The World's Greatest Books - Volume 7 Part 5

"Woman!" cried he, "on your allegiance to King Edward, answer me--where is Sir William Wallace, the murderer of my nephew?"

She was silent.

"I can reward you richly," he went on, "if you speak the truth. Refuse, and you die!"

She stretched her hands to heaven.

"Blessed Virgin, to thee I commit myself."

"Speak!" cried the governor, drawing his sword. She sank to the ground.

"Kneel not to me for mercy!"

"I kneel to heaven alone," she said firmly, "and may it ever preserve my Wallace!"

"Blasphemous wretch!" cried the governor, and he plunged the sword through her heart.

A shudder of horror ran through the English soldiers.

"My friends," said Heselrigge, "I reward your services with the plunder of Ellerslie."

"Cursed be he who first carries a stick from its walls!" exclaimed a veteran.

"Amen!" murmured all the soldiers.

But next day the governor, with a body of soldiers who had not witnessed his infamous deed, plundered Ellerslie and burnt it to the ground.

During the day Lord Mar was brought from his hiding-place, and taken to Bothwell Castle; but the English seized him and his wife, and they were placed in strict confinement among the English garrison on the Rock of Dumbarton.

An aged retainer carried the awful news of the murder to Wallace in his concealment. For long he was overpowered with agony. Then a desperate determination arose in his mind. "The sun must not again rise upon Heselrigge!" was his thought. He called his followers, and told them of the deed. "From this hour," he cried, "may Scotland date her liberty, or Wallace return no more!"

"Vengeance! vengeance!" was the cry.

That night the English garrison of Lanark was surprised, and Wallace's sword was buried in the body of his wife's murderer.

"So fall the enemies of Sir William Wallace!" shouted his men exultantly.

"Rather so fall the enemies of Scotland!" cried he. "Henceforth Wallace has neither love nor resentment but for her. From now onwards I devote myself to the winning of my country's freedom, or to death in her cause."

_II.--Wallace the Liberator_

Band after band of Scottish patriots flocked to the banner of Wallace-- the banner that bore the legend "G.o.d armeth the patriot," and in which was embroidered a tress of Lady Marion's hair. The making of it had been the labour of Lady Helen Mar, daughter of the earl; admiration for Wallace's prowess, and sympathy with his misfortune had aroused in her--although she had never seen him--an eager devotion to him as the man who had dared to strike at tyranny and fight for his country's freedom.

When her parents had been seized, Helen had escaped to the Priory of St.

Fillans. But she was persuaded to leave the priory by a trick of the traitor Scottish Lord Soulis, whom she hated, and whose quest of her hand had the secret approval of Lady Mar. When the ruffian laid hold upon her, he carried her away with threats and violence; but as Soulis and his band were crossing the Leadhill moors, a small party of men fell suddenly upon them. Soulis was forced to relinquish his prey, and was carried away by his men covered with wounds; while Helen found herself in the presence of a gentle and courteous Scottish warrior, who conveyed her to a hermit's cell near at hand. Without revealing his name he pa.s.sed on his way, declaring that he went to arouse a few brave spirits to arms. Brief as the interview had been, Helen knew when it was ended that she had given her heart to the unknown knight.

As her father and mother lay one dark night in Dumbarton Castle, a fearful uproar arose without their prison--the clas.h.i.+ng of swords, the thud of falling bodies, the groans of wounded.

"There is an attack," cried the earl.

"Nay, who would venture to attack such a fortress as this?" answered Lady Mar.

"Hark! it is the slogan of Sir William Wallace. Oh, for a sword!"

exclaimed the earl.

A voice was heard begging for mercy--the voice of De Valence, the governor.

"You shall die!" was the stern answer.

"Nay, Kirkpatrick, I give him life." The accents were Wallace's.

A battering-ram broke down the prison-door. There stood Wallace and his men, their weapons and armour covered with blood. De Valence, evading the clutch of Kirkpatrick, thrust his dagger into Wallace's side and fled.

"It is nothing," said Wallace, as he staunched the wound with his scarf.

"So is your mercy rewarded," muttered the grim Kirkpatrick.

"So am I true to my duty," returned Wallace, "though De Valence is a traitor to his."

The Countess of Mar looked for the first time upon Wallace's countenance. He was the enemy of her kinsmen of the house of c.u.mmin; unknown to her husband, she had sought to betray him to one of these kinsmen; and now, as this beautiful woman beheld the man she had tried to injure, a sense of shame, accompanied by a strange fascination, entered her bosom.

"How does my soul seem to pour itself out to this man!" she said to herself. "Hardly have I seen this William Wallace, and yet my very being is lost in his!"

Love mingled with ambition in her uneasy mind. Her husband was old and wounded; his life would not be long. Wallace had the genius of a conqueror. Might he not be proclaimed king of Scotland? She threw herself a.s.siduously into his company during the days that followed. At last, with tears in eyes, she confessed her love, thinking, in her folly, that she could move the heart of one who had consecrated himself to the service of Scotland and the memory of Marion.

"Your husband, Lady Mar," he said with gentleness, "is my friend; had I even a heart to give to women, not one sigh should arise in it to his dishonour. But I am deaf to women, and the voice of love sounds like the funeral knell of her who will never breathe it to me more."

He rose, and ere the countess could reply, a messenger entered with news from Ayr. Eighteen Scottish chiefs had been treacherously put to death, and others were imprisoned and awaiting execution. Wallace and his men marched straight to the castle of Ayr, surprised it while the English lords were feasting within, and set it afire. Those who escaped the flames either fell by Scottish steel, or yielded themselves prisoners.

Castle and fortalice opened their gates before Wallace as he marched from Ayr to Berwick; but at Berwick he encountered stout resistance from a n.o.ble foeman, the Earl of Gloucester, who with his garrison yielded only to starvation. Wallace, touched with their valour, permitted them to march out with all the honours of war, and with the chivalrous earl he formed a friends.h.i.+p that was never dimmed by the enmity of the nations to which they belonged.

Soon there came a summons to Stirling. By a dishonourable stratagem of De Valence's, Lord and Lady Mar and Helen had been seized and carried to Stirling Castle, where Lord Mar was in danger of immediate death. Helen was in the power of De Valence, who pressed his hateful suit upon her.

Wallace and his men marched hastily, and captured the town; once more De Valence begged Wallace's mercy, and once more, unworthy as he was, obtained it. But the ruthless Cressingham, commanding the castle, placed Lord Mar on the battlements with a rope round his neck, and declared that unless the attack ceased the earl and his whole family would instantly die. Wallace's reply was to bring forward De Valence, pale and trembling. "The moment Lord Mar dies, De Valence shall instantly perish," he declared.

Cressingham agreed to an armistice, hoping to gain time until De Warenne, with the mighty English host then advancing from the border, had reached Stirling. Next morning this great army in its pride poured across the bridge of the Forth; but the Scottish warriors, rus.h.i.+ng down from the hillsides, with Wallace at their head, swept all before them.

It was rather a carnage than a battle. Those who escaped the steel of Wallace's men were thrust into the river, and land and water were burdened with English dead.

That evening Stirling Castle surrendered, the Scottish prisoners were released, and their places were taken by the commanders of the enemy's host.

_III.--Wallace the Regent_

When the victorious chiefs were gathering in the hall of the castle, Helen looked upon each one with anxious eyes. Would the gentle knight who rescued her be in Wallace's train? Lady Mar turned a restless glance upon her step-daughter. "Wallace will behold these charms," she cried to herself, "and then, where am I?"

Amid a crowd of knights in armour the conqueror entered; and as Helen raised her eyes she saw that the knight of her dream, the man who had saved her from worse than death, was Wallace himself!

"Scots, behold the Lord's anointed!" cried the patriot Bishop of Dunkeld, drawing from his breast a silver dove of sacred oil, and pouring it upon Wallace's head.