"May heaven long preserve the valiant Wallace!" was the prayer of every feeble voice, as he left the hall to visit his own wounded, in an upper chamber. The interview was short and satisfactory. "Ah! sir," cried one of them, "I cannot tell how it is, but when I see you, I feel as if I beheld the very soul of my country, or its guardian angel, standing before me--a something I cannot describe, but it fills me with courage and comfort!"

"You see an honest Scot standing before you, my good Duncan," replied Wallace; "and that is no mean personage; for it is one who knows no use of his life but as it fulfills his duty to his country!"

"Oh that the sound of that voice could penetrate to every ear in Scotland!" rejoined the soldier; "it would be more than the call of the trumpet to bring them to the field!"

"And from the summit of this rock many have already heard it; and more shall be so aroused!" cried Murray, returning from the door, to which one of his men had beckoned him; "here is a man come to announce that Malcolm, Earl of Lennox, pa.s.sing by the foot of this rock, saw the Scottish standard flying from its citadel; and, as overjoyed as amazed at the sight, he sends to request the confidence of being admitted."

"Let me bring him hither!" interrupted Kirkpatrick; "he is brave as the day, and will be a n.o.ble auxiliary."

"Every true Scot must be welcome to these walls," returned Wallace.

Kirkpatrick hastened from the tower to the northern side of the rock, at the foot of which stood the earl and his train. With all the pride of a freeman and a victor, Sir Roger descended the height. Lennox advanced to meet him. "What is it I see? Sir Roger Kirkpatrick master of this citadel, and our king's colors flying from its towers? Where is the Earl de Valence? Where the English garrison?"

"The English garrison," replied Kirkpatrick, "are now twelve hundred men beneath the waters of the Clyde. De Valence is fled; and this fortress, manned with a few hardy Scots, shall sink into yon waves ere it again bear the English dragon on its walls."

"And you, n.o.ble knight," cried Lennox, "have achieved all this? You are the dawn to a blessed day for Scotland!"

"No," replied Kirkpatrick; "I am but a follower of the man who has struck the blow. Sir William Wallace of Ellerslie is our chief; and with the power of his virtues he subdues not only friends, but enemies, to his command."

He then exultingly narrated the happy events of the last four and twenty hours. The earl listened with wonder and joy. "What!" cried he, "so n.o.ble a plan for Scotland, and I ignorant of it?-I, that have not waked day or night, for many a month, without thinking or dreaming of some enterprise to free my country--and behold it is achieved in a moment! I see the stroke, as a bolt from Heaven; and I pray Heaven it may light the sacrifice throughout the nation! Lead me, worthy knight, lead me to your chief, for he shall be mine too: he shall command Malcolm Lennox and all his clan."

Kirkpatrick gladly turned to obey him; and they mounted the ascent together. Within the barbican gate stood Wallace, with Scrymgeour and Murray. The earl knew Scrymgeour well, having often seen him in the field as hereditary standard-bearer of the kingdom; of the persons of the others he was ignorant.

"There is Wallace!" exclaimed Kirkpatrick.

"Not one of those very young men?" interrogated the earl.

"Even so," was the answer of the knight; "but his is the youth of the brave son of Ammon; gray beards are glad to bow before his golden locks, for beneath them is wisdom."

As he spoke they entered the barbican; and Wallace (whom the penetrating eye of Lennox had already singled out for the chief) advanced to meet his guest.

"Earl," said he, "you are welcome to Dumbarton Castle."

"Bravest of my countrymen!" returned Lennox, clasping him in his arms, "receive a soldier's embrace, receive the grat.i.tude of a loyal heart!

accept my service, my arms, my men: my all I devote to Scotland and the great cause."

Wallace for a moment did not answer; but warmly straining the earl to his breast, said, as he released him, "Such support will give sinews to our power. A few months, and with the blessing of that arm which has already mowed down the ranks which opposed us, we shall see Scotland at liberty."

"And may Heaven, brave Wallace!" exclaimed Lennox, "grant us thine arm to wield its scythe! But how have you accomplished this? How have your few overthrown this English host?"

"He strikes home, when right points his sword," replied Wallace; "the injuries of Scotland were my guide, and justice my companion. We feared nothing, for G.o.d was with us; we feared nothing, and in his might we conquered."

"And shall yet conquer!" cried Lennox, kindling with the enthusiasm that blazed from the eyes of Wallace. "I feel the strength of our cause; and from this hour, I devote myself to a.s.sert it, or to die."

"Not to die! my n.o.ble lord," said Murray; "we have yet many an eve to dance over the buried fetters of Scotland. And as a beginning of our jollities, I must remind our leader that my aunt's board awaits him."

Lord Lennox understood from this address it was the brave Murray who spoke to him; for he had heard sufficient from Sir Roger Kirkpatrick to explain how the Countess of Mar and her patriot husband came within those walls.

The countess, having arrayed herself with all her powers to receive her deliverer, awaited the hour of his arrival with an emotion at her heart, which made it bound against her bosom, when she saw the object of her splendid toil advancing along the courtyard. All others were lost to her impatient eyes; and hastily rising from the window as the chiefs entered the porch, she crossed the room to meet them at the door.

The Earl of Lennox stood amazed at sight of so much beauty and splendor in such a scene. Lady mar had hardly attained her thirty-fifth year; but from the graces of her person, and the address with which she set forth all her charms, the enchanted gazer found it impossible to suppose her more than three or four and twenty. Thus happily formed by nature, and habited in a suit of velvet, overlaid with Cyprus-work of gold, blazing with jewels, about her head, and her feet clad in silver-fretted sandals, Lennox thought she looked more like some triumphant queen, than a wife who had so lately shared captivity with an outlawed husband.** Murray started at such unexpected magnificence in his aunt. But Wallace scarcely observed it was anything unusual, and bowing to her, presented the Earl of Lennox. She smiled; and saying a few words of welcome to the earl, gave her hand to Wallace to lead her back into the chamber.

**This is the style for state dress worn by n.o.ble ladies in the thirteenth century.

Lord Mar had risen from his seat; and leaning on his sword (for his warlike arm refused any other staff), stood up on their entrance. At sight of Lord Lennox, he uttered an exclamation of glad surprise.

Lennox embraced him. "I, too, am come to enlist under the banners of this young Leonidas."

"G.o.d armeth the patriot," was all the reply that Mar made, while the big tears rolled over his cheek, and he shook him by the hand.

"I have four hundred stout Lennox men," continued the earl, "who by to-morrow's eve shall be ready to follow our leader to the very borders."

"Not so soon," interrupted the countess; "our deliverer needs repose."

"I thank your benevolence, Lady Mar," returned Wallace; "but the issue of last night, and the sight of Lord Lennox this day, with the promise of so great a support, are such aliments that--we must go forward."

"Ay, to be sure," joined Kirkpatrick; "Dumbarton was not taken during our sleep; and if we stay loitering here, the devil that holds Stirling Castle may follow the scent of De Valence; and so I lose my prey!"

"What?" cried the countess, "and is my lord to be left again to his enemies? Sir William Wallace, I should have thought-"

"Everything, madam," rejoined he; "that is demonstrative of my devotion to your venerable lord! But with a brave garrison, I hope you will consider him safe here, until a wider range of security be won, to enable you to retire to Braemar."

As the apostrophe to Wallace, in the latter part of the countess'

speech, had been addressed to himself in rather a low voice, his reply was made in a similar tone, so that Lord Mar did not hear any part of the answer, except the concluding words. But then he exclaimed, "Nay, my ever-fearful Joanna, art thou making objections to keeping garrison here?"

"I confess," replied Wallace, "that an armed citadel is not the most pleasant abode for a lady; but at present, excepting perhaps the church, it is the safest; and I would not advise your lady to remove hence, until the plain be made as free as this mountain."

The sewer now announced the board in the hall; and the countess leading the way, reluctantly gave her hand to the Earl of Lennox. Lord Mar leaned on the arm of Wallace, who was followed by Edwin and the other chieftains.

Chapter XXV.

The Citadel.

During the repast, the countess often fixed her unrestrained gaze on the manly yet youthful countenance of the heroic Wallace. His plumed helmet was now laid aside; and the heavy corselet unbuckled from his breast, disclosing the symmetry of his fine form, left its graceful movements to be displayed with advantage by the flexible folds of his simple tartan vest. Was it the formidable Wallace she looked on, bathed in the blood of Heselrigge, and breathing vengeance against the adherents of the tyrant Edward! It was, then, the enemy of her kinsmen of the house of c.u.mmin! It was the man for whom her husband had embraced so many dangers! It was the man whom she had denounced to one of those kinsmen, and whom she had betrayed to the hazard of an ignominious death! But where now was the fierce rebel--the ruiner of her peace--the outlaw whom she had wished in his grave?

The last idea was distraction. She could have fallen at his feet, and bathing them with her tears, have implored his pity and forgiveness.

Even as the wish sprung in her mind, she asked herself-"Did he know all, could he pardon such a weight of injuries?" She cast her eyes with a wild expression upon his face. The mildness of heaven was there; and the peace, too, she might have thought, had not his eye carried a chastened sadness in its look, which told that something dire and sorrowful was buried deep within. It was a look that dissolved the soul which gazed on it. The countess felt her heart throb violently.

At that moment Wallace addressed a few words to her but she knew not what they were; her soul was in tumults, and a mist pa.s.sed over her sight, which, for a moment, seemed to wrap all her senses in a trance.

The unconscious object of these emotions bowed to her inarticulate reply, supposing that the mingling voices of others had made him hear hers indistinctly.

Lady Mar found her situation so strange, and her agitation so inexplicable, that feeling it impossible to remain longer without giving way to a burst of tears, she rose from her seat, and forcing a smile with her courtesy to the company, left the room.

On gaining the upper apartment, she threw herself upon the nearest couch, and striking her breast, exclaimed: "What is this within me?

How does my soul seem to pour itself out to this man! Oh! how does it extend itself, as if it would absorb his, even at my eyes! Only twelve hours--hardly twelve hours, have I seen this William Wallace, and yet my very being is now lost in his!"