tell her she must guard it, as she has done mylife; but not to look into it, at the peril of what is yet dearer toher--my honor."

  Halbert promised to adhere to his master's orders; and Wallace, girdingon his sword, and taking his hunting-spear (with which the care of hisvenerable domestic had provided him), he pressed the faithful hand thatpresented it, and again enjoining him to be watchful of thetranquillity of his lady, and to send him tidings of her in theevening, to the cave near the Corie Lynn, he climbed the wall, and wasout of sight in an instant.