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 WALLACE; 
 
 OH, 
 
 THE DAYS OF SCOTLAND'S THRALDOM; 
 51 llnmatirB, 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 ' "We read of one right famous of renown, 
 Of worthly blood, that reigned in this region, 
 And henceforth now I will my process hold 
 Of \rilliani Wallace, as ye have heard it told." 
 
 BtlND HARRt 
 
 VOLUME L 
 
 ADAM & CHARLES BLACK, EDIXBURGH : 
 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, LONDON. 
 
 nt
 
 Printed nr stevi^isox and compa!«t, 
 
 32 IHISTLE STREET, EDIMBCKOH.
 
 8S5 
 U)I553 
 
 \ 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 It is well known that legends abound, in every 
 nook and corner of Scotland, relating to incidents 
 in the life of our great Patriot Hero, which are 
 unnoticed, or only partially alluded to, by those 
 who have recorded his deeds. In fact, from the 
 time when he became openly opposed to the usur- 
 pation of Edward, his career was a series of hair- 
 \- breadth escapes, and of daring adventures, of the 
 most romantic description. Many of these were 
 ^ collected, some sixty years after his death, by 
 ^ Blind Harry, and faithfully chronicled. Others 
 have continued to float down the stream of time 
 "^^from age to age, even to the present day ; and it 
 «^ i^ a fact remarkably illustrative of the hold he had 
 "^ on the imaginations of men, and also of the degree
 
 IV . PREFACE. 
 
 of credit that is to be given to these traditions, 
 that many words are found in them which are ob- 
 solete now in the vernacular, and which the simple 
 shepherd who tells the tale perhaps does not under- 
 stand, yet thinks necessary to the truthfulness of 
 his narrative, and therefore never omits, because 
 it was so handed down to him, in all the freshness 
 and originality of ancient times, through nearly 
 twenty generations, enthusiastic in their admira- 
 tion of, and tenacious of aught that related to, the 
 martyr of their country's freedom. 
 
 The following tale is founded on one of these ; 
 and the author has not deviated materially from 
 the original. Blind Harry says but little of the 
 lady whom Wallace married, but he casually, in 
 different places, mentions facts which tend to cor- 
 roborate the principal incidents in the legend re- 
 lating to her. Thus, in speaking of the elder 
 Heselrig, in connection with the lady, he says — 
 
 " But Heselrig had a matter new begun, 
 And her desired in marriage for his son."
 
 PREFACE. . V 
 
 He also mentions the hills of Cumnock (Cumno) 
 frequently as the resort of Wallace and other 
 patriots, who were obliged to live in concealment ; 
 and it would seem from one expression that they 
 had a fixed residence near Blackcraig Hill. He 
 saysj 
 
 " To the Blackcraig in Cumno part again, 
 Where three months he dwelt in good rest." 
 
 Local circumstances also support the truth of 
 the tradition; for instance, there is a stone in 
 Afton Glen that is called to this day Wallace's 
 Stone. The name of the Celtic lords of Cumnock 
 is altered from the original story, which represents 
 it to have been M'Eierick ; and the M'Eiericks of 
 Kerne, in the neighbourhood, are said to have 
 sprung from the race. This family became ex- 
 tinct only during the last century. 
 
 The Author here, with all humility, endeavours 
 to narrate these unrecorded occurrences in the life 
 of our hero without trenching on the solid ground
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 of the historian. He sometimes, indeed, when 
 describing what has been also noticed by Blind 
 Harry, takes the liberty to adhere rather to that 
 which he has obtained from oral tradition, but 
 without making any considerable variation. With 
 regard to certain phrases and words used by him, 
 he begs to say, that he has endeavoured to give to 
 them the meaning which they bore at the period to 
 which the tale refers. Thus the word " noble" is 
 applied as it was then to all who were descended 
 of families possessed of coat armour. " Lord " 
 was used in its more comprehensive sense also, 
 and had nearly the same meaning as " laird," or 
 " baron" some generations later, when these titles 
 were given in Scotland to all considerable land- 
 owners who were vassals of the Crown, and were 
 not of the peerage. 
 
 PoRTOBELLO, 21 til Dec 1851.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 His stature manly, bold and tall, 
 Built like a castle's battled wall ; 
 Yet moulded in such just degrees, 
 His giant strength seems lightsome ease ; 
 His eye had that compelling dignity ; 
 His mien that bearing haught and high, 
 Which common spirits fear. 
 
 * * * 
 
 A half-clad serf was all his train. 
 
 Lord of the Isles. 
 
 On a day in Spring, about the end of the thir- 
 teenth century, two strangers approached the wa- 
 ter of Irvine, in Ayrshire, near the bridge which 
 then stood between the villages of Riccarton and 
 Gralston. They were evidently master and ser- 
 vant ; for the former had a fishing-rod in his hand, 
 and the latter carried a basket at his back, ob- 
 viously meant to receive the fish that might bo
 
 2 
 
 caught. The master was a youth of little more 
 than twenty, but of a size and strength which few 
 men possess at any age. The symmetry of his 
 form was so perfect, that his height, which ap- 
 proached the gigantic, did not appear remarkable 
 to the casual observer. His face was oval, his 
 nose slightly acquiline, and his eye of a dark grey. 
 His auburn hair curled closely under the cap or 
 bonnet which he wore, and which was graced by a 
 feather, indicating his claim to the rank of gen- 
 tleman ; the beard, of darker hue, was short, cor- 
 responding with his age, and he had a thick fringe 
 on the upper lip. The countenance formed by 
 these features was strikingly handsome, and such 
 as would instantly attract the notice of a stranger. 
 But it was remarked that those whose gaze was 
 directed to his face in admiration of its beauty, had 
 it fixed by a sort of fascination, for which they 
 found it difficult to account, but which they were 
 aware, had no connexion with, or origin in, mere 
 regularity of feature. It was that expression of 
 calm quiescent power, of latent energy of mind, 
 which his aspect bore on all occasions, and which
 
 3 
 
 mysteriously and unwittingly, on his part, exer- 
 cised its influence over ordinary men. His attire, 
 although a plain cloak and doublet of dark-coloured 
 cloth, was cut in the fashion worn by gallants of 
 the day. 
 
 His follower belonged to a class then numerous 
 in Britain, who, in old charters, under the appella- 
 tion of " natives," are mentioned as being trans- 
 mitted from father to son, or from one landholder to 
 another, along with the land. He was clothed in 
 a sort of doublet of coarse woollen cloth, fitting 
 close to his person as far as the haunches, and ex- 
 panding there into the form of a kilt, which reached 
 to the knee ; brogues or sandals of dried cow-skin, 
 with the hair outside, which were laced by thongs 
 of leather to above the ankle, completed his dress. 
 He had no cap nor bonnet, and his legs and arms 
 were bare. His head was protected by a thick 
 sliock of fiery red hair, which fell about his neck 
 and over his ears, and even eyes occasionally, in 
 rude profusion. He trudged along, easily keeping 
 pace with the small steed of his master, until, dis- 
 mounting at the bridge, the latter spoke a few words
 
 ill Gaelic, still the language of the general body of 
 the people in Ayrshire, and proceeded to arrange 
 the fishing-tackle and to begin his amusement. 
 
 After turning loose the well-trained hobler to 
 graze in the meantime, his follower lounged care- 
 lessly over the parapet, watching the progress of 
 the fishing, and only approaching his master when 
 he saw there was something to be deposited in the 
 basket. This had not continued long till the scene 
 was changed by the appearance on the bridge of 
 four men in green, who wore on their barret caps 
 the red cross of St George. They advanced with 
 an air of haughty superiority, to the more humble 
 individual who, nevertheless, kept his seat quietly 
 on the parapet. 
 
 " What do'st stare at, fellow ?" said the foremost, 
 grufily. " Did'st never see an Englishman before 1 
 Prythee, Dick, be this one of the wild Scots, men 
 speak of, who live in the wilderness and feed on 
 nuts and acorns like our hogs \ Sure he doth not 
 dwell among Christians ! " 
 
 " 'Mass," replied Dick, " I think he be, for his
 
 eyes are like a wild-cat's, and his beard, St 
 Anthony ! it would kindle tinder." 
 
 So saying, he put forth his hand cautiously, like 
 one who strokes an animal, of whose peaceful na- 
 ture he is not well assured, to catch the other's 
 beard ; but he drew back with a sort of growl and 
 a menacing gesture, that amused the Southrons 
 exceedingly. In the meantime they had descried 
 the master below. 
 
 " Ho ! Sir Scot, hast any fish f asked the first 
 speaker, who seemed to be their leader. " "Wilt 
 thou come up and give us what thou hast, or shall 
 we take it from this valorous servitor of tinned' 
 
 But no answer came from the fisher. 
 
 " Now this passeth !" cried Watt of Badley, the 
 leader, impatiently. " Dost think, Scot, that a 
 cock's feather in thy cap doth entitle thee to dis- 
 dain an English yeoman, who is thy equal, if thou 
 wert noble, seeing ihou art but a Scot ^ Dost 
 hear 1 Nay, an thou wilt not speak" — 
 
 *' What wouldst thou, Southron," cried a deep 
 stern voice from below ; '* go thy ways and trouble 
 me not."
 
 " Thou be d !'* cried Watt in wrath ; " are 
 
 we to be thus evil entreated in this beggarly coun- 
 try ? Seize the fish," continued he, grasping the 
 beard of the poor fellow who had charge of it, 
 while another laid hold of his basket : but spring- 
 ing alertly to one side, and giving at the same 
 time a tap on the head to his nearest opponent, the 
 Scot rescued both beard and fish from the enemy, 
 and, exclaiming in a strong guttural accent, " what 
 duss ta Soothron want V^ stood on the defensive. 
 
 Watt of Badley, much exasperated, called on 
 his comrades to throw him over the bridge on the 
 head of the man below, " and thus," said he, grin- 
 ning himself into better humour at his own joke, 
 " if we do not kill two dogs with ane stone, we 
 shall at least fell two Scots with one." 
 
 The poor serf, driven to the last extremity, and 
 quite aware that he could expect little leniency 
 from the Southrons, put his back to the parapet, 
 and shouted to his master. 
 
 " Ay, let him come," cried Watt ; " it will save 
 us the trouble of going to him, for we must tcacli 
 him also hew to behave to us. But, comrades, we
 
 shall lose the jest if you cast him not over at once 
 — up with him ! " 
 
 They made a rush upon the man, one dropping 
 before his cudgel, and the rest holding him fast ; 
 and, enraged by a resistance they were so little in 
 the habit of meeting among the poor dispirited 
 people, they were raising him, still struggling, over 
 the parapet, to precipitate him into the stream be- 
 low, when his master suddenly appeared anions'' 
 them, his features strongly excited, and his voice 
 quivering, as he inquired what was the matter. 
 
 ''• Matter ! " exclaimed Watt. " Matter, quotha ! 
 Seest not ? A free-born Englishman struck by a 
 Scotch slave! Over with him, still say I." 
 
 " Thou shalt not slay him. Southron," cried the 
 other in a startling voice. 
 
 *' Shall not ! Hear ye, my mates ^ By St George, 
 this is mutiny ! Hark ye, young man, beware of 
 your words, and eke of your actions." 
 
 They were still intent on throwing over the un- 
 fortunate serf, when his master sprang among them, 
 and catching up their leader, who was a small man, 
 as if he had been an infant, held him high in air
 
 8 
 
 OTcr the river. " Now, Southrons, stand hack and 
 release my follower, or by the might of God, this 
 fellow goes down where he hangs !" 
 
 The Southrons started back in amazement at 
 this sridden and energetic display of extraordinary 
 strength ; but, after a pause, recovering them- 
 selves, they advanced, sword in hand, on the dar- 
 ing Scot. 
 
 " For Christ's sake/' said Watt, in a piteous 
 tone, " assail him not, comrades ! I am helpless as 
 a babe in his hands." 
 
 " He tells you true,'' said the Scot ; " go in 
 peace, and let me go ; I desire not to war with 
 you." 
 
 " Why, then, let there be truce." 
 
 " Truce, truce," cried the other two ; and Watt 
 once more, to his great joy, stood on terra firma ; 
 but scarcely had his feet touched the ground, when 
 one of his comrades, thinking that he was in safety, 
 bestowed as piteful blow, inflicting a gaping wound, 
 on the poor serf's side, and the rest again advanced 
 to the attack. 
 
 Enraged by this treachery, the tall Scot seized
 
 9 
 
 Watt as he was hastening to his friends, and 
 instead of pitching him over the parapet, threw 
 him, as if cast from a battering engine, among 
 them, prostrating one of them, who lay with Watt 
 on the ground apparently dead. The Scot then 
 drew his whinger and attacked the remaining two, 
 who did not stay for his onset ; but, amazed and 
 panic stricken by what they had seen, betook 
 themselves to flight. 
 
 Their antagonist cast but one glance after them, 
 and another on his prostrate foes, then turned to his 
 follower, who, faint and bleeding, supported himself 
 against the parapet of the bridge. His eye had 
 followed his master through every movement, and 
 as he approached him, it lighted up with a joyful 
 expression. 
 
 " My poor Cormack," said the latter, as he pro- 
 ceeded to bind up his wound in the best manner he 
 could, " thou hast had enough in thy day of South- 
 ron injustice. Cheer thee, my friend ! do not droop 
 — art athirst ? I can bring water from the stream." 
 And without pausing for answer he bounded down 
 the bank, bonnet in hand, and returned instant-
 
 10 
 
 ly with it lialf filled with water, which revived 
 the sufferer immediately. He no sooner felt 
 strengthened than he began to feel his master all 
 over, asking many questions to ascertain if he had 
 received any hurt. The other displayed towards 
 him the same kindly feeling, carefully at times ad- 
 justing the rough bandage, partially displaced by 
 motion, and talking to him in his own tongue in a 
 soothing strain. At length he turned to his foc- 
 raen, one of whom shewed some signs of life, but 
 the other seemed to be gone for ever. By rubbing 
 his wet bonnet over the face and neck of the 
 former, he so far recovered him as to get him to 
 sit upright against the parapet and to stare around, 
 but he said nothing. 
 
 " An evil day I fear this is for both of us, my 
 poor Cormack ! How shall I get these Southron 
 tyrants, who listen but to one side of the question, 
 to believe the true nature of this unlucky affair ? 
 How convince mine uncle, who must be at hand 
 now, that I am not the aggressor?" 
 
 He sat down in a desponding mood on a stone 
 near Cormack, and many minutes had not passed
 
 11 
 
 when, roused by the trampling of horses, he looked 
 up and beheld a party advancing towards the 
 bridge, armed cap-a-pie, and bearing on their pen- 
 non the well-known arms of Loudon. At their 
 head rode the stately old chief of that house, who, 
 casting a glance, first at the Scots on the bridge, 
 in which there was a peculiar meaning, and then at 
 the disabled Southrons — " How now," cried he, 
 " what have we here V* 
 
 Watt of Badley had recovered his speech, and 
 he, without the slightest hesitation, accused the 
 Scots of maltreating him and his party ; for he 
 knew the stranger instantly. 
 
 " I was out with my comrades," said he, " by 
 permission of the seneschal, and we were" — 
 
 '* First tell me what thou art. By the sign on 
 thy cap thou shouldst be of the Lord Percy's army." 
 
 " Even so, noble Lord Sheriff," said "Watt, 
 " we are archers of the Lord Governor's band in 
 these parts, and we demand justice on this man, 
 who hath overthrown and maltreated us, as your 
 Lordship may see." 
 
 " Thou art far from garrison, good fellow."
 
 12 
 
 " We had leave for recreation to travel tlic 
 country, conditioned that we reported correctly 
 what chanced on our way." 
 
 " Spies !" muttered the Sheriff to himself, " And 
 now," continued he in a more stern voice, " fair 
 sir, will it please thee to give thy account of this 
 fine business V 
 
 " It is true, my Lord," replied the young Scot, 
 '• that we two were wrongfully attacked by four 
 Southrons, and we discomfited them." 
 
 " Four ! I see but two." 
 
 " The others fled ;" and he gave a correct and 
 particular account of the whole affair — how he 
 avoided a collision as long as it was possible, and 
 how he was driven to resistance by their treacher- 
 ous attack. What he said bore the stamp of truth, 
 and there was a visible movement among the men- 
 at-arms, expressive of this feeling. 
 
 " Archers," asked Sir Ranald Crawford ; " may 
 this be so ?" 
 
 " It is false !" cried Watt. " We did but play 
 with this wold man, when he felled to the eartli 
 one of our number like an ox, and we did then lay
 
 13 
 
 hold to cast him over. 'Mass, an' Scots strike 
 Englishmen after this fashion, where be our dis- 
 cipline ^ And this tall fellow comes me forth from 
 the river, and catches me up like a piece of wood, 
 and hurls me at my comrades ; and so" — Feeling 
 ashamed at the implied issue of four being defeated 
 by one, he paused abruptly. 
 
 " And so this malignant and most foolish Scot 
 had the temerity to assail four archers of Lord 
 Percy's band, and to discomfit them. In faith, it 
 was an evil deed, and shall be inquired into. 
 Meanwhile, fitting care must be had of thee and 
 thy comrade, if he be not past remeid." Then 
 calling a squire, he ordered him to convey them to 
 Galston Castle, with a request that they might be 
 well tended by its lord, that being the nearest place 
 where such good attendance could be obtained. — 
 " For you, young sir, you wend with me ; take thee 
 to thy hobler ; and one of you must have this 
 wounded serf on his crupper. Canst thou ride so, 
 poor fellow?" 
 
 " Yea, my Lord," said Cormack, " I am better." 
 " Then take them as prisoners, caught redhand
 
 14 
 
 by the Sheriff, to our own strength of Loudon." 
 So saying, he turned slowly away, while the 
 squire and two yeomen were preparing to obey his 
 orders, and the rest of the band closed in round 
 the captives, placing Cormack behind a yeoman 
 of their number. 
 
 Sir Ranald spoke not until the Southrons were 
 on the way to Galston, when he gave the word to 
 set on. A look of intelligence went round among 
 the men-at-arms, who were all gentlemen of his 
 own blood, frequently, throughout the proceedings 
 which have just been narrated, and they were no 
 sooner fairly on their journey than whispered 
 greetings passed between them and the stranger, 
 which were soon silenced, however, when their old 
 Chieftain, who rode on before, stopped abruptly, 
 and addressed him. 
 
 " Now, William Wallace," said he, with an ex- 
 pression of countenance in which nature struggled 
 sadly with an assumed dignity of demeanour — 
 
 '' Nay, uncle," cried the young man earnestly, 
 "as God shall judge me, my tale is sooth." 
 
 " I believe thy tale," said the Sheriff, gravely.
 
 15 
 
 " Do not imagine I would suppose thee to be 
 capable of a gross falsehood. Seest thou, Will of 
 Drongan, how imprudent and thoughtless this 
 kinsman of ours will ever be? What, in the 
 fiend's name, threw thee in the way of these men ? 
 What hadst thou to do there?" 
 
 " Nay, my Lord, do him justice ; and rather ask 
 what in the devil's name brought these cowardly 
 espials so near the castle of Ayrshire's Sheriff," 
 replied the one he addressed. 
 
 '' For me," replied Wallace, " I can easily tell 
 what brought me so near the way side — it was 
 even to apprise mine honoured uncle, ere he 
 reach Loudon, that an armed band hath been 
 prowling and prancing within his bounds this live- 
 long day from three of the morn." 
 
 " Sayest thou in my bounds ! Broken men, 
 doubtless, and thieves they must be. Bore they 
 no pennon ? " 
 
 '■ That of a knight, men say, under the Bed 
 Cross of England." 
 
 " How ! it is impossible. The Lord Governor 
 dare not do me this injury !"
 
 16 
 
 Sir Ranald pulled up his horse abruptly, and 
 shewed considerable agitation on hearing this 
 news. " Couldst thou learn no more, fair 
 "nephew f 
 
 'J Nothing. It was about noon the seneschal 
 sent this intelligence to Riccarton. He hath 
 placed careful espial on them, and doubtless news 
 will soon be obtained." 
 
 " Two of you prick on before, look sharply and 
 carefully round, and at sight of any armed men, 
 return instantly," said the Sheriff ; and at the word 
 two men-at-arms galloped off in front. 
 
 They were now within a short distance of 
 Loudon Castle, and on the road by which any men 
 from the garrison must return to Ayr. The day 
 was waning fast also ; and Sir Ranald had just 
 satisfied himself that he would likely fall in with 
 these intruders, whoever they might be, when the 
 horsemen returned on the gallop, and reported a 
 plump of spears advancing within half a mile; and in 
 a few minutes a turn of the road shewed the whole 
 party, but no banner of any sort was displayed by 
 them. As the two bands approached each other,
 
 17 
 
 the meu-at-arms carefully closed their yisors, and 
 the yeomen looked to their bows. 
 
 " They halt," said Sir Eanald ; " go forward, 
 AVilliam of Drongan. Greet them fairly, and cour- 
 teously inquire who they be who have honoured 
 Loudon by their presence." 
 
 Drongan's sarcastic countenance, as he delivered 
 the message, probably turned the really courteously 
 meant greeting into a sneering inquiry as to what 
 they were doing there — at least the reply of the 
 person who advanced to meet him, arrayed in the 
 helmet and spurs of a knight, would imply that 
 it was not well received. 
 
 " Who are we 1 Doth the Lord of Loudon wish 
 to know 1 Then tell him we are the men of King 
 Edward, lawful sovereign of England, Ireland, and 
 Scotland (emphasizing the last word), and we have 
 been discharging our duty, by seizing some refrac- 
 tory subjects, whose tongues have been too frankly 
 telling their minds in this neighbourhood. Perhaps 
 the Sheriff may assist in judging and punishing the 
 malapert knaves," added he with a sneer. 
 
 " You are here, Sir Knight," answered Drongan,
 
 18 
 
 " on tlie lands, and within the jurisdiction of a 
 free baron, and one who, moreover, is not only a 
 loyal subject, but in high authority under the 
 King. Surely, then, it is but scant courtesy to 
 deny to my lord the right of judging his o^yn vas- 
 sals and tenants ; and if you have seized and are 
 carrying off as captives some of them, it were vain 
 to deny that you are doing an act of great dis- 
 courtesy." 
 
 " Thy message is done. Sir Squire," replied the 
 Southron, with a lofty look ; " I shall talk with thy 
 Lord." 
 
 Old Drongan cast a scowl of hatred on the 
 group, and turned, without the slightest gesture 
 of courtesy, to deliver the words of the stranger to 
 his Chief. 
 
 The strange knight instinctively drew up his 
 form with hauteur, as he perceived the old Baron 
 put his horse in motion to approach him ; but the 
 manners of the times did not permit of disrespect 
 from youth to age, and the Southron felt himself 
 obliged, however disinclined, to meet him. 
 
 " Sir Knight," began the Sheriff, " I greet thee
 
 19 
 
 well ; the officer of King Edward is welcome 
 within my bounds." 
 
 " I salute you, my Lord of Loudon ; and I pray 
 you to bear in mind that I seek no matter of dis- 
 pute between us ; but, peradventure, what hath 
 chanced may be displeasing to you, as it hath been 
 to your follower ; true it is, I have, in my duty, 
 taken traitors to King Edward within your barony, 
 and by the special command of the Governor." 
 
 The old man bent his head slightly, as if bowing 
 to the authority just named, but his face was 
 flushed, and his eye flashing. 
 
 " Yet methinks," said he, " the Lord Governor 
 hath but little faith in me to dispatch a force for 
 this purpose, without speaking of it, seeing it was 
 but yester morn I saw his Lordship, and that 
 his young knight is to do what I myself should 
 have done, both as Sheriff and liegeman to the 
 King." 
 
 " But, perchance, noble Sheriff, the Lord Gover- 
 nor might think the task disagi^eeable to you," re- 
 plied the Southron, with a glance to a follower near,
 
 20 
 
 which plainly said, I will play him a little, and 
 tickle this polite but pertinacious old baron. 
 
 The Sheriff was not so blind. " I pray thee 
 let me see those prisoners, that I may know what 
 men of mine have so far forgotten their duty." 
 
 " Nay," quoth the Knight, taken rather by sur- 
 prise, " this may exceed my warrant." 
 
 In the mean time, the two bands had approached 
 gradually so near to each other, that this conver- 
 sation between the leaders was overheard by 
 many in both, and among the rest by young Wal- 
 lace, who, unarmed as he was, and indifferently 
 mounted, seemed a stranger in the Loudon train. 
 
 As the different bands came nearer to each 
 other, the excitement increased, and nearly the 
 whole of the Southrons, in eager anticipation of a 
 fray, had left the rear, and the care of the prison- 
 ers, to occupy a position better calculated to sup- 
 port their party. The Scots, under similar cir- 
 cumstances, could not now recollect that their 
 kinsman was in a sort of nominal captivity, and 
 thus Wallace passed unheeded to the rear of the
 
 21 
 
 Southrons, where he found a few men, and to his 
 surprise a woman, mounted each behind a horse- 
 man, and firmly secured to him. One of the former 
 he recognised as a yeoman of considerable sub- 
 stance on the estate, who was highly esteemed by 
 Sir Ranald. Wallace returned immediately to his 
 uncle, who was still in conversation with the Eng- 
 lish Knight, and informed him of what he had seen. 
 Greatly astonished, and somewhat wroth, was the 
 Sheriff, when he again accosted the Southron. 
 
 " Fair Sir," said he. " I wish, in all courtesy, 
 to conduct our discussion, but I learn there is a 
 woman among the captives ; and, certes, it is hnown 
 to you that women are not to be made prisoners 
 for treason. It were shame to chivalry should 
 such practice hold." 
 
 *• How!" cried the other, " I marvel to hear 
 the wise Sheriff say so ; for many men hold them to 
 be at the bottom of all treason." 
 
 " Thy wit, young man, may not pass with me. 
 Prythee, in one word, let me see this woman, other- 
 wise I must pray that thou shalt release her." 
 
 " That may not be. I shall let no man meddle
 
 22 
 
 with gear intrusted to me by my liege ; not even 
 the Sheriff of Ayr." 
 
 As he said this, there was a toss of the head, 
 and an expansion of the nostril, which did not 
 escape the notice of Sir Ranald's men, and a 
 movement occurred among them which was in- 
 stantly checked by him. 
 
 "Stand fast, Crawfords," cried he — his form more 
 erect and his mien more animated at the apparent- 
 ly near approach of battle. " Stir not ! And thou, 
 Childe of Torringan ! keep thy lance erect, or, by 
 the soul of Thorlongus, thou shalt feel the weight 
 of mine !" Then in a lower tone to Drongan, — 
 *' Keep them steady. Will ; shew a good front to 
 these loons, while I talk to their captain." He 
 returned to the Southron, and the rebuked one, a 
 mere youth, who, in the ardour of the moment, had 
 couched his lance, sat, like all the rest, as if im- 
 moveable. 
 
 " Another sharp word from yon ill-favoured fel- 
 low," thought Drongan, who knew his old Chief 
 well, '^ and we shall be on them like greyhounds 
 from the glip."
 
 23 
 
 The force of the English might numerically be 
 the same as that of the Scots, but they were all 
 men-at-arms ; while half of the other party were 
 mounted yeomen, vrho had instructions, in affairs 
 of this sort, not to come to close battle, but to 
 take advantage of the ground, and ply their bows 
 on the flanks as well as front of the enemy. They 
 wore only jacks and iron head-pieces, and of course 
 could not maintain an equal fight with men cased 
 in armour. Nevertheless they were, like the other 
 half of his train, picked men, and Sir Eanald had 
 no fears of the issue, if nothing could avert a 
 skirmish. 
 
 On rejoining, to renew his conference with the 
 Southron leader, a voice, which he recognised in- 
 stantly, exclaimed from their rear, " Here is rank 
 villany, my lord of Loudon. Villany ! men and 
 maidens reft from home without cause told." 
 
 These words immediately put to flight the stately 
 and ceremonious courtesy which the old Sherift' 
 had hitherto maintained towards his opponent. 
 Turning fiercely to the latter, who observed a sullen 
 doggedness of demeanour —
 
 24 
 
 " Thou hast maltreated my men," said he, stern- 
 ly, " mayhap harried my lands, and wilt not listen 
 to my words. Now, shew me the warrant of the 
 Governor, his signet, or any token that can empower 
 thee to do this deed ; and tell me why thy men are 
 ranged under no pennon, whilst thou hast golden 
 spurs on thy heels. Explain these things, or, by 
 our Lady of Kyle ! thou shalt know there is a She- 
 riff to do justice, and a Lord of Loudon to avenge 
 his own wrongs ; even thy name thou hast not 
 told." 
 
 " My name," said he, " is Arthur Heselrig, 
 and I am of Lord Percy's household, lately arrived 
 from Northumberland. So much I tell the She- 
 riff, as due, less to him than myself; for the rest, 
 I shew my warrant to no Scot that lives ; and for 
 marching without a pennon, why it is my humour. 
 You have my answer." 
 
 Wallace had watched the proceedings with in- 
 tense interest. Knowing the sound judgment and 
 great caution of his uncle, he had no fears, until 
 he saw that his anger was fairly roused; then he 
 thought it time that he should give him a practical
 
 25 
 
 lesson, who had so often lectured his nephew on 
 the propriety of forbearance with tlie English ; for 
 he knew that no youth could be more impetuous 
 than the old man in his wrath, and he knew also 
 that his life and lands might be at hazard on the 
 present occasion. His plan was instantly formed. 
 He had been going backward and forward so fre- 
 quently during the parley, that the men in charge 
 of the prisoners scarcely noticed him, so eagerly 
 did they watch the proceedings in front. Drawing 
 a small dagger, he contrived gradually to insinuate 
 himself among the Southrons and their captives, 
 and, watching his opportunity, to sever the bonds 
 that fastened the latter to the former — his fiuger 
 on his lip was sufficient hint to the prisoners to 
 remain silent and motionless. There was now a 
 considerable distance, perhaps a hundred paces, 
 between them and their friends. Suddenly, Wal- 
 lace gave the word and the example by seizing at 
 once the man who had charge of the female, and 
 pulling him to the ground, while she took his place 
 in the saddle without a moment's pause. Now 
 came the difficult part of the mancBuvre. Wallace
 
 26 
 
 had purposely dragged the man down so forcibly 
 tliat he lay stunned and motionless. He then 
 pushed on to assist his countrymen, who at the 
 same moment with himself hurled with all their 
 strength each the man before him to the ground, 
 but with different success. Two or three of the 
 Southrons gained their feet, and drew their swords 
 to attack them, but Wallace was soon among them 
 with his whinger, and the Scots got instantly clear 
 off. " Now," cried he, " let every man, with what 
 speed he may, find his own way home, for we must 
 not ride in company." 
 
 The whole passed so quickly, that the liberated 
 Scots were fairly entered into the intricacies of the 
 surrounding wood, ere their enemies took the 
 alarm. There Avas a rising ground between, which 
 partly obscured the proceedings, and the whole 
 energies of all were concentrated on what they be- 
 lieved to be an approaching combat. The men of 
 Loudon knew the ground, and had no difficulty in 
 finding their way. Meanwhile the 'Squire of the 
 English band, an elderly man, wlio had been 
 scanning attentively the opposing force, anxiously
 
 27 
 
 addressed his leader, — *' I pray you, Sir Arthur, 
 be not offended that I give unasked counsel in this 
 matter. I fear me the old Sheriff hath the right, 
 hut that is less than the chance of discomfi- 
 ture;' 
 
 " Discomfiture !" said Heselrig scornfully. " Wo 
 douhle their number, for I count the rascal 
 yeomen as nothing." 
 
 " Then, will it please you, regard those men-at- 
 arms: they are knovrn to he of the flower of 
 Westland chivalry. Their very attitude, still as it 
 is, doth speak of desperate daring; and their 
 Spanish barbs, well trained like themselves, seem 
 to shoot living fire from their motionless eye- 
 balls." 
 
 " Pshaw 1 " replied the Knight impatiently ; 
 *' dost think to scai'e me with their prowess ? Are 
 our men untried ?" 
 
 " Xay, then," said the Squire, " what shall we 
 gain by victory ? We risk good fame in a bad 
 cause, and the shame of defeat besides, to obtain 
 nothing." 
 
 " What wouldst thou have me do ?" exclaimed
 
 28 
 
 Heselrig. " Submit to this man, and yield my 
 captives ? By St Dunstan, thou art over bold to 
 propose it!" 
 
 " The maiden only ; that will suffice." 
 
 " I will not, by Heaven !" persisted the Knight^ 
 starting away. " PIo, St George for merry Eng- 
 land !" — but ere he could give the word, a sound 
 fell on his ear that completely turned the current 
 of his ideas. 
 
 " The prisoners escape — they are off" into the 
 wood !" 
 
 " Chase — chase !" cried the 'Squire hastily. 
 
 '' Bring them back on your lives," exclaimed 
 Heselrig. 
 
 This hastily-uttered exclamation, taken advan- 
 tage of by the wary 'Squire, drew off more than 
 half his band ; and Heselrig, furious at the risk of 
 losing the prize, couched his lance. " Old trai- 
 tor," cried he, " thou shalt abye it." The Sheriff, 
 with an air of dignity, waved his hand, as if to 
 prevent him, but the Southron still keeping his 
 attitude of attack, Drongan lowered the point of 
 his weapon, and instantly the lance of every Craw-
 
 29 
 
 ford was laid in rest. It had been Heselrig's last 
 if he had ran that course. 
 
 " Hold ! madman," cried the Sheriff. " I com- 
 mand you all, of both sides, to forbear this idle 
 strife ; and it is perhaps well for you, Sir Arthur 
 of Heselrig, since so thou art named, that I can 
 with honour now leave thee unassailed. Thou art 
 completely in my power. Raise thy lance-point," 
 continued he more sternly, '' or thou art but a dead 
 man." 
 
 " It is true, by Heaven,'" muttered Heselrig, 
 casting a glance round and seeing how badly he 
 was supported, then throwing his spear away in 
 sheer vexation. Sir Kanald approached him with 
 a smoother brow, and he spoke in a milder tone 
 when he again addressed him, 
 
 " Young man, thou hast committed an insult 
 and an outrage on one who is older likely than thy 
 father, if thou hast one. This I pass lightly, see- 
 ing thou now unarmed and at my mercy ; but if 
 what thou hast done doth reach the ears of the 
 Lord Governor, thou mayest have a worse matter,
 
 30 
 
 and a severer judge to answer. Keep tliy own 
 counsel ; with me this affair endeth here.'* 
 
 " It is nobly spoken," said Heselrig, surprised 
 out of his usual sullenness of deportment. 
 
 " Thou mayest recal thy parties ; they will not 
 succeed." 
 
 So saying, the stately old man saluted the Knight 
 courteously, and gave the signal to his band to 
 proceed, as if nothing had happened, — heedless 
 alike of the angry and disappointed looks among 
 tliem, and the expression of surprise that dwelt on 
 the countenance of Heselrig. 
 
 Each horse of his train, when set in motion, 
 made a bound and a caracol, as if indemnifying itself 
 for the exercise it had lost ; and, ere the party was 
 fairly on the road, the trumpet of Heselrig sounded 
 a recal, much to the relief of the Sheriff, for he was 
 by no means without apprehension that the captives 
 would be overtaken, seeing the start was so short. 
 To be sure^ the wood was tangled, and the paths 
 known to them only. 
 
 '' Thou seest, Will," said he to his principal 
 esquire, Drongan, " if they recovered our folks
 
 31 
 
 nothing but a tailzie would save our credit, and do 
 the poor people right. Now neither is necessary ; 
 and besides, if I had not spoken kindly to that un- 
 knightly Knight, he would have told the business 
 in his own way to the Governor ; and with this 
 new bruilzie of William on the bridge, by my faith, 
 tlie worst would be soon believed of us all ; so, in 
 regard to Heselrig, thou wilt see, bygones had 
 better be bygones." 
 
 " You are right, doubtless, Sir Hanald ; in fact, 
 I see you arc ; but it grieved us sadly to let the 
 lurdane off unscaithed." 
 
 " Thou dost speak like a hot-headed youth, 
 Vrill of Drongan ; that speech had been well from 
 the springald of Torringan, but is all unlike thee. 
 Thou knowest we are in a perilous position — sus- 
 pected, watched, and pointed out as disaffected, 
 we cannot be too careful. Certes, I do not expect 
 to keep long my present office, hereditary though 
 it be, and shorn of its rights and privileges by this 
 Governor, Avho hath taken on himself half my 
 duties and my powers. To -morrow, I must wend 
 my way again to the Lord Percy, to smooth over
 
 32 
 
 this matter of my nephew, who, I see, is really not 
 to be blamed ; but it will be a hard task to get it 
 credited. What hath become of him? Where 
 is he V enquired the Sheriff, hastily. 
 
 " Gone with Simon of Hilton,*' replied the 
 nearest man-at-arms. " The wounded serf saw him 
 when they escaped." 
 
 "I see it all," exclaimed the Sheriff; "the 
 blessing of Heaven is on him ! He hath saved us 
 from a great misfortune. That youth is far 
 beyond all men of twice his years in wisdom — 
 his like is not 1"
 
 33 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Thus lived the Scots in threllasje, 
 Both sympill and of hie parage } 
 And of gret lords some thae slwe, 
 And sum they hangit, sum thae drewe ; 
 Aud sum ther put in hard preson ; 
 Bot ony laws or encheson, 
 * * * 
 
 His fadder was a manlie Knicht, 
 His modyere was a ladie briclit. 
 
 Blind Harrij. 
 
 On the following day the old Baron of Loudon 
 went with his usual retinue to the Lord Governor, 
 in order to explain the unfortunate rencounter of 
 his nephew with the archers ; and, if it should he 
 necessary, to vindicate his conduct in regard to the 
 affair Avith Hesclrig. In his absence let us give some 
 account of him and his household. 
 
 Sir Ranald Crawford w^as in his sixty-fifth year, 
 
 but still stout and hale, with a florid complexion, 
 B 2
 
 34 
 
 and hair like the snow of Arran. As a baron of 
 large possessions, the head of a powerful clan, 
 and hereditary Sheriff, he was of high rank and 
 great influence in the country. The latter office 
 had, however, as he himself insinuated, been sadly 
 reduced since the English got possession of his dis- 
 trict. Like other men of note, nevertheless, he 
 found it necessary to suit his high spirit to the 
 times, and conform to the saw, " what cannot be 
 cured must be endured." The grinding exactions 
 of the new government, and the insolence of its 
 underlings, often drove him to the very verge of 
 violent remonstrance, which would have, in all pro- 
 bability, resulted in his ruin. He considered the 
 office of Sheriff as identified with himself and his 
 lands, and no more dreamt of giving up one than 
 the other, until it had been told him that he only 
 held it during the pleasure of the Governor. This 
 was precisely a surprise as great as if he had 
 been told that his father's estate was wanted 
 for a dependant of the Lord Percy. Incidents of 
 daily occurrence, arising out of disputes between 
 the invaders and his countrymen, in which, right or
 
 35 
 
 wrong, the former expected his favour, increased 
 his disgust; and he would gladly have been re- 
 lieved of the judicial power he enjoyed, if he thought 
 he could be so with honour, for the political as- 
 cendency, contingent on his place, had long passed 
 to King Edward's representative. 
 
 His desire was to live among his own people, 
 and he was so much beloved by the family of which 
 he was the head, that although many members of 
 it were themselves lesser barons of considerable 
 property, they willingly did the suit and service of 
 retainers, or rather followed the Celtic practice of 
 devoting themselves to their Chief in all things. 
 Hence, in his train were the eldest sons of tlie 
 principal families of the clan, Drongan being the 
 only proprietor, who, from long habit and early in- 
 timacy with Sir Ranald, preferred being with him 
 constantly, to living on his own estate. There 
 were others of the name, whose lands held of sub- 
 jects superior, to whom, in accordance with feudal 
 law, they owed military service, but who, neverthe- 
 less, on all occasions of emergency, ranged them- 
 selves under the banner of Loudon ; thus discharg-
 
 36 
 
 ing a clnty hoth. to tlieir feudal lord and tlie head 
 of tlieir blood, which was occasionally onerous and 
 severe ; but the latter claim was generally held 
 paramount, if both the Chiefs required their ser- 
 yiccs at the same time. It was besiderj an excel- 
 lent school for youths of good birth, — the She- 
 riif's bands haying been long proverbial for their 
 prowess and military excellence in all essential 
 points. The nature of his office required that lie 
 should have such men about his person ; and it 
 was his pride and his pleasure to hear the praises 
 of the heads of his own tribe, with vdiom he was 
 surrounded. They were thus, though under strict 
 discipline, like the sons of the old Chief; and those 
 who were old enough, were confidential friends and 
 advisers, constituting a sort of council, when he 
 felt himself under any difficulty. 
 
 lie had taken the oath of allegiance to Edward, 
 when all hope of successful resistance was lost, like 
 other leading men, who saw no other means of saving 
 their families from total ruin, but submission to 
 the overwhelming torrent of armed warriors, Avhich 
 the self-aggrandising policy of that sagacious but
 
 37 
 
 cruel and unscrupulous monarcli had poured into 
 his unhappy country. But like the rest of his 
 countrymen, Sir Eanald Crav,ford keenly felt his 
 injuries, and ardently longed for the time when the 
 galling yoke could be thrown off. Hitherto all 
 attempts to remove it had only ended in increasing its 
 weight. The food of the inhabitants was devoured 
 by their enemies ; and it was only when his soldiers 
 themselves began to suffer from famine, that the 
 invading tyrant recognised the want and starvation 
 which decimated the wretched objects of his oppres- 
 sion, and sent supplies, less to relieve them, than 
 the instruments by which he maintained his grind- 
 ing power over them. 
 
 The better classes were oppressed by taxation, 
 and every sort of exaction which the necessities of 
 his army, or the rapacity of his officers, suggested. 
 Although there were many of the latter, perhaps a 
 majority, who revolted from the cruel policy they 
 were called on to carry out, the system estab- 
 lished by their King was the result of deliberate 
 calculation, and imposed as best adapted to break 
 that spirit of independence which he had expe-
 
 ^8 
 
 rienced among the Scots ; and consequently those 
 who departed from it, either in the letter or spirit, 
 were not considered faithful subjects, and were soon 
 singled out and marked by the royal displeasure. 
 It would seem that the opposition Avhich Edward 
 met with in Scotland only riveted his energies 
 more firmly and zealously to the permanent con- 
 quest of that country ; and that, as the time passed 
 on without his object being completely attained, 
 his mind acquired that bent which became identi- 
 fied with the very nature of the man, and the loss 
 of Scotland then appeared to him in the same light 
 as the loss of part of England. Hence his fury 
 at the opposition oflTered incidentally by one party 
 or other, who attempted to free themselves from 
 his oppressive measures, and the relentless cruelty 
 with which he punished those patriots as rebels 
 who fell into his hands. The directions he gave 
 regarding the inscription for the tomb, where his 
 bones were to be buried after travelling with the 
 army, then on its way to invade Scotland, shews 
 clearly the savage animosity of his disposition to- 
 wards that hapless country.
 
 39 
 
 That his actions might be justified on the broad 
 grounds of philanthropy, and the general good of 
 the island of Britain, inasmuch as they tended to 
 unite, in one common interest, two nations of the 
 same blood, who were now, from conflicting in- 
 terests, opposed to each other, is a question apart 
 from what we are now considering. A conquered 
 country, joined to another by force of arms and 
 not of free will, and under the guarantee of 
 treaties, is not likely to be at accord with that 
 which has forced the junction on it, and Ireland, 
 even at that time, furnished an illustration of this 
 fact. But when the object was self -aggrandise- 
 ment, as in King Edward's case it clearly was, and 
 when the interests of the subdued territory were 
 not taken into consideration, saving in so far as 
 doing so might promote his own views, it cannot 
 be denied that it was merely one of those attempts, 
 too common in the middle ages, to bend the weak to 
 the m\\ and purposes of the strong. 
 
 In the conquest of Wales, and the happily abor- 
 tive but strenuously followed up resolution to annex 
 Scotland to England, we see nothing but the same
 
 40 
 
 lust of dominion, which, in the person of Edward's 
 ancestor, converted a feudatory duke into a 
 powerful and independent King, and bent a nume- 
 rous and free people to the yoke of comparatively 
 few foreigners. It was this numerical superiority, 
 as well as the larger extent of territory, which 
 saved England from the fate of Ireland, and made 
 the conquest rather a change of rulers than of the 
 laws and customs of the people. 
 
 Edward was fond of saying that he was " King 
 of the Saxons and Normans," and entitled to hold 
 sway wherever, within the seas of Britain, those 
 races were found — a doctrine savouring rather 
 of patriarchal than feudal rule — but one which 
 suited his purpose better, perhaps, than any other ; 
 for the leading nobles of Scotland were also sub- 
 jects of the English crown, and unquestionably 
 their position, as owing allegiance to botli kings, 
 was anomalous and precarious in the extreme ; for, 
 let them take either side, in a war between the two 
 countries, they were sure to incur the risk of losing 
 the possessions they held in that country which 
 they had resolved to oppose themselves to. Hence
 
 41 
 
 the apparent facility with which Edward, as the 
 stronger, gained over the Barons of Scotland to 
 sign the famous bond of allegiance, called Eag- 
 man's Roll. The chief Scottish Barous of that 
 age were almost all of Norman or Flemish de- 
 scent. A perusal of the names contained in the 
 list just mentioned will satisfy any one of this. 
 
 Among the smaller barons or gentry, many 
 were of Celtic or Saxon origin ; but it is difficult 
 now to ascertain what names belong to the one and 
 what to the other ; for, when sirnames came into 
 general use, about the period of which we are treat- 
 ing, those of native or Saxon blood, who possessed 
 lands, adopted the Norman practice of assuming 
 for their family names those of their estates re- 
 spectively. Hence the difficulty of tracing to the 
 root any family beyond the thirteenth century, 
 unless it happens to be prominently mentioned in 
 old charters. In them, too, we find men of high 
 rank merely designed (if they had no sirname) by 
 their countries ; such as Flandrenses, or Flamma- 
 ticus, or Wallensis. The earlier public writs of 
 the Scottish Kings shew, in their address, the mixed
 
 42 
 
 nature of the population, — This being, " to all true 
 men, Avhethcr Scottish or Irish (Erse), French or 
 English." The latter constitutino- the bulk of the 
 population, which, from the days of Malcolm Can- 
 more, and under the encouragement of succeeding 
 princes, especially David the First, poured into 
 every part of Scotland, displacing the thin and 
 scattered aboriginal people, whose pastoral habits, 
 and aversion to settled industry, unfitted them for 
 being active instruments in introducing those im- 
 provements, which the sagacious David saw were 
 essential to the well-being of his country. The 
 extent of land granted by that Prince to Saxons 
 and Normans, who removed with their servants and 
 slaves, and sometimes a host of adventurers besides, 
 is astonishing. From it we are led to believe, 
 that most of the land, south of the Forth and 
 Clyde, belonged to the Crown, including the Scot- 
 tish territories in England, in the homage for which 
 the monarchs of the latter found their excuse for 
 claiming the fealty of Scotland. 
 
 It is probable that the Celtic landholders, pre- 
 vious to the eleventh centui'y, had no well defined
 
 43 
 
 right to their estates ; and, before that era, it is 
 certain that, save in the Lothians, the population 
 of the wliole country was purely Celtic ; and, being 
 given to hunting and pastoral pursuits, it is not 
 perhaps too much to assume, that each district 
 was possessed (as in the Highlands at a later pe- 
 riod) by a separate tribe, to whom the land was in 
 common, the Chief merely being considered a sort 
 of nominal proprietor of the whole, and holding it 
 for the beneficial use of his clan. It would seoni, 
 then, that when the Scottish Kings resolved to 
 introduce a more laborious people into the low 
 country, they granted such districts to southern 
 strangers, merely giving the principal men of the 
 original possessors, each a suitable portion, and 
 transferring the bulk of the tribe along with the 
 land, as slaves, very nearly in the same manner as 
 the Spaniards appropriated to each other the In- 
 dians of the American continent some centuries 
 later, and as the Saxons had previously done in 
 England with the conquered British. In the pro- 
 gress of time the serfs, escaping from a state of 
 bondage to which they were unaccustomed, and
 
 44 
 
 many of their chiefs, also, disliking the society of 
 strangers, who affected to despise them as an infe- 
 rior people, sought the more remote districts of 
 the country, which were still unexplored hy Gothic 
 enterprise ; and the Highlands, or Isles, eventually 
 became in Scotland precisely what Wales was in 
 England, the refuge and stronghold of the ancient 
 British race. 
 
 That a large proportion both of leading men 
 and serfs remained in the low countries, and be- 
 came amalgamated with the strangers, losing 
 their language and their identity as a differ- 
 ent race, gradually and imperceptibly, among the 
 Saxons by whom they were surrounded, is sliewn 
 by the characteristic features which their descend- 
 ants possess, and which differ considerably from 
 those of their English neighbours. In the ancient 
 kingdom of Strathclyde, comprehending all the 
 country between Clyde and Sol way, and which con- 
 tinued to be independent till the tenth century, the 
 distinguishing features of the original inhabitants 
 were perhaps more strongly marked during the 
 thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, than in districts
 
 45 
 
 even in the neighbourhood of the Highlands. The 
 Erse language was spoken in Ayrshire in the 
 seventeenth century. 
 
 No charters having been granted in Scotland 
 during the Celtic period of her history, we cannot 
 say positively that slavery did not exist among the 
 tribes previous to the reign of the third Malcolm ; 
 but we know that such a state of society is de- 
 cidedly against the principle on which patriarchal 
 government is based, and according to which the 
 Chief rules, as representing the common ancestor 
 of the whole clan, the members of which, however, 
 low in wealth, being of his own blood and race, are 
 equally noble and free with himself. We observe, 
 however, soon after the Norman conquest of Eng- 
 land, when the Saxons began to settle, or colonize, 
 as Chalmers styles it, the South of Scotland, and 
 to spread gradually over the whole of it, that serfs 
 are recognised under the denomination of " natives" 
 in the earliest charters. The very phrase would 
 imply that, in some districts at least, the natives 
 were not only the slaves of the strangers, but 
 the only race held in slavery by them at that
 
 46 
 
 time; and that the Avords '* native" and "serf 
 wore in such places synonymous. It is known 
 that the Saxons in England, from an early period 
 of their settlement there, not only held the lower 
 classes of their countrymen in bondage, but carried 
 on a considerable export trade in slaves to the 
 continent, and even to Ireland. There can be 
 little doubt, therefore, that they introduced the 
 custom into the North ; and accordingly we find in 
 charters of a later date, the expression changed 
 from cmn omnibus nativis, to cum omnibus Jiomi- 
 nihits, when the Saxon bondsmen increased in 
 number so much as to equal or exceed the native 
 serfs, by importations from the South. 
 
 We know from authentic history, that the intro- 
 duction by King Malcolm the Third of English 
 settlers and Norman adventurers, produced serious 
 disunion among the Scots, and that the dislike of 
 the aboriginal people to their manners and cus- 
 toms rose to such a height in the subsequent reign 
 of Edgar, that the latter expelled all Southrons 
 from his country. But the tide of immigration, 
 thus checked, acquired additional force subsequent-
 
 47 
 
 ly, restoring those who had been driven out of their 
 possessions, and carrying along with it, under more 
 auspicious sovereigns, a continually increasing in- 
 flux of people from the South, who were destined to 
 eff"ect in Scotland what their ancestors had accom- 
 plished in England eight centuries earlier, though 
 not without a blending of the new and old races, 
 which did not take place in the southern part of the 
 island. 
 
 The preceding observations seem necessary to 
 elucidate some incidents in the course of our tale, 
 and some traits in the leading characters of it. 
 
 The family of Wallace seems to have been nu- 
 merous and of considerable rank in the 12th and 
 1 3th centuries. The members of it appear in the 
 Kagman Boll, and in many charters of that period, 
 under the various designations of " Le AValeis," 
 " Walense," or when Latinized, " Wallensis." 
 " Ricardus Wallensis" was an extensive proprietor 
 of Kyle ; and several others, who are similarly de- 
 nominated, appear as witnesses to royal and other 
 charters. It is generally believed in the West of 
 Scotland that they descended from the ancient in-
 
 48 
 
 • 
 
 habitants of Valentia, Eegnum Cumbrense, or 
 Stratliclyde, as the territory was variously designed 
 by the Homans first, and afterwards by Saxons and 
 Britons. Whether the term Wallensis has been 
 drawn from the more ancient denomination given 
 to that division of the country when it was a Roman 
 province, or has been adopted by the Saxons, as 
 significant in their language of the position in which 
 the Britons stood to them as strangers, may be 
 difficult to determine. There seems to be little 
 doubt, however, that the word was used originally to 
 denote the country and not the family of the indivi- 
 dual, just as others, who had yet no family name, 
 were distinguished from their neighbours. Richard 
 the Wallensian, and Theobald the Fleming, had 
 the distinguishing epithet applied to them for the 
 same reason. The latter adopted the name of his 
 barony, and became Douglas ; the former adhered 
 to that of his country, in the same manner as the 
 ancestor of the Wigton family chose to be known, 
 and his posterity also, by the sirname of Fleming. 
 William Wallace was the second son of Sir 
 Malcolm of Elderslie and Auchinbothey, in Ren-
 
 49 
 
 frewshire. His earlier years had been passed at 
 home ; but as he grew to manhood, his principal 
 residence was at his uncle's castle of Riccarton, in 
 Ayrshire. Born to no fortune but that of every 
 younger son of a good family, which in those days 
 was generally a sword and a position in front of 
 the paternal band, he had nevertheless been better 
 educated than the sons of lesser barons generally 
 were at that period. The teacher of Malcolm's 
 sons was a cousin of his own, who had been born to 
 higher fortunes, and whose family had been ruined 
 by the change in the population. He was known 
 by the designation of Father Angus, he being a 
 priest who lived in quality of chaplain, tutor, or 
 hanger on, in the household of his kinsman. To 
 this man's dislike of the strangers, who during the 
 preceding century had encroached so much on the 
 liberties and possessions of the ancient inhabitants, 
 much of the hostility which William exhibited at a 
 very early period of his life, to the English, was 
 owing ; and it grew with his growth until it broke 
 out when he was a mere boy at Dundee, where he 
 killed a youth of high connexions in a fray, arising
 
 50 
 
 out of some insult thrown out by the latter on the 
 Scots. This incident, which at the time caused 
 much excitement among the Southrons, was, how- 
 ever, after a little while, forgotten in the stirring 
 events of the period, especially as the offender 
 withdrew himself from the spot, and lived in seclu- 
 sion at Eiccarton. It had the effect of confirming 
 that hatred of oppression and love of liberty which 
 had been so sedulously implanted in his mind from 
 childhood, and of fixing his attention on the actions, 
 general and individual, of his country's enemies. 
 Not long afterwards, too, an occurrence of a differ- 
 ent nature made a lasting impression on him. 
 
 That love of action which distinguished him at 
 all times, found a proper object in subduing and 
 subjecting to the power of man the wild horses that 
 ranged the forests of Riccarton, the breeding and 
 rearing of which constituted with his uncle, in com- 
 mon with Scottish landholders in general of that 
 age, a principal source of revenue. In following 
 this pursuit, he met with a kindred spirit in Cor- 
 mack, the son of Gilcolumb, the chief keeper of the 
 mares and their colts which roamed the wide woods
 
 51 
 
 of Riccarton. Wallace was delighted Tvith the 
 courage and dexterity of the youthful serf, who 
 mauifested on the other hand a great fondness for 
 his young master ; and they continued to follow 
 their sport with unremitting assiduity, but with 
 such reckless impetuosity, that Gilcolumb was un- 
 der the necessity of suggesting to his Lord some 
 restraint on the youths. — " For," said he, " they 
 will be maimed or killed against the trees, seeing 
 that they pause not, especially young Master, to 
 back the wildest three-year-old for the first time, 
 and start him off with but a hair tether for bridle ; 
 and my Lord may lose both a nephew and a serf." 
 
 " Truly, friend Gilcolumb," replied old Riccar- 
 ton, '* thou art careful of my property and my 
 blood ; natheless, it is better that William's acti- 
 vity and energy yent themselves on my colts than 
 on the Southrons in these perilous times ; and thou 
 knowest he is prone also to that sport ; but we shall 
 counsel him, and do thou rule thy son." 
 
 " Surely ! but Heaven forefend that I should op- 
 pose me to the will of the 'Squire. Young though 
 he be, there are few who like to stand in his way." 
 
 mVERSITY OP 
 tiUNOlS LIBRARY
 
 52 
 
 " Thou sayest truly ; he hath the soul to dare, 
 and the body to perform aught," replied Riccarton, 
 with a smile ; " but he is ever kindly to his country- 
 men and loving to his friends." " No one can say 
 aught else ; but there seemeth to me somewhat in 
 his face that doth say to other men, ' I will be obey- 
 ed,' just as if he had been made to rule over them ; 
 and although he hath never yet spoken to me, save 
 words of kindness, and I am not fearful generally, 
 I would not for any thing I know cross him in 
 aught." 
 
 " Certainly," thought Eiccarton to himself, as 
 he glanced at the daring and rather savage aspect 
 of his serf, " the power he holdeth over thee shew- 
 eth that he is not an ordinary youth." 
 
 One day, it chanced that Wallace was occupied 
 with his favourite amusement in a part of the forest 
 through which the highway passed, when a party 
 from the garrison at Ayr appeared on the road. 
 He and Cormack had caught, and were just in the 
 a<jt of preparing to mount, a couple of very beautiful 
 young animals, whose symmetry instantly arrested 
 the attention of the Southrons, to one of whom, on
 
 53 
 
 demanding to know the price of them, Wallace re- 
 plied that they belonged to the Lord of the land, 
 and were not to he sold. 
 
 The leader of the party, at these words, dis- 
 mounted, and giving his horse to an attendant, 
 walked directly up to that which Wallace held by 
 the rude halter that he had put on it. " Know, 
 Scot," said he, " that when an Englishman want- 
 eth aught in this country, he doth not ask if it be 
 for sale, but what is the price. Wilt not tell ?" 
 
 " Surely you will not take what is another man's, 
 he unasked !" 
 
 Without deigning to reply, the Southron, who 
 was looking with increased admiration at the horse, 
 seized the halter, and Wallace, enraged at his want 
 of courtesy as he was, yet warned him against 
 mounting with the long spurs he wore. 
 
 " He is untamed, I tell thee !" cried he. 
 
 " Thou art malapert," said the other, as he 
 vaulted on the bare back of the animal, and, in 
 doing so, j>ricked him smartly. The wild creature 
 bolted off like an arrow, and before going a hundred 
 paces, brought his rider's head in contact with a
 
 54 
 
 bough whicli crossed the path he took, and which 
 sent him lifeless to the ground. 
 
 It hajipened that Gilcolumb arrived on the spot 
 just as the English had raised their leader, and 
 discovered that he was no more. The herdsman, 
 whose countenance wore a scowl of deep meaning, 
 and whose eyes regarded rather the young horse, 
 which had run against a tree, and been dashed to the 
 ground, irremediably disabled, than the slain man, 
 attracted the attention of the strangers, one of 
 whom exclaimed in wrath, " Seest thou, slave, what 
 hath been done by thy folks "?" — aiming at the 
 same time a blow at the man's head with the 
 butt of his spear, while the rest crowded round. 
 Gilcolumb's hand sought the hilt of his woods- 
 man's knife, as he stepped aside to avoid the 
 blow. 
 
 " Impudent knave ! " cried another of the party 
 on seeing this action : and, letting his spear fall 
 doAvn by his side, without another word, transfixed 
 the unfortunate herdsman. The whole party then, 
 without listening a moment to the deep and men- 
 acing exclamations of Wallace, or the wild lamenta-
 
 55 
 
 tion of the son, scampered off on their route, with 
 the hody of their countryman. 
 
 This event not only impressed Wallace more 
 deeply than ever with the wrongs of his country, 
 but increased his kindly feeling towards Cormack, 
 and the class to which he belonged, — a death 
 among whom could be accomplished with as little 
 consideration, and with as much impunity, as that 
 of any other valuable domestic animal. The 
 Lord was paid for the loss he sustained generally, 
 in cases of slave homicide, and that was suffi- 
 cient atonement — always provided there was no 
 slight of, or insult to, the authority of the owner ; 
 for although the latter might be indifferent to the 
 fate of a poor wretch whom he scarcely knew as an 
 appendage of his domain, he could by no means 
 put up with the affront implied in an open assault 
 on one under his protection, and in this fact lay 
 the chief security of the serf from ill-usage by 
 strangers. The Southrons, however, at the present 
 period, were exceptions to the rule, and whatever 
 they did must be endured, — appeals to the higher 
 authorities being supported only by Scottish evi-
 
 56 
 
 deuce, wliich could not carry weight against 
 English testimony, however incorrect. 
 
 The condition of this numerous class — the lowest 
 step in the social ladder — occupied the mind of 
 Wallace ever after that transaction; and the 
 knowledge of his country which he had acquired, 
 and of its later history, enabled him to draw a 
 conclusion in favour of the serfs, which all the 
 Saxon blood he inherited from a series of Gothic 
 grandmothers, could not counteract or remove.
 
 0/ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Come hither ! hither, my stout yeoman ! 
 
 Byron- 
 
 On the day after Sir Ranald's journey to the 
 Castle of Ayr, he held a long and secret conference 
 with William of Drongan, and a few more experi- 
 enced persons of his kindred, on the subject of his 
 visit to the Governor. 
 
 " Fortunately," said he, "I was, as I expected, 
 
 the first to inform the Governor of this unlucky 
 
 affair — those two archers being still at Galston, 
 
 if they be in life, which I doubt of one at least 
 
 — and the Lord Percy being uncommonly well 
 
 pleased, my story passed with him tolerably ; nathe- 
 
 less, it was not difficult to see there was a cloud on 
 
 his brow, and at the last he told me plainly that 
 
 c 2
 
 58 
 
 there were many things against this nephew of 
 mine, ' of which,' quoth he, ' I am avised the 
 Sheriff knoweth naught. But it is right that he 
 should be kept out of men's sight, and specially 
 away from Englishmen, lest more mischief arise.' 
 I could not hut agree with this, which is just my 
 own opinion. ' Then,' said the Governor, ' here is 
 what seemeth meet to me :— The hills between 
 Cumnock and Galloway hare lately become the 
 resort of broken men and thieves, who plunder 
 the loyal subjects in their neighbourhood of goods 
 and gear, slaying those who resist ; and this hath 
 grown lately to such height, that it became neces- 
 sary to intimate to Earl March, who is Lord of 
 Cumnock, that he must garrison and fortify his 
 castle there ; or submit to have his vassals and 
 tenants despoiled by these wild Scots ; upon which 
 the noble Earl hath entreated his Highness to send 
 some men, of whose good conduct he is well assured, 
 to keep his Castle of Cumnock, and maintain order 
 in these parts, which petition the King hath re- 
 mitted to me, saying withal, that the men of Cos- 
 patrick are much engaged in other quarters in his
 
 59 
 
 Highness' service. Wherefore, it doth seem meet 
 and proper, that a man of noble condition, and 
 also hereditary ruler, such as the High Sheriff, 
 should now carry out the royal order; and I was 
 about to send a special messenger to Loudon, when 
 thou didst come so opportunely. Now this young 
 man thou mayest take to Cumnock, where he will 
 find occupation of a more useful sort and safer, 
 than those brawls in which he is too often en- 
 gaged.' " 
 
 " 0, no man," continued Sir Ranald, " is more 
 courteous than the proud Lord, as men style him, 
 when he is politic also ; now, kinsmen, I must obey 
 him — must garrison this stronghold of Cospatrick 
 for a space ; but what think ye may be the object ? 
 Plenty there are and to spare, in this shire, of 
 King Edward's men; it is no lack of Southrons 
 which hath dictated this measure." 
 
 " Why," said Crawfurdland, " doubtless he 
 would have these troubles suppressed, without using 
 the forces of the King ; he Avould let the Scottish 
 dogs worry each other." 
 
 " Or he would have the district around Loudon
 
 60 
 
 cleared of some Crawfurds, who, he doth fear, hatch 
 treason there," said Drongan, " under the sugges- 
 tions of William Wallace, as his faithful Arthur of 
 Heselrig doubtless hath reported." 
 
 " I think he hath not, for his own sake ; for no 
 word was spoken concerning it," said Sir Ranald. 
 " It boots not what his motive be, my duty is obe- 
 dience," continued he, shrugging his shoulders. 
 " We must raise our men, and set out forth- 
 with. Reginald shall go first ; to-day the Percy 
 will send craftsmen to deal with the walls, which 
 arc somewhat out of order." 
 
 " Were it not better," said Crawfurdland, 
 " that Reginald should take comuiand at Cum- 
 nock. He hath Lochnorris and Torringan at hand, 
 both wise in council." 
 
 " No," replied Sir Ranald, after a pause ; " no, 
 John, I am the person expected to go, and, after 
 all, the distance is but short ; we can keep our 
 eyes eyerywhere. I do doubt that Heselrig. I 
 like not his yisagc ; and, since he hath cast his 
 eyes on Simon of Hilton's buxom daughter, I have 
 fears that he will cndeayour to carry her off a
 
 61 
 
 second time ; and, I bethink me, it will be good, 
 in order to baulk him, to have her removed. Regi- 
 liald shall go with a small band in a couple of days. 
 I shall follow him after arranging matters here; 
 with him shall go William AVallace. You see, 
 kinsmen, since we last conferred on this subject, 
 our anxiety hath not diminished. He is getting 
 more and more involved with the Southrons, and 
 how to keep him within bounds, passeth my under- 
 standing." 
 
 " Truly," replied Drongan, " this scheme is a 
 wise one, if there is nothing else behind it. Give 
 his love of action fair scope, and it will divert him 
 from brooding over English oppression." 
 
 " Unless," said Crawfurdland, " he may find in 
 those with whom he is to cope some cause of sym- 
 pathy. Certes, he is a wonderful youth, and will 
 one day manifest his prowess among them, I trust, 
 with better chance of success than now." 
 
 " Nay," said Sir Eanald ; " there is something 
 beyond common in him altogether. No man, be 
 his age or station what it may, doth not feel the 
 power of this youth over him, when in his presence ;
 
 62 
 
 and, after that tuilzie on the bridge, it moved my 
 mirth to see that the knave ever kept liis eyes on 
 liim, while speaking to me, as if he was under the 
 spell of a warlock. But, sooth to speak, his love 
 of adventure is such, it is known to you, that he 
 doth delight in going under strange disguises ; and 
 I doubt not, many of these bruilzies we have heard 
 of lately have beginning in him ; and this, it would 
 seem, the Lord Governor doth know, or at least 
 suspect also. As in duty bound, I did stand up for 
 the lad, placing it all to the wild thoughtlessness of 
 youth ; yet I could see he was not satisfied. But, 
 of a surety, if he doth know so much, he may know 
 also, that the young man, though respectful to his 
 elders and his betters, is not to be easily swayed 
 by them from any settled purpose." 
 
 " He hath never seen William?" enquired Dron- 
 gan. 
 
 " Unless it may be in attendance on me, how 
 could he 1 and then he could not note him." 
 
 " Nay, if he hath seen him at all, a man like 
 Percy would read his character in his counte- 
 nance. Ko one can behold this stripling without
 
 63 
 
 being moved to gaze long and attentively on 
 him." 
 
 In fact, the secret spell whicli Wallace cast over 
 men's minds could scarcely be better exemplified 
 than in the case of his elderly kinsmen instinctively 
 lowering their voices, as they did at present, when 
 speaking of him. The disguises to which Sir 
 Ranald alluded, and the celerity with which he 
 moved from place to place, presenting a sort of 
 ubiquity, tended also to envelope him with a 
 strange and j^eculiar kind of mystery that took hold 
 of the imagination of his countrymen. 
 
 In consequence of the plans formed by this con- 
 clave, the young Knight of Loudon, with Wallace, 
 a few esquires of his father's household, and a suit- 
 able band, set off for Cumnock Castle to strengthen, 
 or rather to renew the garrison there;,; for the fol- 
 lowers of Cospatrick had been some time with- 
 drawn, with the exception of a number just suffi- 
 cient to man the walls. That little word, Cospa- 
 trick, implied in those days a tremendous stretch 
 of feudal power, both in England and Scotland. 
 Sprung from the kings of ancient Northumbria,
 
 64 
 
 these haughty Earls inherited the pride along with 
 the blood of a line of princes and possessions which 
 were equal to those of some sovereigns. But their 
 eminent position exposed them to the suspicion 
 of both nations ; and at this particular period, 
 Edward, anxious to keep the Earl steadfast to his 
 interest, had detained him near his person, and 
 contrived to withdraw most of his followers from 
 those Scottish districts which he chiefly distrusted. 
 Meanwhile, the Baron of Loudon bethought him 
 of his encounter with the party of Heselrig, and 
 deemed it necessary to make a tour or perambula- 
 tion of his estate, in order to make himself master 
 of every thing that had occurred in connection with 
 this extraordinary visit. In his progress, he met 
 with many instances of wanton destruction of pro- 
 perty, and heard complaints of harsh usage from 
 a number of his tenantry ; but no particular out- 
 rage had been committed, except on the household 
 of Simon of Hilton, a liber firmarius (yeoman), 
 as the old charter i^hrase was, who rented one 
 large farm from Sir Banald, and was proprie- 
 tor of another, which owned Loudon as feudal su-
 
 65 
 
 perior, and where this worthy yeoman resided. 
 His dwelling was a long low range of building 
 covered with thatch, having in the middle a little 
 elevated turret, like a pigeon- house of modern 
 times, which served to distinguish the house from 
 the granges of other tenants who were not small 
 proprietors, and for sleeping apartments for his 
 daughter and himself. The rest was used as a 
 dormitory for the menials, free and bond, on the 
 farms, excepting the kitchen-hall, which was com- 
 mon to all as a sitting and eating room. Simon, 
 a stalwart carle of the Baron's age, met his lord 
 at the door with a hearty salutation, which denoted 
 the pleasure he felt on seeing him. 
 
 *' By St Andrew ! I am e'en glad to see thy 
 broad face again, friend Simon," said the latter. 
 " Thou wert but in poor case when we last fore- 
 gathered." 
 
 " God's bennison on him that freed me from that 
 thraldom ! and his malison on the misleared ne'er- 
 do-weel that caused it !" cried Simon. " Ah, my 
 Lord, I see not the gallant Esquire who did me that 
 good turn where he should be, ever at the side of
 
 66 
 
 his uncle," — scanning the train eagerly as he 
 spoke to discover him to whom he alluded. 
 
 '•' But thou must tell me all, man ; I come to 
 learn everything that chanced between thee and 
 the Southrons; and beshrew me, Simon, if thou 
 hast foolishly given them offence, but thou shalt 
 fall from my favour." 
 
 *' And I should e'en deserve to do so," replied 
 the other readily, " if I were guilty of such folly ; 
 but hear my tale : — Some ill-looking hallanshakers 
 had been noted before as strangers among us, who 
 came and went, without any of us so much as sus- 
 pecting them of a bad errand ; but we now think 
 they must have been spying knaves from the 
 English castle, in Scottish doublets and bonnets. 
 Well, if this be sooth, they must have told some 
 good romaunt to the Southron Knight ; for my 
 Lord may trust me, that no man of his will hold 
 open mouth to men he knoweth not in these 
 unchancy times — we be too well trained for that. 
 However that be, down came this Knight with his 
 riders from the Cumnock hills, as I gathered from 
 their own words, where they had been, belike, on
 
 67 
 
 similar business, and like a raid of sworn lifters, 
 broke in upon us. I warned the Seneschal time- 
 ously, but ere he could gather a head, they had 
 done the mishief my Lord hath just visied. They 
 galloped up to my poor house so suddenly that my 
 daughter, who by mishap was at the door, had not 
 time to escape within ere she was espied. Now, 
 this young Southron, with reverence be it spoken, 
 is like many more of them, as yery a knave in re- 
 gard to women as may be ; so, without more ado, 
 he jumps me from his horse, and giveth chase to 
 the affrighted girl. Her screams drew me to the 
 spot, and I found her struggling in the arms of 
 this riever. My Lord maj blame me, but well- 
 nigh mad with rage and vexation, I made my rung 
 rattle off his steel head-piece till he loosened his 
 hold, and my own knaves coming behind me with 
 their staves, at the same time, as if to back me, an 
 onslauojht was made on us forthwith. We were 
 surrounded, some of us severely hurt, and in short 
 space they had bound us as we were found on that 
 day — my poor child distracted, and I nearly as 
 bad ; for what could belooked for but dishonour and
 
 misery from such an outrage, and by Southrons ? 
 ' I will teach thee, churl,' said the Knight, ' to re- 
 sist lawful authority ;' for they ever bring in the 
 King's name as an excuse for their lawless deeds, 
 to terrify poor people. * I will teach thee to fall 
 on thy knees at sight of an English crest, thou re- 
 bellious carle that thou art.' 
 
 " Caution left me in that hour of woe, and I 
 fear me I cursed bitterly his King and him ; but 
 then he was busied in soothing his female captive ; 
 and an old 'Squire, who seemed not so bad, in a 
 gentler voice, besought me to calm myself, ' and,' 
 said he, ' all may yet be well ; but if thou ravest 
 after that fashion, thou and thy daughter are but 
 lost.' I had just sense enough left to keep quiet, 
 on hearing his good counsel ; and I shall think bet- 
 ter of the Southron that he had such a humane 
 follower, and of the 'Squire himself, that he hath 
 been the means of keeping me from rousing a sleep- 
 ing tiger, and it would rejoice me to requite him." 
 
 " Thou wert ever a good-hearted fellow, Simon, 
 and thou art right here. Southrons are not all 
 oppressors ; they are like ourselves ; but they must
 
 69 
 
 obey their cruel King — there lieth the evil. Thou 
 art sure no foolish gossiping hath been among 
 you — quite sure ? " 
 
 " By my halidom am I, they dare not ; for, 
 sooth to say, they would be but between the deil 
 and the deep sea ; they would be harried by the 
 Southron first for so prating, and then punished 
 in such sort as they would deserve, by their Lord. 
 So it must be but a fool and an innocent that 
 would babble in that fashion." 
 
 Sir Ranald smiled at this blunt speech, and in- 
 quired for Simon's rescued daughter. 
 
 '* Come hither, Alice, shew duty and obedience, 
 and gratitude withal for deliverance, to thy liege 
 Lord," cried Simon, as he turned round, and pre- 
 sently a very pretty young woman appeared before 
 them, with an obeisance to Sir Eanald, and an 
 arch smile on her blushing face. 
 
 " How farest thou, child ^ " asked the good old 
 Lord ; " well, I see, and of thy fright ne'ertheless ; 
 for the hue of menseful maiden is on thy cheek, 
 and that betokeneth health of mind and body 
 both."
 
 70 
 
 " Right well ; thanks be to my Lord, who reft us 
 from the felon hold of the Eiever ! " 
 
 " That thou owest to young William of Elders- 
 lie ; but it is a deed that might do honour to the 
 skill and wisdom of more mature years. By the 
 rood, thou art a brave lass ! and it seemeth to me 
 now, by the sparkle in thine eye, that thou wouldst 
 thyself do battle in defence of thine honour. She 
 hath indeed shot up into a goodly form, friend Simon, 
 and I marvel not that roving eyes do rest on her. 
 Alack! for the day when Loudon cannot protect 
 the innocent maidens of his people from such foul 
 wrong ! " 
 
 "AYoe worth the evil times!" responded Simon, 
 with a groan ; " it is not long since a foeman 
 dared no more to appear within our bounds, 
 than a wolf in the inner court of the Castle ; but 
 now, if we resist, we are esteemed rebels, though 
 but in defence of ourselves ; and if we submit, we 
 are spoiled of our goods, and our females blurred 
 with vile dishonour. I know not even now where 
 to send my child, for here she is not safe a day." 
 " There is one place, my friend," replied the
 
 71 
 
 Baron, with a look of proud indignation ; " where 
 even King Edward's power will not assail her. 
 Thou shalt send her to the Castle. She shall he 
 numbered among my Lady's maidens, and as safe 
 shall she be there as if there were no loose rievcrs 
 in the world." 
 
 Alice, at these words, with a quick and yet re- 
 spectful motion, seized the hand of her Lord, and 
 raised it to her lips. 
 
 " Thanks, thanks," she said, in a choked voice, 
 the tears falling from her eyes the while, and then 
 turned away to hide her emotion. 
 
 " The poor thing is overcome with joy," said 
 Simon, his own voice faultering ; " for, trutli to 
 tell, she hath grieved and lamented every hour, 
 stout though her heart be, since that grievous day, 
 in fear of the future ; and she may well be proud 
 too, for the honour of being bower maiden to such 
 high dame is e'en too much for a poor yeoman's 
 daughter." 
 
 *' Enough ! enough! fetcli her down this very 
 day; we know not what an hour may bring forth " 
 
 Cormack, the serf of Riccarton, being still under
 
 treatment of the leech, was detained at Loudon, 
 and from the known attachment to him of Wallace, 
 great attention was paid him by all. In fact, 
 Wallace, while at Riccarton, had gradually en- 
 croached on the rights of his uncle there to the 
 services of this young man, by employing him on 
 his own errands, without, however, ^ withdrawing 
 him altogether from his employment as a herds- 
 man of mares in the forest, or improving, in any 
 respect, the rude appearance which he inherited, 
 and which had been maintained by his mode of 
 life, that secluded him from the more civilized even 
 of his own class. Loudon, pleased with the devo- 
 tion manifested by the poor fellow to his nephew, 
 proposed to Riccarton to keep him at his Castle, 
 and have him trained to the use of arms, with a 
 view to his enfranchisement, if he conducted him- 
 self properly, which the latter granted readily, 
 saying, he would gladly make such a present to 
 William Wallace.
 
 73 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A hugje giaiit, stifte and sterke. 
 All foul of limb and lere ; 
 Two goggling e'en, like fire farden, 
 A mouthe from eare to eare. 
 
 Old Ballad. 
 
 The Castle of Ciimnock was situated near the 
 base of that range of mountains which separates 
 the county of Ayr from Galloway, and was built 
 to keep in check, and as a strongliold against, the 
 roving bands of freebooters, whom the latter sent 
 forth oceasionally to plunder the scattered popula- 
 tion of this upland district. The hills were thickly 
 covered with primeval forest, and most of the level 
 country also. Indeed, this may be said of by far the 
 greater portion of Ayrshire in those days, which 
 is fully proved by the elder charters of the Burgh 
 of Ayr, in which the fact is casually mentioned.
 
 74 
 
 The Earl of March had not long before obtained a 
 grant of the district, but as yet no branch of his 
 potent family had been planted there; and the 
 want of such powerful aid in keeping that danger- 
 ous region quiet, was keenly felt by Lord Piercy ; 
 but the policy of his Prince, and that suspicion 
 which the injustice of his own proceedings engen- 
 dered in the latter, kept Cospatrick at a distance 
 even from his Scottish estates on the English bor- 
 der. Those hills, which have just been mentioned, 
 form almost an amphitheatre round the spot where 
 the Castle stood, rising high towards the east and 
 south ; the Glen of Afton, seen from a distance, 
 " yawns" in that portion of the range literally 
 " like a gash on warrior's breast." In those 
 days, however, it was so densely wooded as to be 
 nearly imperceptible when looked at from the ele- 
 vated ground on the north. 
 
 The Castle had been repaired, and the Craw- 
 furds were in full possession of it ; and they had 
 sallied forth several times in search of the depre- 
 dators, but had not been successful, although the 
 complaints of the people were still frequent and
 
 75 
 
 loud. One day a group was engaged in eager 
 conversation in a corner of the great Hall, when 
 Wallace drew near to them. The principal speaker 
 was an old Harper of Cospatrick, who had been 
 sent there probably to cheer, in their solitude, the 
 few Lothian men who occupied the Castle. Wal- 
 lace sat down, in pensive mood, on a bench a lit- 
 tle apart, apparently taking no interest in what 
 was going on. The Harper had been telling of a 
 frightful being that had lately been seen in the 
 Grlen of Afton, to which men gave the appellation 
 of the Red Giant, or Ettin of Blackcraig, a hill 
 that bounds this glen on the east, and his hear- 
 ers, consisting of a man-at-arms and two or three 
 yeomen, were listening with some little incredu- 
 lity, and much wonder, to the rather enthusiastic 
 discourse of the old man. 
 
 " Hast thou seen this monster, Harper?" en- 
 quired one with a grin, meant to sh^w his courage. 
 
 " Hast thou seen the Witch of EndorV re- 
 sponded the Harper, in great wrath. 
 
 " Our Lady forgive us !" cried another. " Bald- 
 win, let not a jest lead thee to profanity."
 
 76 
 
 *' I meant no more than to answer him accord- 
 ing to his own understanding, shewing him how 
 absurd it is for a thick-skulled spear-pusher to 
 pretend to know more than a man, who, it is al- 
 lowed, possesseth some sense." 
 
 " The old crabstick," muttered the other, aside ; 
 but his curiosity was too much excited to permit 
 of a quarrel just then. " Thou art too impatient, 
 Harper ; thou shouldst explain to simple men how^ 
 these things may be. Ghosts and witches we have 
 all heard of, but men like walking towers — the 
 saints forefend us !" 
 
 " Go to, thou gomeril, thou knowest nothing ; 
 giants are, to the full, as plentiful as ghosts or 
 witches ; thou mayest be sure of that. See now 
 if that young 'squire be not laughing at thy 
 folly?" 
 
 " Nay, pardon me, good Minstrel," said Wal- 
 lace, " it w^as not that I laughed at ; prithee, let 
 us hear thy tale." 
 
 " Ay, heed him not, good Baldwin ; go on," cried 
 another. 
 
 " Nay, lads," quoth the Harper, with a good-
 
 77 
 
 humoured smile ; " if ye speak in tliis strain the 
 old man must e'en do as ye list." 
 
 " Know, then, giants have had existence in all 
 ages, from the creation of the world. Great and 
 manifold hare been the exploits performed by 
 them, even among our own progenitors. Who 
 has not heard of Bevis of Hampton" — 
 
 " And Groliah of Grath," interposed one. 
 
 " Wilt thou shut thy mouth V said sharply the 
 interrupted narrator. " Thou art but an ass to 
 think a Philistine thine ancestor. Ettin is the 
 word applied to them in Germania ; and also, as 
 you may observe here, when men have opportunity ; 
 and it doth come from the Scandinavian tongue." 
 
 Here his audience manifested unequivocal signs 
 of impatience. 
 
 " And what mean ye now 1" exclaimed this true 
 scion of the genus irritabile Vatum. " Truly, I 
 am throwing pearls before swine. Thou, Baldock, 
 shouldst suck in knowledge as thou dost ale ; and 
 thou wouldst soon learn enough, I trow. Keep 
 thyself quiet, and let this worthy stranger listen to 
 me. Well ! in the countries of Germany, whence
 
 78 
 
 we draw our descent, those Ettins flourished in 
 great numbers, spreading the fame of their deeds 
 oyer the workl. Their names are numerous as 
 the sand of the sea, and I know many tales con- 
 cerning them. One of them is the well-known 
 Langbeen Riser, or Ettin Longshauks, which run- 
 neth after this fashion, as I translate it, into our 
 own vernacular. The King offered a reward for 
 the head of this mighty giant, who wrought great 
 scaith in the land, eating, as we believe, much folk 
 as well as kine ; and a smith's son undertook to 
 slay him. 
 
 " Here am I^ Vidrick Yerlandson, 
 With good sworde by my side ; 
 And here I dare thy rest to steer, 
 And thy black wrath abide." 
 It was the Ettin Longshanks, 
 Upwinked with his e'e, 
 * And whence is he, the page sae bauld, 
 Dai-e say sic words to me ? ' ^ 
 
 It is too long to go through ; but the page slew 
 the giant, and gained wealth and honour by it.'* 
 
 ^ See Jamieson's Northern Antlquitie&.
 
 79 
 
 " Did he eat, didst thou say, folk?" enquired 
 the troublesome Baldock, his face somewhat pale. 
 
 " Ay, doubtless ; why, fool, a man would hardly 
 be half a meal to Longshanks. The bride of one 
 Ettin ate ten sheep, and drank a butt of wine at 
 her bridal feast. Well might the bridegroom say, 
 he ne'er saw ' one so lay her lugs in a dish.' " 
 
 The listeners were observed by Wallace to cross 
 themselves at this speech, in silent amazement ; 
 and, however impatient they were to hear of their 
 own individual Ettin, the Harper was not again 
 interrupted ; but seeing the impression he had 
 made, he chose, like a spoiled child, to dally 
 with his hearers, and, beginning to play with the 
 strings of his harp, from which he seldom parted, 
 he sang some stanzas like the following, without 
 attending much to the tune that accompanied 
 them : — 
 
 In the whin-bush chaunts the lintwhite rare, 
 The laverock mounts on the morning air, 
 The merle and the mavis, low in the vale, 
 So sweetly thej lilt their soft love-tale ^
 
 80 
 
 And the small Avren chirps on the castle wall, 
 While the redbreast warbles from bow'r to hall, 
 Biat the hawk on his eyrie stands alone, 
 And its all for the wild Macrie that's gone. 
 
 Here pausing, and looking up — '• Know ye 
 where I got these words, gallants V enquired the 
 Harper. 
 
 None knew. 
 
 " Aha! I surmised as much." 
 
 " Here," thought all of them, their curiosity 
 much excited by his promised account of the giant 
 — "here is another digression." It is probable 
 that he guessed what was passing in their minds ; 
 and resolving that they should never be right, he 
 went on as follows : 
 
 " A certain man who wons near the fastnesses, 
 at the base of this black crag — that is, as near as 
 any Christian can live to that savage spot, was one 
 day last week tempted, it might be by the foul 
 iiend, to wander after a stray sheep far up the 
 Glen of Afton, near the extremity of which 
 stands this rugged hill ; and as he got into the 
 gloom of the dell, the poor hiud became eerie, and
 
 81 
 
 sang, to keep up his spirits, the song of which you 
 have just heard a part ; but he had not got much 
 farther than I did just now, when he was startled 
 by a noise overhead, and, looking up, he beheld a 
 sight that nearly drove him demented. On a jut- 
 ting piece of rock sat the Ettin, seemingly thrice 
 the size of ordinary men ; his body was covered 
 with long red hair, and his eyes shone like two 
 stars in a dark night. His face had nothing 
 earthly in it — all was like a demon on his counte- 
 nance. The poor husbandman was so overcome 
 by fear, that he could do nought but gaze on him, 
 until the giant rose slowly, displaying his enormous 
 length, and disappeared." 
 
 " Said he nothing r' "Spoke he not 1" asked 
 every one in a breath. 
 
 " Something he did say ; but the poor man 
 averred that his voice was like the roar of a moun- 
 tain linn, and he could remember no word he spoke, 
 and no wonder, for he reached his home distraught." 
 
 " Is he of mortal mould, thinkest thou, Harper ? " 
 
 enquired the man-at-arms, who had hitherto taken 
 
 scarcely any part in the scene. 
 
 D 2
 
 82 
 
 " Certainly, of mortal mould," was the reply; 
 " but so stark and stalwart that no man of nether 
 earth can mell with him. Marry, we have no 
 Vidrich Verlandsons now ! He lifteth an ox, they 
 say, with as much ease as a cat carrieth off a 
 mouse." 
 
 " By our Lady !" said the man-at-arms, his eye 
 kindling, " 'twere a gallant deed to encounter this 
 faitour giant." 
 
 The Harper shook his head gravely. " Thou 
 do'st talk like what thou art, a young man. May 
 Heaven forgive onr sins ! this creature is surely 
 uncanny, for he drinkcth the blood of men that fall 
 into his clutches, and fierce and cruel must he be 
 who liveth on such fare. And now, my friends," 
 looking with a pleased aspect on the blank visages 
 around, " now that you are reasonably sensible of 
 the truths I have told you, I shall inform you far- 
 ther, that I had doubts of the existence of this 
 Ettin, until I questioned the poor villein myself, 
 and he related to me all I have told you, and gave 
 me the very song in his own tongue, which I have 
 traduced into our vernacular, lo vouch for his tale.
 
 83 
 
 He said, too, that the song was made by a minstrel 
 of this place, on the last of the old chiefs of the 
 district, MacEi, being literally, ' son of the Chief.' " 
 
 A pause here ensued. At last the man-at-arms 
 remarked that the new Castellan should know of 
 this strange discovery, and a consultation was held 
 as to the best and most eflfectual manner of telling 
 it, so as to make a proper impression. 
 
 " Thou must choose thy best words, Harper," 
 said the man-at-arms. 
 
 " Nay," remarked a simple-looking yeoman, 
 " I rede you send no Harper to him. Eememberest 
 thou not how he said to Baldwin, in the middle of 
 a rare lay, too. " Tush ! old man, thy brain work- 
 eth like barm ! " 
 
 The Harper, a little disconcerted in his hour of 
 triumph, replied hastily : " Thou saycst true ! this 
 silent young knight loveth no minstrelsy ; but his 
 cousin" — looking round for Wallace — " I grieve me 
 he hath left the hall ; his kinsman is the person. 
 A choice minstrel, my masters ! No longer agone 
 than yesterday he held me lay about a matter of 
 two hours. He hath rare skill on the harp, too."
 
 84 
 
 " He hatli skill in everything," observed the 
 man-at-arms, " and he can pitch the bar two yards 
 farther than Tom of Linton, the strongest man in 
 our band. He were the person to head a raid 
 against the Ettin." 
 
 '•' Well spoken !" cried they all. The Harper 
 shook his head. " Methinks he will not choose 
 that feat. Saw ye not how grave and silent he 
 looked whilst I told the tale, and then he went 
 away, without as much as ' thankye, Harper, for 
 thy courtesy.' Nevertheless, he is both courteous 
 and debonnair, and will for a word state the matter 
 to the Castellan." 
 
 The consultation here closed, and the several 
 listeners parted, to tell the story, each after his 
 own fashion, with what flourishes his nature might. 
 
 Young Sir Reginald or Ranald (we shall adhere 
 to the former to distinguish him from his father), for 
 he too was a belted knight, received the intimation 
 of the near neighbourhood of this singular depre- 
 dator with a degree of eagerness which surprised 
 the parties who made the communication. He had 
 sent detachments round the vicinity, in all direc-
 
 85 
 
 tions, to secure every suspicious prowler, and dis- 
 perse any armed bands of roving plunderers, with 
 which the country everywhere abounded, but with- 
 out meeting with a single party of any conse- 
 quence ; and he had begun, with the susceptibility 
 of a youthful aspirant to fame, to fear he would 
 gain no credit by his command. But this deep 
 and secluded dell had escaped his notice. In fact, 
 it was altogether so impassable, that the very na- 
 ture of it, although affording security, seemed to 
 preclude that freedom of egress and communication 
 necessary to those who lived by theft and rapine. 
 When, therefore. Sir Reginald heard it mentioned," 
 he conjectured at once that, instead of one giant, 
 he would find some scores of plunderers in these 
 wild regions, and he resolved instantly on having 
 it explored as thoroughly as its almost impene- 
 trable fastnesses admitted ; and he sought out 
 Wallace, with the view of taking his opinion on 
 the case ; for, like every other person, he had great 
 confidence in the extraordinary sagacity of hi* 
 cousin. 
 
 But, to his disappointment, Wallace listened
 
 86 
 
 very coldly to his ardent expressions, and liis san- 
 guine expectations of gaining some addition to his 
 warlike reputation. 
 
 " I judge, from what we have seen of this spot, 
 that no regular band of reivers can keep them- 
 selves in it. A few unhappy refugees there may 
 be from southron oppression, and thou wouldst 
 not, cousin E-eginald, drag them from a place of 
 safety to undergo the torments which the tools of 
 of our tyrant would inflict ?" 
 
 Reginald, in his selfish desire for renown, would 
 have disregarded this observation, but he felt the 
 influence which his cousin possessed over him, and 
 restrained himself, while he replied calmly — 
 
 " Thou must recollect, William, what is our 
 duty. I am sent here to suppress robbery ; and if 
 those robbers are, as thou sayest, refugees, still 
 they are no less robbers. My knightly oath bind- 
 eth me to accomplish what I have undertaken. 
 If, as thou dost say, these men should be unfortu- 
 nates who have felt the rod of the oppressor, it is 
 but a justification of the treatment they met with, 
 to prey on good men who have not injured them."
 
 87 
 
 " Thou dost assume too much, my cousin. I 
 said not there were refugees in Afton, but that it 
 was more likely the people there, if any be, are of 
 that hapless class than robbers. Sure I am, thou 
 wouldst grieve if innocent men, and, it may be, 
 women and children, should be slain in an on- 
 slaught in such a place by men with minds heated 
 by rustic tales, and nerves shattered by supersti- 
 tious fear ; ever the most cruel are fighting men 
 under such influence." 
 
 Reginald looked fixedly at Wallace. 
 
 '' William Wallace," said he, " let there be some 
 understanding between us. " With me, the first 
 thing is my knightly fame ; next, the cause of my 
 country ; but the first must never give place to the 
 last, nor to any earthly consideration — not even 
 the preservation of life." 
 
 " The last I well believe : thou mightest have 
 spared so much ; but thou hast not felt that glow 
 of patriotism which shoots through my frame like 
 lightning, and which, to the exclusion of everthing 
 else, occupies my thoughts when I reflect on the 
 wrongs of my country, if thou do'st speak of the
 
 88 
 
 latter, and that empty sound Fame — that unwhole- 
 some air which doth merely fan the pride of man — 
 in the same breath." 
 
 Reginald cast a glance on his cousin, and saw 
 the subject was becoming serious. 
 
 " Thou art severe, William ; natheless it is right 
 we should know each other's sentiments. Then what 
 wouldst thou counsel if thou dost fear harshness 
 on the part of our men 1 I admit in that thou 
 art right." 
 
 " Grammercy, fair cousin, for the frank admis- 
 sion," replied Wallace immediately. " My opinion 
 shall be given without reserve, and the more so 
 that thou dost deal so openly with me. It doth 
 seem passing strange that, notwithstanding all the 
 complaints we hear from the country people, we 
 can light on no parties to whom blame may attach. 
 But have v>'e taken pains to ascertain that their 
 complaints are just 1 May there not be something 
 under it which hath not yet come to light ? Thou 
 knowest that there are Southrons among the Lo- 
 thian men ; nay, that the latter are, many of them, 
 rank Englishmen. And dost thou think, Reginald,
 
 89 
 
 that the Piercy has sent us here without some spe- 
 cial purpose, known only to himself and his fami- 
 liars 1 Answer me !" 
 
 " My father did suspect some secret object," 
 replied his cousin ; " but we could conjecture no- 
 thing that is feasible." 
 
 " And it is not possible that we are here," con- 
 tinued Wallace, " without being under strict espial. 
 I will not venture to speak, eveu to thee, what I 
 fear, because it is, I confess, wild and improbable. 
 But hear my counsel. Let a small and select band 
 explore this glen ; if there is danger in it, we shall 
 share it. Some, at least, will escape, to report 
 what hath chanced ; and this Governor will award 
 to thee the meed of praise for caution, in regard to 
 thy soldiers, and for spirited adventure, such as 
 errant knight might love, as concerns thyself." 
 
 " Now, by all my hopes, dear William," said 
 the delighted Reginald, " thou hast hit on the very 
 thing. Men say true, there is neither clear head 
 nor stout heart like thine, beardless though thou 
 be." 
 
 The old Minstrel, " Baldwin of the many lays,"
 
 90 
 
 as be often said his old lord had designed him, 
 walking ont on the same afternoon towards Afton 
 Water, near the edge of that stream was surprised 
 by the sound of a clairshach from behind a small 
 thicket, and a manly voice singing the following, 
 which seemed to be the continuation of an effusion 
 in honour of his favourite glen : — 
 
 Lonely and wild ! liow bright thy rills 
 
 Flash back the summer beam, 
 As, leaping from the dark grey hills, 
 
 They rush to join thy stream. 
 
 Still may thy waters gaily flow. 
 
 And sparkle in the sun, 
 As if no tide of human woe 
 
 Could in thy valley run. 
 
 They tell of cedar-hills afar, 
 
 Beneath the sun's bright path, 
 And groves of spice, whose odours are 
 
 The morning's balmy breath. 
 
 I'd rather see the cap of snow 
 
 That crowns thy mountain crest. 
 Than breathe the perfum'd winds that blow 
 
 In southern lands so blest. 
 
 Far rather walk thy birchen bower, 
 
 Moist with the dew of May, 
 Than joy me where each gorgeous flower 
 
 Reflects the blazing day.
 
 91 
 
 At the close, the unseen Minstrel paused, and 
 Baldwin could hear a deep sigh. The latter then, 
 stepping in front of the bushy screen that divided 
 them, beheld a man of middle age, reclining, in a 
 pensive attitude, on the green. His dress was a 
 tunic of coarse woollen phiid, reaching to the knee, 
 and worsted hose, with a broad bonnet for the 
 head — garments which contrasted unfavourably 
 with the somewhat gay attire of the more fortunate 
 Harper of Cumnock. 
 
 " A fair goodmorrow, brother," said the latter, 
 regarding the stranger with a look in which pity 
 was blended with self-complacency. '' Thou wilt 
 pardon my intrusion, seeing it hath been partly 
 unwitting, specially as we are brethi'en of the same 
 craft." 
 
 " The land is free to thee as to me, I opine,'* 
 said the other, Avithout changing his posture. 
 
 " Truly, it may be lawful to say, seeing it is 
 the laud of the Earl of March, my good lord and 
 patron, that it is even more free to me than thee, 
 stranger as thou art." 
 
 " I care as little for thy master as for thee,"
 
 92 
 
 replied the otlier, clmrlishly; " but as for being 
 stranger, know thou art here the strangers — thou 
 and thy Earl!" 
 
 " The saints protect us ! " ejaculated Baldwin, 
 in fear and surprise. " Thou hast little care of 
 thy life, friend, to talk in that fashion, slighting 
 the name and the power of Scotland's mightiest 
 lord. Who art thou, I pray thee ?" 
 
 " Kameless I am; but the day hath been when 
 my place was high as thine, my garb as rich, and 
 my lays, it may be, as well sung." 
 
 A feeling of interest arose in the Harper ; his 
 kindlier nature was touched ; and he sat down, un- 
 bidden, beside him. 
 
 " Though happier now," said the old man, sadly, 
 *' I, too, have had my day of trouble. It is the lot 
 of man ; and he who doth not partake of anothei^'s 
 grief, will himself be unpitied in his hour of retri- 
 bution, when it comes, as come it will, sooner or 
 later." 
 
 " Thou speakest fairly ; but the words of the 
 Southron were ever fair and false." 
 
 " Call me not Southron. Many hundred years
 
 93 
 
 have fled since my forbears settled in the fertile 
 plains of Lothian. I am a Scot, as thou art, by birth 
 and descent ; for who can tell, throughout this land, 
 that his ancestors never knew another country^ 
 not even the children of the Gael." 
 
 " Ay, stranger," replied the other, " that may 
 be ; but who can tell when the sires of our race took 
 up their abodes on these surrounding hills and 
 dales, where — scarce two score years have gone 
 since — a thousand warriors, armed with spear and 
 glaive, would rush, at the first blast of a bugle- 
 horn, to combat by the side of him who was the 
 chief and the father of his tribe ? But they are all 
 gone now — scattered, like autumn leaves, in a 
 blighting wind, by the pestilential presence of the 
 children of the South. Mark me, old man; I know 
 thee, at least by repute. Thou wilt make thyself 
 believe, in the heat of thy maker-craft, that I am 
 an outcast from the world, and warp me, it may be, 
 into one of thy Saxon ballads ; but thou wilt not 
 betray me — wilt not tell, in yonder stronghold, 
 erewhile of a noble race, that there is one who doth
 
 94 
 
 speak freely of Cospatrick, and have me hunted 
 down like a wolf of the wold." 
 
 " I will not have thee oppressed," said Baldwin, 
 '* neither shall I permit thee, wayward as thou art. 
 to speak despitefully of my lord or of the Saxon 
 people. Come, come; surely two harpers may meet 
 and confer, without entering into national disputes ? 
 What have simple men like thee and me to do with 
 the quarrels of nations'? I would discourse of our 
 noble art, that is peaceful, and averse from strife, 
 though it doth celebrate the deeds of warring men. 
 I recognise in thee the Minstrel of the Glen, whose 
 sweet lays have reached mine ear, though thou wert 
 all unknown." 
 
 " Be it so," replied the stranger, after a mo- 
 ment's pause. " Be there those in yonder castle 
 who love our gentle art ? Can they kindle with 
 the fiery song, and melt with the tale of woe ?" 
 
 *' Yea, truly, many such have we ; but no harper. 
 Save myself, no one who hath been entered regu- 
 larly to it ; but we have one who hath skill sur- 
 passing that of many a professed son of song."
 
 95 
 
 " And who may he he T' enquired the stranger, 
 with a look of interest. 
 
 " Even a hold and stalwart esquire, kinsman to 
 the captain of our hold." 
 
 "ACrawfurd?" 
 
 " Nay, save by his mother, who is sister to the 
 Sheriff; thane horn and knightly is he, natheless, 
 and of the ancient blood of the country — and AYal- 
 lace his name. Thou mayest have seen him — few 
 that see can forget him ; he hath no marrow for 
 fair stature and comeliness." 
 
 A smile stole over the hitherto rigid features of 
 the strange Harper. " His race is known to me 
 at least, and hath even mixed blood with the chief- 
 tains of these hills," said he. " I pray you, is 
 aught known of his teacher, who was erst monk of 
 Kilwinning 1" 
 
 " I know not," replied Baldwin ; '* men say he 
 disappeared years ago. He is called the mad priest, 
 his brain being somewhat infirm ; it is rumoured that 
 he died somewhere far off — thus a yeoman of Lou- 
 don told me ; and he said, moreover, that he was
 
 96 
 
 known by the name of Father Angus. Be he the 
 one you mean V 
 
 " The same," answered the stranger. 
 
 " Canst thou tell me aught of the giant who 
 men say doth inhabit this glen V enquired Bald- 
 win, looking towards Blackcraighill with a shudder. 
 " I hear that thy habitation is not far from the 
 mouth of it." 
 
 " The dwelling of the wandering Harper can 
 scarcely be called his own, but there is a cottage 
 some hundred falls above this which may be styled 
 more frequently my resting-place; touching the 
 giant, doubtless, I have heard, as all men must in 
 these parts. I may have seen him, but I care not 
 much to do so. Grim, grizly, and awful is his ap- 
 pearance, if the tales be sooth, and I know not 
 how to doubt them." 
 
 " And whence may he have come, dost thou 
 know, good brother ^ where hath he sojourned be- 
 fore?" 
 
 " What can I say 1 who knoweth if he came into 
 the world like common men ? Doubtless he hath
 
 97 
 
 made much stir among the inmates of yonder 
 castle?" 
 
 " Truly, thou mayest say so," replied Baldwin, 
 thrown off his guard by the deep interest he took 
 in the subject ; " thou mayest be assured of that, 
 since the Knight himself, with the Esquire just 
 spoken of, and twenty picked men besides, are to 
 go in search of him." 
 
 Here the Harper paused, as if recollecting him- 
 self " But what have we to do with them 1 I pray 
 thee, hast thou heard of the far-famed harper, True 
 Thomas of Ercildowne ? Ah ! he is the man for tales 
 of fairies, and of giants too ! Far hath he travelled 
 into fairy-land ; and it is known that Thomas was 
 high in favour with the Fairy-queen." 
 
 "Surely all men have heard of Thomas the Ehymer?" 
 
 *' Didst thou know him, friend V 
 
 " In my youth." 
 
 " Yes, but that was long ago. Thomas hath now 
 vanished from among us, and many believe, to dwell 
 with his beloved queen of Elfland. For my part, I 
 hardly believe that it can be so," said Baldwin 
 looking doubtfully into his companion's face.
 
 98 
 
 " What know we, poor mortals, about that 
 which is possible ; many give no credit to the ex- 
 istence of this very Ettin under our nose here ; but 
 doubtless thy knight will clear up all doubts on the 
 subject. And when doth he set out, friend, in 
 search of him ?" 
 
 But Baldwin was now aware of his imprudence 
 in telling so much as he had disclosed to a perfect 
 stranger, and professed total ignorance of the mat- 
 ter, excepting what he had learned from a common 
 bruit, which, after all, might be but nonsense. 
 
 " Humph !" said the other with a sharp glance 
 at him. " I bid you good day, then, brother Harper. 
 We may chance to meet again." 
 
 " Indeed, I hope so," replied Baldwin ; " such 
 meetings are pleasant to me." 
 
 As they spoke, both arose from the ground, the 
 stranger shewing a height and a breadth of shoul- 
 der that surprised the old man, who exclaimed, as 
 they parted — " By my faith ! thou art the most 
 buirdly fellow that ever bore harp."
 
 99 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Nor track nor pathway might declare, 
 That human foot frequented there, 
 Until the mountain-maiden shewed 
 A clambering unsuspected road 
 That wended through the tangled screen, 
 And opened on a narrow green. 
 
 * * * 
 
 A form of maiden loveliness, 
 'Twixt childhood and sweet youth. 
 
 Scott. 
 
 The morning of the next day had been ap« 
 pointed for exploring the Glen of Afton. It was 
 judged proper not to enter it at a very early hour, 
 because the fog which generally enveloped the hills 
 surrounding it, kept the place in darkness until the 
 morning was somewhat advanced. The two kins- 
 men rode in advance of the party, which consisted 
 entirely of Crawfords, with the exception of a few 
 yeomen as a sort of reserve, and to take charge of
 
 100 
 
 the horses, when the journey could no longer be 
 
 prosecuted on horseback. When they entered the 
 
 place where the ravine began to become narrow, 
 
 the gloom deepened gradually on them. On the 
 
 plain the sun was shining gaily; in the glen he 
 
 was not visible ; but above their heads, on the sides 
 
 of the rocky hill, thick clouds of mist rolled and 
 
 wavered in the fresh morning wind, rising with 
 
 the latter, and subsiding also as it fell. Not a 
 
 sound was heard; and, as they travelled onward, 
 
 the silence and gloom around invaded the spirits of 
 
 every one, for no whisper was allowed in the band. 
 
 At length they reached a spot where their guide 
 
 stopped, and, pointing significantly to the ground, 
 
 indicated that no horse-print was visible there, and 
 
 that they could no longer proceed. The whole 
 
 party, instantly dismounting, gave their horses to 
 
 some of their attendants, while others of the latter 
 
 were directed to follow behind them. These were 
 
 armed with bows and spears. 
 
 Eeginald had previously remarked that his cou- 
 sin, on this occasion, wore a vizor to his head- 
 piece, which he had never before observed him to
 
 101 
 
 do, his maxim being, " that a man's hands should 
 keep his face ;" and, coupled with the remarks he 
 had made before, this circumstance impressed Regi- 
 nald with the belief that the present service must 
 needs be one of great jeopardy, for he had the 
 highest opinion of both his cousin's sagacity and 
 courage. Onwards they paced, the darkness in- 
 creasing as the dell became more and more con- 
 tracted, and the faces of the yeomen, and even a 
 few of the stout Crawfords, assuming an unusual 
 elongation as they proceeded. 
 
 After a toilsome march, along the margin of 
 the Afton, here a small streamlet, among fallen 
 fragments of rock and disjointed stones, the hills 
 on each side began to be almost perpendicular, 
 and the trees, from their position on them, were, 
 in many instances, thrown completely across the 
 chasm, mingling in the centre with those from the 
 opposite side, in such a manner, as nearly to ex- 
 clude the light of day. 
 
 *' Didst thou hear aught?" whispered Sir Re- 
 ginald to Wallace.
 
 102 
 
 " I did ; it seemed the cry of a plover," was the 
 answer. 
 
 And silently they stumbled on in the darkness, 
 until, becoming somewhat impatient, the leader 
 demanded to know of their guide, " how far they 
 were to travel in that manner ?" 
 
 " For an hour longer," replied the man ; " when 
 the path becomes more open." 
 
 " St Andrew be our aid !" softly ejaculated the 
 young Knight. " I would it were lighter." 
 
 " Heed not the darkness," said Wallace, in the 
 same low tone. " Thou hast novelty in this ad- 
 venture, at least, and that is to thee. Sir Reginald, 
 to say nothing of the hazard, a singular induce- 
 ment." 
 
 There might be something slightly ironical in 
 the manner of saying this, but it passed un- 
 heeded. 
 
 At the end of the period mentioned by their 
 guide, the party emerged from this Cimmerian 
 darkness into a more open space ; and going on a 
 little farther, the dell, taking a sudden turn to the
 
 103 
 
 right, disclosed, immediately before them, a small 
 patch of the deepest green, through which the 
 mountain stream meandered. It was surrounded 
 by rocks rising perpendicularly to the height of 
 some forty feet, save where the ravine turned 
 abruptly off; and their tops were covered with 
 lofty trees, so densely planted, as to form a bar- 
 rier almost to a foot-passenger. While they were 
 yet enjoying the relief to the eye, which the tufts 
 of early wild-flowers, here and there in an earthy 
 spot in the face of the rock, afforded, the mist, 
 which had cleared as they came into the light, 
 again descended to nearly the very ground. 
 
 " This place," whispered Sir Reginald, " seems 
 a proper centre, where outlaws might draw out from 
 the neighbouring covert. What think' st thou, Wal- 
 lace ; shall we dern ourselves here a short while 1 I 
 can see the most of them would like a little rest 
 after that dreadful hole we have passed through." 
 
 " I think thou art right. If the mist should 
 rise again, we might explore this spot. Perhaps 
 some trace of man may be discovered." 
 
 While he was yet speaking, the mist began to
 
 104 
 
 rise ; and when it had risen so far as to reveal the 
 top of the surrounding rock, an object met their 
 eyes, which overwhelmed the band with amazement. 
 Scarcely twenty paces from where they halted 
 stood a female figure, so beautiful, that every man 
 believed her to be supernatural ; and it is not 
 strange that they did so^ considering the supersti- 
 tion of the age, and the savage nature of the 
 scenery around. She was a young woman, appa- 
 rently of the age of seventeen, dressed in a kirtle 
 of green, fitting close to the person, and shewing 
 her perfect proportions. On one side hung from 
 her neck by silken cords, a small grass-green bugle- 
 horn, and on the other, two or three arrows ap- 
 peared stuck in her girdle. In her hand was a 
 bow ; on her head she wore a small silken cap or 
 bonnet, decorated with a plume, such as youths of 
 the other sex were wont to Avear. Her raven hair 
 appeared under this covering, falling over her neck 
 in rich and luxuriant clusters, and parted in 
 front to reveal an alabaster forehead, under which 
 two dark eyes flashed with peculiar lustre ; a 
 straight nose and ruddy cheeks, slightly tinged by
 
 105 
 
 the sun, with teeth like the snow of her own hill, 
 completed the charms of her person. It would be 
 difficult to tell whether she, or the intruders on 
 her solitude, shewed most surprise. The men 
 held their breath, and gave way only to a few ex- 
 pressions of amazement, as they crossed them- 
 selves, their eyes riveted on her. Wallace alone 
 betrayed little emotion, probably from the great 
 command he had over himself, while Sir Eeginald 
 gazed in wonder like the rest. She at first drew 
 back, like a startled fawn, the blood mantling in 
 her cheek, and then retiring as hastily, and leaving 
 her pale, panting, and leaning against a tree, as 
 she fixed her eyes on the formidable band of armed 
 warriors before her. 
 
 Sir Eeginald first spoke — " What art thou, 
 maiden ; so unlike the wilds thou dost inhabit — 
 speak?" 
 
 She stood erect, instantly recovering herself, — 
 " A simple mountain maid," replied she, in a 
 silvery voice, " unaccustomed to the sight of 
 
 strangers." 
 
 He advanced a few paces nearer to her, and she 
 
 e2
 
 lOfi 
 
 hj this time quite collected, stood as if yoid of 
 fear. 
 
 " What seek ye in this solitary place, in your 
 garments of iron 1 " enquired she. 
 
 " We seek to know the secrets of this rugged 
 glen," replied Reginald ; " and, hy Heaven, I swear, 
 if our expedition reveal many more such marvels 
 as this spot, 'twere worth an age spent in the ad- 
 venture. Tell me, fair maid, what thou art, and 
 who is thy sire, and how earnest thou into this fear- 
 ful Avilderness? " 
 
 " That I may not do." 
 
 " With whom dost thou live if really thou art 
 of this world," enquired he, relapsing again into 
 a feeling of misgiving as to her nature, for he ever 
 heard the whispered remarks of his kindred be- 
 hind, who were decidedly fixed in their belief that 
 she was a fairy — her garb confirming them in it. 
 She smiled, as she replied, that it was not surely 
 so rare to find a rustic maiden in the Cumnock, 
 hills, as to excite surprise. 
 
 " Wert thou indeed a rustic, the case were dif- 
 ferent ; but thou art noble, if human at all — thy
 
 107 
 
 form and spirit equally reveal it. Come hither, 
 William, why stand so far apart ? Assist me to 
 question her." 
 
 '* Wilt thou not, fair one, in all courtesy, sa- 
 tisfy our captain, who hath reason for his enqui- 
 ries V asked Wallace. 
 
 She turned quickly at the sound of his voice, 
 and gazed on him, as she replied, " What hoots it 
 thee or him to know me ? Methinks it is but scant 
 courtesy ye shew in so persisting." 
 
 " Canst thou tell of any habitation here," asked 
 Reginald, varying the nature of his queries, " where 
 we might find refreshment f ' 
 
 " The poor man's cot, Sir Knight — such, I per- 
 ceive, is thy degree — can ill supply the wants of 
 so many, although the will be strong." 
 
 " We have traversed, since morn, these rugged 
 and darksome wilds, and thou alone have we seen 
 of aught human. Canst thou tell of other inhabi- 
 tants, where they be, and who?" enquired Wallace 
 again. 
 
 " The wolf, the fox, and the deer, are the deni-
 
 108 
 
 zens of these hills. The foot-prints of men are 
 more rarely met with." 
 
 " But they may he, maiden : thou canst not be 
 alone ; so, I pray thee, without longer dallying, 
 tell us how we may approach thee — for I see 
 no trace of a path — that thou mayest lead us to 
 some habitation." 
 
 She hesitated for a minute, then looking atten- 
 tively, first at Wallace, then at Sir Reginald, 
 " Methinks," said she, " I cannot be wrong in be- 
 lieving that two goodly Christian men, a belted 
 knight and a stately warrior, would not seek to in- 
 jure a helpless maid, and an old man even less able 
 to help himself." 
 
 " Thou hast the word, hand and glove, of us 
 both, that helpless innocence of either sex shall be 
 safe from us." 
 
 Here a man-at-arms, whose confidence had re- 
 turned, came up to his leader, and pointed in a 
 direction a little to the left of her position, whisper- 
 ing something at the same time. She guessed his 
 meaning immediately; and, with a proud look,
 
 109 
 
 assured them that he would find no path there 
 without her assistance. 
 
 '' Lonely people here must secure themselves 
 from attacks on every side," said she ; " hut I 
 take thy plighted word the more readily and 
 speedily, because thou mightest have reason to 
 suspect, did I delay. Please you to pause, while 
 I bring one who is better able to hold converse 
 with you." 
 
 She then disappeared among the trees. 
 
 " What thinkest thou, now, William Wallace 1 
 This damsel is neither giantess nor refugee serf." 
 
 " Nor robber, fair cousin," said Wallace, with a 
 smile. *' Come ! my whinger against tliine, this 
 wonderful maid — who is only so because all is 
 savage around her — is living in perfect innocence 
 here ; and thou wilt discover nothing, either of elf, 
 ettin, or riever, about her." 
 
 '* It is a wager," replied the other ; " always 
 provided that ' about her' means kith, kin, or allies 
 in this glen." 
 
 " Even so ; and in good time, here she comes, 
 and indeed with an old man."
 
 no 
 
 The maiden stepped out on the little green, 
 from an aperture in the rock, hitherto unseen by 
 them, leading a man, apparently of four score 
 years, whose sight seemed too much impaired to per- 
 mit of his threading the mazes of the path through 
 the rock. The damsel bent her head gracefully, 
 in salutation, as they advanced, and her aged 
 friend reverently lifted his bonnet. 
 
 " Welcome," said he, " noble sirs, to this lone 
 spot ; many years have passed since it was graced 
 by such goodly company." 
 
 " We thank you, kind my host — so let me call 
 thee." 
 
 *' Let me see ! let me see !" said the old man, 
 with a sort of childish curiosity. " I was wont to 
 know soldiers by their shields ; — the ermine fess, 
 and on thy helm the double-headed bird. Wel- 
 come, gallant Crawford ! Ah, me ! ah, me ! what 
 years have flown since I saw that blazonry in 
 stricken field ; but men must fade — fade away like 
 the trees of the forest. Said I not well, sirs ?" 
 
 " Right well," replied Sir Reginald, with a look 
 of pity.
 
 Ill 
 
 " I pray you, let him rest ; he is somewhat 
 flurried and overcome, it may be by surprise. Sit 
 on this knoll, grandsire," continued the maiden, 
 in a soothing tone. 
 
 He sat down accordingly, and after looking 
 round, began again to give vent to the garrulity 
 of age. 
 
 " And what hath brought this fair band so far 
 up Afton 1 Seldom do men resort to this quarter. 
 I doubt not but the Lord of the castle hath again 
 begun to think that there are more men in this 
 rude wild than the poor old hermit of the Amri, 
 Let me see, let me see : just ten years have passed 
 since so many steel bonnets glittered here. Their 
 chief, a surly youth, questioned me hard. ' What 
 dost thou here ? ' asked he. ' I was born near 
 this glen,' said I, * where my sires lived since the 
 time of good King Cavus. The land that belonged 
 to them was reft by the Dunbar of Lothian ; but 
 worn, old, and helpless, he permitted me to wander 
 as I listed through forests once mine own. It 
 chanced then that one in his band knew I spoke 
 sooth, so he passed on his way and left me ; but
 
 112 
 
 none in the castle halls know now that there is 
 such a person as the Hermit of the Amri ; yet the 
 tale may have been heard among the Crawfords." 
 
 He paused, and his eye casually rested on Wal- 
 lace. 
 
 '' I have heard," said the latter, " that an aged 
 man lived somewhere near this, on lands once his 
 own, but I heard also that he was no more." 
 
 " He is no more for this world, indeed," replied 
 the old man, with a sigh. 
 
 " But this maiden — whence is she?" 
 
 " Ah me ! I am faint. This tumult in my breast 
 is too much for me. My child, where is Allan ? 
 He is better able to talk with these gentle war- 
 riors." 
 
 " Allan, grandsire, went forth with me to the 
 chase. Being behind him, I heard some noise 
 near this spot, and came to the front of the rock, 
 where I discovered our fair company ; but he passed 
 on unwitting of my stop." " He doth speak," 
 continued she to Sir Reginald, " of one who, in for- 
 mer times his menial, adheres to him in his fallen 
 fortunes, and doth dwell with him in the woods."
 
 113 
 
 She then occupied herself in soothing and en- 
 couraging her aged relative, who soon again began 
 to speak. 
 
 " Did'st thou ask ahout the maiden ^ She is the 
 child of my fair-haired Mary, though hers be black 
 as the corby's plume. She dwelleth not here, but 
 she doth come at times, like sunbeam to prison 
 cell, to cheer the old man in his hermitage. She 
 Cometh like a blink of sunlight, and she goeth as 
 fast ; pass a little while, and she will be away 
 again." 
 
 There was so much of truth in the appearance 
 of the parties, as well as their words, that Sir 
 Reginald, after looking at Wallace, said, with a 
 shrug of his shoulders, 
 
 " By my faith, William, thou dost ever win ; 
 whatever it be, thou art on the right side ; the 
 whinger is thine, and, what is worse, my hopes of 
 a good turn of arms have passed away. Old friend, 
 I thank thee for thy courteous attention to my de- 
 mands. I will trouble thee no more than to ask — 
 yet the question doth seem bootless — if thou hast
 
 114 
 
 heard any tales concerning a strange being that 
 hath been seen in this valley '?" 
 
 " The Ettin ! by my sooth haye I," said the 
 old man eagerly ; " but he is not near me. Jesu 
 guard me else ! He doth dwell in a cave near the 
 foot of Black Craig, men say, some miles below 
 this. Ye must have passed it, but ye searched and 
 found him not. Aha ! better for you ; all the 
 better !" 
 
 " Thou hast not seen him, surely f 
 
 " Wo, no. What can he get from the Hermit ; 
 but Allan knoweth all about him." 
 
 " Hath he seen himT' 
 
 " No, no ; thou knowest not the Ettin ! None 
 see him and live. He doth prey on the husband- 
 men and serfs between his cave and the castle. 
 Farther up he could get nothing but a couple of 
 old men. Ah ! he knoweth not of my child ; that 
 would be a morsel for him !" 
 
 *' You see, fair sirs," said the maiden, " that 
 his intellect, which hath failed him, is even worse 
 than usual with his present agitation. Let it suf- 
 fice that these idle tales are not credited by me.
 
 115 
 
 I believe the creature, whatever it was, that took 
 the villein's cattle, is no more a giant than my 
 poor grandsire," bending over and caressing him. 
 
 *' Art thou not in fear for thyself in these rude 
 wolds, fair maid ?" enquired Wallace. " Methinks 
 the tales which blanch an ordinary womaii^s cheek, 
 even in peaceful hall, might scare away a bolder 
 heart than beats in female bosom from a place like 
 this." 
 
 " For me," replied she, " I am here to-day and 
 gone to-morrow, and no one knoweth when I come ; 
 few know that such a person lives." 
 
 " And that seemetli to me as strange as any 
 wonder we have seen to-day," said Sir Reginald. 
 " Thou did'st seem to us all, while on that rock, 
 like a celestial spirit looking from above on lowly 
 mortals." 
 
 She smiled at this compliment like one who was 
 not quite unaccustomed to such language. 
 
 " And trust me, gallant Knight, thou did'st seem 
 to me as one who doubted whether he spoke to maid 
 or elf," said she, with an arch smile ; " but I am 
 not altogether defenceless. I can use my weapons
 
 116 
 
 indifferently well." So saying, with a sportive 
 vivacity, which became her age, and shewed that 
 her confidence in the strangers was fully esta- 
 blished, she drew an arrow from her side, and, in 
 an instant, lodged it in the staff of a spear, at a 
 goodly distance from her — one of those which the 
 yeomen had stuck into the ground, on seeing the 
 amicable nature of the parley. 
 
 "Well shot, by St Hubert!" cried Sir Ee- 
 ginald ; " thou art the queen of all fair huntresses ! 
 It doth grieve me to part with so much beauty and 
 courtesy, and withal, ignorant of the name she 
 bears ; but the sun hath passed the meridian, and, 
 my merry men, we must e'en return as we came." 
 They then took leave, and departed. 
 " Truly, Eeginald," said Wallace, as they re- 
 sumed their journey through the narrow chasm, 
 " thy lady-love would scarce like to see thee in 
 presence of this damsel of the Amrie, as the old 
 man doth style his place of abode. Thou, hereto- 
 fore so silent and grave, and anxious only to win 
 renown for her sake, seemed to look somewhat too 
 keenly on this obscure rustic."
 
 117 
 
 " And thou ! thinkest thou I did not observe, 
 when thou didst raise thy vizor, that fixed gaze of 
 thine on her beauties 1 The damsel herself beheld, 
 and smiled as she looked on thee." 
 
 " That may be," replied Wallace ; " it matters 
 not what I may do, but thou dost bear the colours 
 of a noble dame ; and at tournay and in fight, 
 thou dost search still for one other wreath to 
 gratify her vanity, or her thirst for distinction. I 
 prithee forgive my bluntness — I see my speech doth 
 offend." 
 
 " Thou dost err, cousin ; such phrase, applied 
 to one so pure and so high, cannot affect her." 
 
 " Do not speak so gravely, then, Reginald ; I 
 know her good qualities ; but, touching this wood- 
 land nymph, I judge her to be what the Hermit 
 gives her out, but nurtured in other places than 
 wild woods." 
 
 " Thou mayest so say, indeed. No castle hall 
 in our shire doth hold a damsel of a mien more 
 noble; and her speech, too, doth not smack of the 
 hills. Doubtless these sad times do make even in- 
 nocent people cautious ; and, feeling this, I deemed
 
 118 
 
 it would shew lack of courtesy to push my ques- 
 tions farther." 
 
 " Thou wert in the right ; for what more could 
 be done ? Without assured information, it would 
 be folly to wander and to toil through these fast- 
 nesses, in search of imaginary personages." 
 
 So conyersing, they returned to the Castle of 
 Cumnock.
 
 119 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Gentle Northumberland, 
 
 If thy oflFences were upon record, 
 Would it not shame thee, in so fair a troop, 
 To read a lecture of them ? If thou wouldst. 
 Thou shouldst there find some heinous articles. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 Lord Pierc y, Governor of the Western Shires, 
 had his principal residence at Ayr, in the castle of 
 that name. He might have been styled a good 
 specimen of the Norman noble, in the earlier por- 
 tion of the thirteenth century, when the bitter 
 jealousies between Saxon and jNTorman had not yet 
 given place to that amalgamation which the lapse 
 of two more generations sufficed to produce, and 
 which existed at the period of our tale. His dis- 
 tinguishing soubriquet of " The Proud Lord," in- 
 dicated that his natural feelings and dispositions
 
 120 
 
 were obvious to all. He looked with contempt on 
 nobles who boasted not a foreign origin; and, 
 such was the high opinion he entertained of his 
 own order, that he regarded common people as 
 worthy of consideration only in so far as they 
 ministered to the wants of, and were essential to, 
 the privileged classes. But among those of his 
 own rank he was held to be " full knightly," and 
 scrupulous in the extreme on every chivalrous 
 point of honour. The power he possessed was ab- 
 solute within his jurisdiction ; and he was esteemed 
 zealous, wise, and active, for the interests of his 
 king. 
 
 Such was the potent personage who ruled, with 
 stern adherence to his sovereign's command, over 
 a principal portion of Scotland, and whom we are 
 to introduce to our readers, sitting on an elevated 
 chair, in the great hall of his castle, arrayed in a 
 long gown of purple velvet, fastened at the throat 
 by a jewelled brooch, and at the middle by a girdle 
 or baldric, which sparkled with gems. His fea- 
 tures, handsome and aristocratic as they were, had 
 that in tbem which gave him a look singularly ex-
 
 121 
 
 pressive of his character. The hall was crowded 
 with people of every description, who had repaired 
 to him on business, and with the retainers, knights 
 esquires and pages, of his household, who assisted 
 in maintaining order among the motley group of 
 petitioners and supplicants. After a considerable 
 time spent in listening and in passing judgment, 
 the crowd became thinner, and at length the hall 
 was completely cleared, and the Lord Governor, 
 vacating his chair, retired into a sort of cabinet 
 adjoining, beckoning on a knight in attendance 
 as he went in. When the two were alone, the 
 former enquired " if the man was at hand." 
 
 " He is, my Lord ; and hath been waiting since 
 I announced his presence," 
 
 " Bring him in then, Heselrig, and see that he 
 have speech of no one : it is especially needful to 
 be careful in this matter." 
 
 The Knight returned forthwith, conducting a 
 man in the garb of a yeoman. 
 
 "Thy name is BaldockT 
 
 *' Yes, my Lord."
 
 122 
 
 " Thou wert in the seryice of Earl March, aud 
 art noAY in mine, forming one of the garrison at 
 Cumnock I So much I know of thee, and I desire 
 to know no more. ^Vhat hast thou to tell, that 
 thou seekest an audience of usl" 
 
 The man cast a look at Heselrig. 
 
 " Narrate to my Lord what thou hast told me, 
 briefly and distinctly ; and use no double-dealing 
 — no untruths — mark you me ; but speak exactly 
 as I directed thee (giving him a peculiar look), for 
 my Lord loveth not long harangues." 
 
 '* As my Lord doth know," replied Baldock, 
 " that my duty was to watch the motions of the 
 young esquire Wallace while at Cumnock, no more 
 is to be said than what belongeth to him, as it 
 seemeth to me. Thus then it was : — Wallace was 
 seen by me, several times, to hold converse with a 
 wandering minstrel, whom men call * The Minstrel 
 of the Glen,' because, forsooth, he hath a howfF near 
 the mouth of Afton. Yet he is nought save a begging 
 harper ; but I did suspect that he held intercourse 
 with other people, and went between Wallace and 
 them ; natheless, I could get no proof of it till the
 
 123 
 
 day after our journey up that darksome dell, when, 
 heing fatigued with a long walk, I threw myself 
 under a thicket, on Afton bank, to avoid the noon- 
 tide heat, and I had been there but a few minutes 
 when this minstrel and Wallace, who had met at 
 the bridge, sought also that retired spot for private 
 converse. I lay quiet, and heard every word they 
 said. ' Thus was I warned,' said the Minstrel, as 
 if continuing what he had been saying, * but I could 
 not find thee.' ' Heed it not,' said Wallace, ' all 
 is well now, — the matter hath been skilfully man- 
 aged; — the old man — the maiden and her tale — 
 the Hermit of Amri — nothing could be better 
 carried out.' And here he laughed." (" The 
 knaves ! the crafty knaves !" muttered Lord Piercy.) 
 " Where didst thou get the men disposed of so ex- 
 peditiously ?" " Fortunately the damsel's tale was 
 sooth. All had gone in the direction of Cars- 
 phairn — following, as usual, the chase, save some 
 half-dozen, who were speedily sent out of the 
 way when thou and thy companions were dis- 
 covered. The damsel watched your arrival ; but 
 not being prepared for so large a band, was for a
 
 124 
 
 moment overcome ; yet, as thou dost know, she is 
 not easily frightened." I could gather farther 
 from their discourse, that Wallace had been among 
 them in these wilds frequently, and was in league 
 with the outlaws, in some enterprise whose na- 
 ture I could not discover. It is certain, however, 
 that he is the only one of the Loudon men who 
 knoweth of these people ; for I heard him say he 
 would not involve his cousin Reginald, by making 
 liim acquainted with their plans." 
 
 " Aha ! friend Arthur," remarked the Lord 
 Governor, looking at Heselrig ; " our bolt hath not 
 hit the mark; yet this information is most im- 
 portant. Hast thou any more to tell, Baldock ?" 
 
 " Nothing, my Lord, unless it be that Wallace 
 said he was going to Riccarton soon, for his uncle 
 was taken ill, and he wished to see him." 
 
 " Then speed thee back, and be vigilant as a 
 mastiff. Bring word if he doth change his quarters. 
 Thy reward shall be great, if thou dost bring this 
 mischievous Scot within the hangman's gripe ; and 
 methinks he is fast approaching it." 
 
 Baldock withdrew ; and Piercy resumed.
 
 125 
 
 *' He spoke of a damsel ; what can the churl 
 mean by giving that appellation to some runaway 
 serf? Heardst thou aught of her ?" 
 
 " Nothing : some drudging wench, I believe, 
 kept there by the outlaws for their own purposes." 
 
 Here the Lord and his follower bestowed each 
 a glance on the other ; and they were both able 
 to interpret distinctly its meaning. That of the 
 Lord said plainly, " I have no faith in thee, where- 
 ever a woman is concerned." That of the follower, 
 " Dost thou suspect my double-dealing in this 
 matter ?" 
 
 " JSTow, Arthui' of Heselrig," said the Governor, 
 gravely, " if thou darest to deceive me — and thou 
 knowest, in affairs of women I have reason to 
 distrust thee — thou shalt incur my severe dis- 
 pleasure." 
 
 But Heselrig had gone too far to draw back ; 
 so he boldly averred that he knew nothing more 
 of the matter. 
 
 " The man, doubtless," said he, " in giving the 
 wench the title of a gentle dame, hath merely com-
 
 126 
 
 raitted a blunder. I warrant me she is as coarse 
 and ugly as a Scotch witch." 
 
 Lord Piercy and his principal followers, of whom 
 Heselrig was one, were under the necessity of em- 
 ploying so many spies, that the practice operated 
 on themselves, to make them suspicious of each other. 
 The Lord told no more than was just necessary to 
 his purpose ; and the Knight, knowing the extent 
 of his Lord's ramifications in the way of espionage, 
 was aware that he withheld information about him- 
 self, that he had received, on occasion. He was the 
 cleverest and most expert of all Lord Piercy' s ofii- 
 cers, besides being the best lance in his train ; and 
 thus, being of essential importance, the latter did 
 not choose to cast him off without great provoca- 
 tion ; and certainly the Knight had given suffi- 
 cient, were it not for those considerations, to de- 
 tach him from him completely. 
 
 " Sit thee down, Arthur Heselrig," said Lord 
 Piercy ; *' matters of importance must be discussed 
 by us without more delay. This affair, as thou 
 knowest full well, is of too much consequence to
 
 127 
 
 permit of the slightest deviation on thy part, on 
 any consideration whatever, from instructions given. 
 I have sure information that this youth, who I 
 think must he the devil, in the likeness of a Scottish 
 lad — this Wallace hath been, during the last 
 month, within ten towns of Scotland, and thou may- 
 est guess, as I do, on what errand. Thou know- 
 est that, even in the short space he hath been at 
 Cumnock, the Carrick district hath had more than 
 one visit from him ; and all unknown to his thick- 
 headed kindred of Loudon, formerly so much sus- 
 pected. This man is wary, wise, and politic, not 
 only beyond his years, but beyond any one we have 
 to cope with." 
 
 " It is not for me to dispute your opinion, my 
 Lord," replied Heselrig ; " but it doth seem to me 
 that there is much of mere youthful wildness in 
 these escapades of Wallace ; it is making him too 
 important to believe that he can influence a whole 
 population." 
 
 " Now, by my soul, thou dost not think so, He- 
 selrig. I know thou hatest him ; but give thy 
 judgment fair play. Here are accounts from St
 
 128 
 
 Johnstown, Dundee, Dunbrittou, Edinburgh, and 
 others, all of the same tenor and purport — ' Be- 
 ware of William Wallace !' " 
 
 " Surely, my Lord, the extent of your intelli- 
 gence in itself doth shew that he is neither very 
 wary nor wise, else how doth he let any one likely 
 to betray him know of his actions or of his pur- 
 poses." 
 
 Lord Piercy grimly smiled at this observation. 
 
 "^ It suits me not, Heselrig, to tell thee all my 
 plans and my secrets. Suffice it that two powerful 
 agents in this impoverished and spirit-broken land 
 are always effectual ; — food with those who are 
 perishing of famine — tortures with those whose 
 stout hearts resist all other appliances. Marry, 
 the latter have been felt and are known, and few 
 like to experience them. The executioners of King 
 Edward understand their work ! Man who hath 
 been seen conversing with this fellow is seized, is 
 offered gold or food with one hand, and the boots 
 and thumb- screws with the other. Some resisted 
 at first, and died under the operation of the law. 
 Subseq^uently, and now, finding our King will he
 
 129 
 
 obeyed, those who are suspected either must escape 
 from the district or speak out ; in good sooth, to 
 do them justice, many of the wretches have scorned 
 the gold, though, to save themselves for their wives 
 and children, they have given out information by 
 slow degrees, as if it was their hearts' blood." 
 
 " These are stern measures, my Lord," said 
 Heselrig. 
 
 "By my troth, I think so. To speak plainly 
 to thee, this policy of our King goeth against my 
 stomach ; but what can I do ? No one can turn 
 him from his purpose ; and if we, his governors in 
 Scotland, declined to obey his instructions and 
 resigned our offices, the law is still the same, and 
 others would be found to carry it into effect. After 
 all, they are but the common scum — the dregs of 
 mankind ; and if they are really rebels — that ques- 
 tion is also between Edward and them — they de- 
 serve punishment." 
 
 " I think little of the people," said Heselrig, 
 " whom, indeed, I like not ; but the policy — I ques- 
 tion the wisdom of this severity. You will make 
 f2
 
 130 
 
 Wallace a hero in their eyes, and his adherents 
 martyrs !" 
 
 " Thou sayest truly ; but it is needless to talk 
 on this subject. I am but the King's officer, and 
 must obey ; yet it cannot hold long. Wallace 
 must soon perceive — nay, I think he already doth 
 suspect he is under espionage, and he will take 
 care to secure his friends and himself: he hath 
 cunning and sagacity for anything! I doubt me 
 even if this information of Baldock's is not given 
 him on purpose — that he was aware the latter was 
 in the thicket the while. No one but I can know 
 the address and dexterity of that knave!" 
 
 " That were a stretch of boldness indeed ! But 
 no, my Lord ; I cannot think it is so. Baldock is 
 artful too, and long used to his trade." 
 
 " Well ! to-morrow morning we must adopt 
 some course on Baldock's news. Meanwhile, hast 
 thou heard from Lanark 1 Thy father is urgent 
 to go to England next month." 
 
 " So he doth inform me, good my Lord. His 
 private affairs in Northumberland demand his pre- 
 sence for some time, as he doth inform me. Long
 
 131 
 
 absence hath exposed his lands to the depredations 
 of the Scots and his feudal foes together, and he is 
 anxious to obtain permission to retire, if his son 
 is deemed worthy to be his representative in 
 Lanark." 
 
 '* This must be seen to — thou hast parts, 
 Arthur, but, as thou knowest, art somewhat 
 unstable." 
 
 Here an attendant entered to announce a 
 messenger from the Captain of Cumnock. 
 
 *' Bring him in," said the Governor; "doubt- 
 less he is sent to intimate what we know already," 
 he added, as the page withdrew. 
 
 Presently a tall man entered, having the air of 
 one not unaccustomed to the presence of great 
 ones. 
 
 " What from Sir Eeginald Crawford?" 
 
 " Health and fair greeting to the noble Lord 
 Governor, and he biddeth me let him to wit, that 
 he hath used all means at his disposal to root out 
 the thieves and limmers who molest the people of 
 his district, but hitherto he hath not been able to 
 discover any of them, and he hath searched every
 
 1S2 
 
 place, even the most secluded, to find them out, — 
 the last being the dell of Afton, where nought was 
 found saye an old man and a maiden of tender 
 years, quite unable to do a deed of spoil and 
 rapine." 
 
 " It is well done and diligently. Wert thou of 
 this expedition up the glen ?" 
 
 " I was, my Lord." 
 
 " A wild spot, I have heard, and haunted^ men 
 iSij, by strange people." 
 
 " Even so, noble Lord. Rumour doth place 
 one there of specially strange form." 
 
 " Ah, the giant ! Dost thou believe in him V^ 
 
 " There are who doubt not among us. The 
 Harper avers that it is not to be doubted ; and the 
 Hermit of Amri is firm in his belief." 
 
 " Tell me the names of the men-at-arms who 
 were with you ; proper men, I hear, are those of our 
 Cumnock garrison." 
 
 " Crawfords all, my Lord," as he went over 
 their names ; " saving one, who is so also by his 
 mother." 
 
 " And his nameT'
 
 133 
 
 '* William Wallace." 
 
 " Ah ! I have heard that youth mentioned ; 
 stately and stalwart he is, and good at all his 
 weapons, — is it not so ?" 
 
 " True, my Lord." 
 
 " About thine own size, but fair as thou art 
 black. Thou seest, friend, we take pleasure in 
 hearing of brave men, though it may be this youth 
 hath not acted so prudently on occasion as he ought 
 to do — but let that pass. Doth Wallace remain 
 with his cousin at Cumnock ?" 
 
 " So I believe, my Lord ; but it was said his 
 uncle of Riccarton was ill, and he would soon go 
 to enquire after him. He will return, doubtless, 
 where his uncle of Loudon hath placed him." 
 
 " Thou art a Crawford V 
 
 " Yea, my Lord." 
 
 " And of what house 1" 
 
 " Loudon." 
 
 " But distant in thy connection, doubtless," con- 
 tinued the Governor in an easy gossiping tone, as 
 if lounging over this conversation for amusement 
 
 only.
 
 134 
 
 " What maiden was this in Afton glen ? Didst 
 thou hear V 
 
 '' Various tales are told. One sayeth that she 
 is a runaway serf; another, that she doth come 
 from the Lanark hills, and doth no more than visit 
 her kinsman in the glen ; another" • 
 
 " And to whom may she belong in Lanark ]" 
 
 " They say, my Lord, who hold to that tale, 
 that she is a baron's daughter." 
 
 " Is she beautiful, this damsel, in thy sight V 
 
 " As an angel, my Lord." 
 
 " So, so," continued the Lord Piercy, glancing 
 at his confidant. 
 
 " Art thou a judge of beauty, fellow ?" enquired 
 the latter haughtily. 
 
 " Truly, Ave men of Loudon have little time to 
 trifle with pretty maidens, and thou mayest be 
 right in thinking I err." 
 
 " Speak intelligibly, fellow," replied the Knight 
 still more haughtily. 
 
 " And who art thou, pray, that a gentle Craw- 
 ford should not speak to thee as thou dost to 
 himV retorted the other, drawing himself up.
 
 135 
 
 " Peace, vassals, both ! thou dost strangely 
 forget thyself," said the Governor, addressing 
 Heselrig in particular. " Remember ye are in 
 the presence of Lord Piercy." Thus saying, he 
 assumed that degree of stateliness which all about 
 him bowed to immediately. 
 
 The Crawford seemed singularly indifferent, how- 
 ever, and went on with his discourse as if nothing 
 had occurred to discompose him. 
 
 " I speak not, my Lord, in regard to this 
 maiden, on my own judgment ; but it is well 
 known in Cumnock that a knight of this house- 
 hold, whose taste is allowed to be good, declared 
 her to be altogether sui-passing and unrivalled, 
 when he forgathered with her some weeks past." 
 
 " Dost thou remember the name of this gallant 
 knight?" 
 
 " It was Arthur of Hesterrig, or Heselrig, the 
 name hath partly escaped my memory ; but so in 
 some sort it sounded, and he did so express him- 
 self to the then Seneschal of Cumnock." 
 
 " If I ever saw this person, my Lord," said He-
 
 136 
 
 selrig, in a tone sufficiently humble, " it must have 
 been under another guise." 
 
 '* Another time for that," said the Governor, 
 aside, but very gravely. " We must discuss that 
 alone. I know thou sawest her." 
 
 " It was merely from curiosity I asked these 
 questions. What is it, good friend, as thou well 
 dost know, what this wench may be, to the Lord 
 Governor? Hear you aught of losses sustained 
 by the yeomen in your quarter lately 1 " 
 
 " We hear less of them, my Lord." 
 
 " Hath the old Lord of Loudon repaired yet to 
 Cumnock?" 
 
 " He tarried two days ; but thinking the work 
 suited younger men better, he left his son to rule 
 in that district." 
 
 " With our permission he did. This maiden, 
 doth she not remain in the glen?" 
 
 " She was to depart in two days, so her grand- 
 sire told our captain." 
 
 " Thou mayest retire, good friend ; greet well 
 the Captain of Cumnock. He hath our commenda- 
 tions for his diligence."
 
 137 
 
 Lord Piercy, when the messenger retired, paced 
 the apartment in moody silence, his follower stand- 
 ing reverentially, without daring to speak, so well 
 he knew the temper of his lord. At length the 
 latter made a full pause, and spoke to the other 
 gravely, even sternly. 
 
 " Heselrig, thou knowest me not. Thou 
 mightest have heard my reputation, though we 
 have not been placed together heretofore ; but thou 
 hast not been long enough with me to know me so 
 well as I know thee. Thy character is as clearly 
 before me as if we had lived together for a score of 
 years, and a strange mixture it is — bold, rash, 
 wise, foolish, licentious, unscrupulous in attaining 
 thy object — these thou art ; thou art yet young, 
 and years may improve thee ; but this little scene 
 hath shewn I am not to be deceived. Thou wilt 
 know me better henceforth. I knew thou hadst 
 spoken to this maid ; that thou didst gaze on her, 
 and speak of her as an object of desire." 
 
 " He is the Devil!" thought Heselrig to himself, 
 but he preserved his humble attitude. 
 
 *' Thou hast in thy nature materials which may
 
 138 
 
 be moulded so as to be useful to me, and highly 
 honourable to thyself, serving thy ambition, whicli 
 is great, and raising thee high in place ; but thou 
 must weed out or keep in check those faults I find 
 in thee, or thou shalt not long be follower of mine." 
 
 " My Lord, I am deserving of censure in this 
 matter, in so far that I said nothing of this maid 
 in reporting my progress through the Cumnock 
 hills. But of aught else, of aught that doth make 
 her of consequence in the eyes of my Lord, I am 
 ignorant." 
 
 The Grovernor looked keenly at him. " Didst 
 thou not know that she was of Lanark, and likely 
 to be under thy father's rule ; perhaps thine own? 
 Dost thou know thyself so little as not to be aware 
 thou wouldst sacrifice my interest and thy sove- 
 reign's, to compass the possession of a woman so 
 beautiful ?— Go to !" 
 
 " I knew not so much of her, so help me Hea- 
 ven !" 
 
 " Then I have done thee wrong, so far, and I will 
 so far make amends as to tell thee that I like thy 
 good parts and esteem them, and would gladly see
 
 139 
 
 thee cured of thy blemishes. No more of this 
 at present. What thinkest thou of Sir Eeginald's 
 
 " Nay, it was forestalled — thanks to my Lord's 
 omniscience — and 1 thought more of the messenger. 
 Were it not that he is black-a-viced, he is the very 
 image of his hated kinsman, this Wallace, and 
 my gorge rose at sight of him." 
 
 " Indeed ! Certes, he is a tall goodly personage ; 
 but it is evident these men of Loudon know not 
 what an evil spirit they have among them ; as 
 little do they know, or doth Wallace know, how 
 well that glen hath been explored by emissaries 
 from me. Thou dost stare ! I have more to en- 
 trust to thy confidence, but this is not the proper 
 time. Yet, this much I will tell thee, there are 
 guides known to me who can conduct a band so 
 as to surround this outlaw, call him what they will ; 
 old man, maid, and all. Aha ! what sayest thou 
 to that, Arthur HcselrigV' 
 
 " I say, my Lord, be Wallace what he may, he 
 hath found his match in cunning and address." 
 
 " Wit sharpeneth by exercise," replied the Go-
 
 140 
 
 vernor, "but the business in band must be de- 
 spatched ; attend me here two hours hence." 
 
 Heselrig bowed and withdrew in secret admira- 
 tion of the knowledge and tact of his superior. It 
 must be here remarked that he had been only 
 a short time in Lord Piercy's household, and it 
 was but now that the latter began to treat him 
 confidentially, having discovered that he was not 
 only far above the rest of his knights and 'squires 
 in education, but in talent ; and that, if he could 
 cure him of his faults, especially of his loose and 
 impetuous passion for every handsome woman in 
 his way, he would be most valuable to him. 
 
 When Heselrig descended to the court, lie found 
 the messenger from Cumnock conversing with the 
 men of the castle, apparently with great confidence 
 and familiarity. He seemed to have much plea- 
 sure in listening to their tales of exploits performed 
 on different late occasions ; and at this precise pe- 
 riod, one of them had just finished a rather length- 
 ened narrative. 
 
 "By St George !" exclaimed the messenger in 
 ecstasy, " it were something to serve a lord like this !
 
 141 
 
 Yonder we are pent up in hold continually, or taken 
 out, at best, for a run upon the hills after men 
 that we can never find !" 
 
 " Dost thou desire, fellow, to take service with 
 the Lord Governor?" struck in Heselrig, still pre- 
 serving his air of haughty superiority. 
 
 *' And to become thy fellow indeed V replied 
 the other. " Dost thou ask ? Frankly, then, that 
 would be little inducement. I like thy fellows bet- 
 ter than thou, truly." 
 
 This was said with perfect composure and good 
 humour, and most of the audience smiled at his 
 coolness ; but Heselrig, eyeing him with sour disdain, 
 answered, " I can have no fellowship with such as 
 thou ; but if thou dost wish to have the Lord Piercy 
 for a master, thou must shew more prowess than 
 thou and thy comrades have lately exhibited." 
 
 " I pray thee, come thou, an' thy lord will per- 
 mit, and try thy luck ; — thou mayest meet with 
 adventures there to suit thy yellow spurs, an' thou 
 list!" 
 
 " As how ? Thy people can find nothing." 
 
 '* Thou mayest, perchance ; — if not, we have a
 
 142 
 
 young knight, fond of cliivalrous sport, who will 
 give tliee exercise in the lists." 
 
 There was an expression in his eye, which, 
 coupled with the daring coolness of his manner, 
 conyeyed an impression that he meant hy this to in- 
 sinuate a challenge to Heselrig. The latter cast a 
 glance at him when he replied, that shewed he so 
 understood him. 
 
 " Thou art presumptuous, sirrah ! Match thee 
 with thy mates ; but thou mayest tell thy kinsman, 
 Wallace, that I shall requite his late friendly deed 
 to me, and that soon, even on the hills of Cum- 
 nock." 
 
 " Nay, Heselrig," said one present, " thou art 
 discourteous to a stranger, who, till thou didst 
 come, was the best good fellow we have seen for 
 many a day." 
 
 " Let pass," quoth the Crawford ; "I heed him 
 not." 
 
 '• The more courtesy dost thou shew. I prithee 
 come with me ; thou must need refreshment ere 
 thou dost return — I am 'squire to the Seneschal." 
 
 *' I give you hearty thauks ; and, truly, I will go
 
 143 
 
 with tliee, the rather that I like thy pleasant con- 
 verse ; and when, I wonder, will this Knight take 
 the road to Cumnock ? I must tell Wallace of his 
 good intentions. By my faith, he will find no boy's 
 play with William ! — Canst tell when he shall 
 come ? I long to see them together." 
 
 " That we know not. Our Lord telleth nothing 
 till the hour of action ; but thou mayest be sure 
 from that, the time is not far distant, or Heselrig 
 would not know it, faYOurite though he be." 
 
 The hospitable 'squire then conducted him to an 
 apartment, where he was served with the necessary 
 refreshment, and shortly afterwards rode off ex- 
 peditiously to Cumnock. After riding a few miles, 
 he stopped at a brook which crossed the road, took 
 off his bonnet, then a false beard, and next began 
 to wash his hair with great assiduity and success ; 
 for, in a few minutes, the black tinge vanished, and 
 William Wallace was revealed in his proper person. 
 Being particularly anxious to get into the interior 
 of Ayr Castle, he had desired to be sent on this 
 occasion ; but not choosing to let his kindred 
 know of his object, and his desire to be unknown
 
 144 
 
 to Lord Piercy, he disguised himself on the road, 
 as we have seen, with one of the pigments he had 
 procured after great trouble and research, and 
 which he was in the practice of using frequent- 
 ly. He was especially desirous that the Governor 
 should not become acquainted with his appearance 
 by personal observation. 
 
 On reaching his destination, he reported to his 
 cousin the reception he met with, — the commen- 
 dations of the Governor, and his friendly greeting, 
 and ended with intimating that Heselrig might soon 
 be looked for on some business of the former. 
 
 " And what may it be, trow "?" enquired Sir 
 Keginald. 
 
 " Who can tell — perhaps to view the country, 
 as he did before, — perhaps to try the knightly 
 adventure of the Ettin." 
 
 " Or rather, to see that we Crawfords are at 
 our post, and doing our duty — ever suspicious is 
 this Piercy." 
 
 Wallace shrugged his shoulders, and bade him 
 ** let the jaw go bye." " And now," continued he, 
 "I must wend to Eiccarton with to-morrow's dawn."
 
 145 
 
 " Thou art ever restless ; but if thou dost go 
 now, thou must promise to return ; thine uncle, 
 else, will blame me," 
 
 ** I shall bring his commands to thee, — he cannot 
 think I am to let the old man lie on a sick-bed 
 without enquiring after him ; but I shall take all 
 that on mine own shoulders, which are broad 
 enough, as thou dost say sometimes, Reginald." 
 
 Wallace was missing that evening, for hours, at 
 the castle, and it was said he had wandered far up 
 the hills, to enjoy his favourite sport of fishing, for 
 he was seen with a rod at Afton mouth ; but the 
 old Harper shook his head. His easily excited 
 imagination soon connected Wallace with the mys- 
 terious inhabitants of the glen ; and he was sure 
 he held communication with them, although, gar- 
 rulous as he was, he feared to say so.
 
 146 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 With beaker's clang and harper's lay, 
 And all the olden time deemed gay, 
 That Chieftain feasted high. 
 
 Lord of the Isles. 
 
 When Wallace reached Loudon Castle, he found 
 all the tenantry and household on the green, en- 
 gaged in one of those " weapon showings" which 
 the care and diligence of Sir Eanald had rendered 
 very frequent within his hounds. Men-at-arms 
 were careering at the ring, or training their steeds 
 to the shock of hattle. Archers were practising 
 at the butts ; and several bands of yeomen were 
 exercising with the spear — that effectual weapon 
 in the hands of Scotchmen in those days. These 
 were trained to the schiltron, or close square, six 
 or eight deep on all sides. Resting the butts of
 
 147 
 
 their spears, which were eighteen feet in length, on 
 the ground, when charged by horsemen, they pre- 
 sented a gradation of formidable points, varying 
 from eighteen to three feet distant from the square, 
 which the stoutest men-at-arms, if the spearmen 
 were true to themselves, could seldom penetrate ; 
 aud to which the archery of the southron alone 
 were dangerous. Wallace, having dismounted, 
 walked up to his uncle, whom he saw inspecting 
 one of the schiltrons. 
 
 Sir Eanald received him with his usual cordiali- 
 ty, and gladly assented to the propriety of his 
 leaving Cumnock to see Riccarton, assuring him at 
 the same time that he had recovered considerably. 
 " But of that we shall talk by and bye," continued 
 he. " What thinkst thou now of these younglings ^ 
 They promise well, dost thou not thinks Seest 
 thou where thou couldst make in there T' 
 
 " By my faith do I, uncle !" replied Wallace, 
 
 laughing. '* See here !" and he stepped up to one 
 
 who had allowed his weapon to fall on the ground. 
 
 " How now !" cried the old Baron to Simon of 
 
 Hilton, who was drill-master.
 
 148 
 
 " Nay,*' said Simon in surprise, " what hath 
 mazed the lad ^ — Take up thy weapon ! Ah ! by'r 
 Lady, I see how it is ! Come forth ! come forth !" 
 And at the word, a handsome young man rose 
 from his kneeling posture, and walked hastily up 
 to Wallace. " My dear master," said he, seizing, 
 kissing, and hugging his hand, and almost embrac- 
 ing him. 
 
 '* What, Cormack ! is it thou ? Can it be possi- 
 ble?" said Wallace, warmly shaking his hand. 
 " How thou art changed !" 
 
 " Thanks to my kind Lord, and the good friends 
 here." 
 
 " He is a good youth enough," said Simon, 
 " and hath taken to his instruction more glegly 
 than one would have expected in the unshorn colt 
 he was, some few weeks agone." 
 
 " He hath an able teacher, Simon of Hilton." 
 
 " Ah, Squire William, thou ever likedst a gibe ; 
 natheless, it must be allowed that old Simon hath 
 known his weapon since the day of Largs' fight, 
 and before too." 
 
 " We have all heard that more than once,
 
 149 
 
 Simon, but mind the matter in hand; talk not 
 now," said the old Lord. And forthwith Simon 
 re-formed his schiltron of untrained youth, and 
 went through several evolutions, greatly to the 
 satisfaction of Sir Ranald, and of Wallace too. 
 
 After a considerable space spent in warlike 
 exercises, the numerous and variously-armed war- 
 riors were mustered in the great hall and on the 
 gi'een for a different task, even to a solid feast, 
 consisting of more than one ox, and sundry barrels 
 of beer. The party in the Hall comprised all who 
 were of gentle blood, and the leaders among the 
 yeomanry, with a stranger or two as visitors ; the 
 latter, with the family of the Baron, who, saving 
 one, were children of tender years (their mother, 
 being weak and infirm, seldom appeared in public), 
 graced the dais or upper end of the table, with the 
 gentry next to them, the salt vat forming the 
 boundary between the latter and the yeomen. Sub- 
 stantial viands, with wine, ale, and mead, formed 
 the fare, and the rough jest, and rougher repartee, 
 the seasoning. The address and kindness of Sir 
 Ranald in managing his followers were as remark-
 
 150 
 
 able on this as on all other occasions. His eye 
 and ear were both open to any thing that could 
 mar the mirth of the party, and a word or two 
 never failed to restore good humour. 
 
 After the eating was pretty well gone through, 
 and the drink had done its part in raising their 
 spirits, Sir Ranald called for some one to play the 
 part of Minstrel. " Is there no one fit to take 
 Borland's part?" enquired he. "Since he de- 
 parted, neither song nor music hath been heard 
 in our halls." 
 
 '* There be none who can strike the harp, my 
 Lord, but Ranald of Torringan ; and he is yet too 
 unskilled to yenture in this presence," said a 
 'squire, casting a sly look at the youth he re- 
 commended, as if saying, " Now thou shalt not 
 escape." 
 
 " Ay ; let him !" muttered old Drongan ; " he 
 is like a young mavis — ever minting at his song, 
 and never going through with it. E'en let him 
 try ; it may cure him of his constant cackling and 
 chirling." 
 
 " Come ! William, thou dost love no song."
 
 151 
 
 *' Thou canst relish no song since the wandering 
 Minstrel sang thy raid into Carrick," said Torrin- 
 gan to Drongan. 
 
 '* What raid, lad V asked the Chief, laughing. 
 
 " Truly, my Lord, it was a raid of this surly 
 laird of Drongan against our foes the Kennedies, 
 at his own instance — at least, so it was meant, as 
 the tale goeth ; but it ended in despoiling an old 
 woman of her cow ; and men say she dwelt on the 
 wrong side of the Doon, too — that is, on the Kyle 
 side." 
 
 " Thou art a malapert boy," said Drongan, 
 casting a furious glance at him ; and thou shouldst 
 know that such tales are unfit for this Hall, where 
 truth alone should be erer spoken." 
 
 " I do but tell, at my Lord's command, the story 
 as the Minstrel told it," replied the other ; " and 
 he said he got it on Doon water." 
 
 " No more. Will," said the old Lord, laughing 
 still ; " it is a fair response to thy disparagement 
 of his minstrelsy. Thou must take and give, man. 
 Thou knowest I have as little music in me as thou 
 hast, and care not for it but to please the rest."
 
 152 
 
 *' I heed not the springald," said Drongan, 
 sourly; " but, certes, he hath one gift of the min- 
 strel quality, — that of making fables." 
 
 " Yea, truly, he was ready with his tale, it must 
 be allowed ; but come, Sir Childej gi\re us a strain 
 of thy minstrelsy." 
 
 The youth, with some timidity, obeyed ; and his 
 ditty was such as might be expected from a be- 
 ginner. 
 
 " Choice pastime, truly," grunted Drongan. " A 
 blast of the swineherd's horn were to the full as 
 good." 
 
 *' Wouldst thou have a love romaunt or a vire- 
 lay"?" enquired Wallace, amused by his old friend's 
 peculiar humour. 
 
 " Nay, William," replied he, " it is even said 
 that thou hast taken to this foolery. An it be so, 
 trust me, the Southron will soon hold thee right 
 cheap. What can they care for a singing man "?" 
 
 " Well 1 and do they not hold me but low 
 enough now. What care IV answered Wallace. 
 
 " No more of this," interposed the Baron. 
 " Drongan liketh nought but plain tales, without
 
 153 
 
 music or poetry, and there be more of his mind ; 
 so, if there be any one who hath a good passage of 
 arms, that we have not heard before (with a glance 
 at Simon), let him begin at once ; and the more 
 broken bones and cloyen heads he doth brings into 
 it the better." 
 
 " Then Simon of Hilton is the man," said a 
 stranger present, without being aware of the salu- 
 tary dread which his host entertained of the length 
 of Simon's tales ; " for he hath more songs and old 
 stories than any one between this and the Sol way." 
 " It pleaseth your honour, Auchinleck, to say 
 so," replied Simon, from below the salt ; '* and I 
 will not deny that I have pleasure in talking of the 
 deeds of the olden time, especially when our for- 
 bears are the parties interested. 
 
 Without farther prologue, and raising his voice, he 
 proceeded with his well-known tale of Largs fight. 
 " Our good Lord was then a younker, and his sire led 
 the Loudon men to that glorious field. Folks said, 
 that being of the blood of those rievers, he would not 
 fight zealously against them ; but, I trow, if they 
 
 of Norroway thought so, they changed their belief 
 a2
 
 154 
 
 before niglit. Our young Lord was with us too, 
 and I was with my father, who held some charge 
 among the spearmen ; and we all went joyfully, as 
 to a merry-making ; for the spoiling Northmen had 
 made havoc in the land, and we knew they were 
 now in a sort of trap, by reason of the storm that 
 would not let them move away. So, when we came 
 within sight of their fleet, covering the seas round 
 the Cumbraes, we raised a shont that made the wel- 
 kin ring for miles round, and we were ansAvered by 
 our friends camped round our gallant King Alexan- 
 der, who, alack for the land ! is no more among us. 
 " Next morning there was great blowing of 
 horns, and we could presently see that they were 
 getting ready to land from their ships ; and to be 
 sure, before we got to the beach, they had sent 
 to land a goodly number, who were ranged there. 
 Well, down upon them we went. The King, with 
 his nobles, ghttering in fine armom% and our 
 staunch Ayrshire barons, who headed their own 
 men, following with their different battles. Scliil- 
 tron after schiltron marched down upon them, till 
 the tuilzie raged far and wide. The Loudon and
 
 155 
 
 Auchinleck warriors fought that day in one schil- 
 tron, the chiefs and their men-at-arms supporting 
 them. We stood stoutly to them, till a more than 
 usually savage looking man, with an enormous mace, 
 came towards us, followed by a score or two like 
 himself. He was a giant in size, with a shining 
 breastplate, and a helmet, from beneath which his 
 yellow hair streamed over his shoulders like the 
 mane of a Shetland horse. St Mary ! how my 
 heart dunted when this savage made direct for me. 
 My father kept his eye on me, but said not a word. 
 Our old Lord, however, seeing the danger, called 
 ' Stand firm, Loudon ! ' and, to be sure, we made 
 our stand like rocks ; but ere I wist what was the 
 matter, my senses forsook me, and, on recovering, 
 I found myself lying on the ground, and the next 
 in the ranks to me also there, with his br?ans 
 beaten out. It was a mercy and a marvel mine 
 went not the same way, for I got the first blow. 
 My Lord said afterwards, indeed, I should be thank- 
 ful for a thick skull ; but that is neither here nor 
 there. 
 
 " The schiltron had been broken, that was cer-
 
 156 
 
 tain ; the wild man liad plunged into it through the 
 partial gap made by our fall. I got up, and, looking 
 round, saw at a little distance the fearful mace still 
 at work. I rose and made towards it, and, a few 
 paces farther on, lay the Baron of Auchinleck, ap- 
 parently dead, with his lance in the body of a fol- 
 lower of the man with the mace. Just then a 
 voice struck mine ear, and, turning round, 1 saw 
 our Lord lying beneath his horse. ' Alack ! ' said 
 I. ' Haste, younker, release me,* cried he, in a 
 strong impatient voice, that rejoiced me exceed- 
 ingly. With difficulty I got the horse, slain by a 
 lance thrust, removed, and up sprang the old Lord, 
 as if refreshed by the accident. ' Follow me, Si- 
 mon,' he said. The schiltron was hard pressed, 
 surrounded by a multitude of the enemy; but it had 
 been re-formed by the assistance of our men-at- 
 arms, who exerted themselves wonderfully, with our 
 young Knight at their head. As we drew near, 
 we were recognised. The horsemen charged through 
 the Norwegians, took us up, and we were imme- 
 diately among our friends again, whose shouts 
 became furious, overjoyed, as they were, at the
 
 157 
 
 rescue of the Baron, who was believed to be 
 slain. 
 
 He looked only for the wild giant. ' No man 
 can harm him, he is charmed,' cried several voices. 
 ' He hath good armour,' said my Lord. ' Hath 
 no man a mace V A mace was found. * St 
 Andrew for Scotland ! ' shouted he, whirling it 
 round his head, and charging full on the North- 
 man, who, still unscathed, uttered a wild cry, 
 and returned his blows ; but our Lord was strong 
 then, and still yawl, and contrived to parry and 
 evade most of his strokes, till he saw an ad- 
 vantage ; and, striking with his full force, he 
 hit the giant on the headpiece, and caused him to 
 stagger ; then did he assail him quickly, with 
 blow after blow, till he fell from his saddle ; but, 
 in doing so, he grasped our Lord by the neck, 
 bringing him to the ground, and falling on him with 
 his whole giant bulk, and we could see him draw a 
 dagger from his belt. All of us held our breath, 
 but our young Knight, spurring his horse, was with 
 them at one bound. Presently up stood our gallant 
 Chief. The lurdane lay still. He had merely
 
 158 
 
 griped the dagger hand of the Dane, and held it 
 fast, for he saw he was in the dead thraw. Then 
 rose a shout worth hearing. You may be sure we 
 soon cleared the ground after that ; and Loudon's 
 lord and Loudon's men were foremost in the mouth 
 of our jolly King for long after." 
 
 *' Well done, Simon ; thou hast omitted a few 
 flourishes this time ; still the old man hath peeped 
 out in that last escapade of thy minstrel faculty," 
 said Sir Ranald. 
 
 " He is not far wide though," said Auchin- 
 leck ; " for his tale doth agree with that which my 
 sire was wont to tell. He never altogether re- 
 covered from his injuries of that day; but he 
 delighted to speak of the battle nearly as worthy 
 Simon hath done." 
 
 " My thanks are due for that," quoth Simon, 
 looking highly pleased ; " for it is my Lord's plea- 
 sure to deride my powers of telling this tale in 
 especial." 
 
 Other tales followed, until the time arrived for 
 those who did not belong to the household to seek 
 their respective homes.
 
 159 
 
 Wallace was not surprised, on cool reflection, to 
 find Cormack so much improved. He had discovered 
 in him, -while in the woods, a great aptitude for 
 acquiring knowledge, and he had taught him his 
 letters in few lessons This the chaplain of Loudon 
 had improved into reading and writing, which was 
 nearly the extent of the worthy priest's own learn- 
 ing ; and his constant intercourse with civilized peo- 
 ple had improved his language and his outward ap- 
 pearance, as we have mentioned. In foct, the mere 
 trimming of his beard, and the cutting of his hair, 
 had done wonders ; then the doublet and hose as- 
 sisted materially in doing the rest. He was much 
 liked by every one in the castle, the unpretending 
 simplicity of his manners still remaining unchanged. 
 There was one piece of the Chaplain's information 
 regarding him which did not please Cormack' s young 
 patron so well. Alice of Hilton had been fre- 
 quently directed to assist about him, when he was 
 confined by his wound ; and an acquaintance thus 
 began, which the Priest averred had ripened into 
 a warmer attachment, at least on his part. 
 
 " Xow, our Lady have pity on poor Cormack !'*
 
 160 
 
 said Wallace ; " no baron liath greater regard to 
 purity of blood than Simon of Hilton ; if the one 
 doth value his nobility, the other doth highly esti- 
 mate his ' estate of yeomanry,' as he doth call it ; 
 and the maiden, too, noAv my Lady's gentlewoman, 
 whose companions are all of best Crawford blood, 
 she will sneer at the poor emancipated serf, doubt- 
 less." 
 
 " I make not so sure of that," said the Chap- 
 lain ; " the maid hath sense to see that her young 
 friends in my Lady's bower are above her, and doth 
 give place to them on all occasions, which, indeed, 
 they will take care of if she forget, — it is their 
 due. Certes, she is the favourite of all, and that 
 is a token that she comports herself properly ; and 
 it doth seem to me that she doth not altogether 
 disdain this humble youth. But time will shew, 
 and thou wilt discover for thyself."
 
 161 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 Aread what is that Lady bright, 
 
 That through the forest wandreth thus ! 
 ***** 
 
 Forsoothe he was a seleouth sight. '■ 
 
 Faery Queene. 
 
 Heselrig, resolving to lose no time, in accord- 
 ance with his Lord's instructions to carry out his 
 intended attack on the stronghold of the outlaws in 
 Afton, fixed on the second day after that on which 
 Wallace had been at Ayr for the purpose. And, 
 availing himself of the ample information possessed 
 by the Governor, he so arranged the disposal of his 
 band as to promise a triumphant success, and the 
 capture of a great many depredators, which would 
 not only add to his renown, but humble the unsuc- 
 cessful Crawfords, and perhaps aiford the means
 
 162 
 
 of discovering proof of Wallace's secret machina- 
 tions among the disaffected. In high spirits, 
 therefore, did he set out, a little after midnight, 
 with a strong force, in order that, ere day had 
 sufficiently dawned on these misty hills, he might 
 have all the passes heset, so as to render escape 
 impossible. 
 
 The spies of the Governor had provided guides 
 who were totally ignorant of the object of this ex- 
 cursion, which they regarded, probably, as some 
 hunting expedition on a larger scale. A detach- 
 ment was sent by Deugh Water to enter Afton 
 Glen from the south. Another was sent by the 
 Nype Hills to come into the valley from the east ; 
 and, according to the information he had received, 
 Heselrig calculated that by this arrangement he 
 would secure the entering of the glen at the several 
 outlets, about the same time. He himself, with a 
 small but select party, took the straight road to 
 the spot where the Maid of the Glen had been 
 seen by the Crawfords. She was the secret object 
 of his constant admiration fi^om the time he had 
 seen her near the mouth of one of these outlets.
 
 163 
 
 where she was evidently engaged in hunting, as 
 she had two or three wild attendants with dogs, 
 and she was attired like one who shared that 
 amusement. Her singular beauty riveted his gaze, 
 till she turned haughtily away, almost without 
 bestowing on him the customary salutation. And 
 Heselrig, recovering from his surprise at the 
 sudden appearance of this beautiful vision, address- 
 ed her with great courtesy and deference, but he 
 could not succeed in engaging her long in conver- 
 sation. Disappointed and vexed, he rode moodily 
 away ; and being one who was capable only of the 
 baser portion of the passion of love, he found an 
 object in Alice of Hilton sufficient to occupy him 
 for the time being. 
 
 But he was surprised afterwards to find how the 
 image of this sylvan maid obtruded itself on him. 
 He knew that, but for his numerous intrigues with 
 women, he would enjoy the unlimited confidence of 
 the Governor ; and his chief anxiety on this journey 
 was to devise some scheme by which she might be 
 removed, without allowing him to know that she 
 had been taken at all ; for he did not doubt that
 
 164 
 
 he would succeed in that, secretly, the principal 
 inducement he had to undertake the expedition. 
 He never for a moment dreamt or thought of the 
 atrocity of the deed, apart from the risk of losing 
 his Lord's favour ; nor did he value the resentment 
 which her kindred, whoever they might be, :hould 
 feel on the occasion. They would be only Scots, 
 thought he ; and it would go hard with him, in the 
 present condition of the country, if he could not 
 make prize of a simple rural young woman, of no 
 considerable rank. But Lord Piercy was strangely 
 particular on that point, just as if a retainer could 
 not do his duty to him and amuse himself as he 
 liked best also. Musing long and anxiously, he at 
 last hit upon a method, which was simply to con- 
 sign her to tlie care of two or three who were de- 
 voted to him, and have her carried off to a castle 
 within his father's jurisdiction, where he expected 
 soon to rule also as he chose. 
 
 It was about the same hour at which Sir Regi- 
 nald and his band reached the spot called Amri, 
 that Heselrig also arrived there. The mist was 
 down to the ground, and the party — with that silent
 
 165 
 
 awe which the nature of the spot and the tales con- 
 nected with it were so admirably calculated to pro- 
 duce on the strongest minds of that age, when no 
 man was free from superstition — gazed on the thick 
 fog without daring even to whisper each other ; and 
 as the gusts of wind came less frequently on this 
 day, it lay longer than usual without undergoing 
 any change, thus increasing their nervous feeling. 
 After waiting for a considerable period, they were 
 startled by the sound of a harp just in front of 
 them, and, from the same rock where the figure of 
 the maid had appeared before ; immediately there- 
 after a clear and singularly melodious female voice 
 began to sing — 
 
 Elves who guard each bubbling rill, 
 
 Spirits of the misty hill ! 
 
 Listen to a maiden's lay 
 
 From this haunt of sportive fay. 
 
 If the eye of warring man 
 
 Dares our secret wilds to scan, 
 
 Ye who human power deride, 
 
 Tame the blood-stain'd mortal's pride. 
 
 This is Holy Nature's sphere, 
 Still her reign is boundless here :
 
 166 
 
 Kone who break her sacred Liw 
 Safe may seek our wilding shaw. 
 
 The voice paused here. The mist was mounting 
 steadily, and the growing light revealed the paler 
 faces of the Southrons to each other, as they gazed 
 intently on the rock which the fog, like a rising 
 curtain, was slowly disclosing to them. As it 
 ascended, the maiden was seen in the same spot, 
 hut seated under a tree, dressed as before, and 
 with a small harp, or clairshach, in her hand in- 
 stead of a bow. Heselrig stood like one entranced. 
 The 'squire next him crossed himself devoutly, and 
 " Sancta Maria! ova pro nobis^'' escaped from 
 him involuntarily. " That can be no earthly maiden 
 — such form, such ftice, in scene so savage man 
 ne'er saw before." 
 
 " The voice, too, hath nought common in it, nor 
 the song," said another. 
 
 Heselrig shook off the feeling that clung to him 
 in spite of himself, arising, doubtless, out of the 
 unsuitable appearance of the damsel to the place 
 she was in, and approached, just as she arose with 
 perfect composure, and seemed to await his address.
 
 167 
 
 " Fair maid," began Heselrig, '* may a stranger 
 venture to intrude on thy solitude, craving pardon 
 for so doing, in the discharge of a momentous duty?" 
 
 " Strangers obtain a welcome to our wilds ; it is 
 all we can bestow on them, and rarely do they 
 come." 
 
 " It must be because they dread the displeasure 
 of one so lovely ; didst thou but give a warmer 
 welcome" 
 
 " Stranger, what can an old man and a maiden 
 give of welcome to bands of armed warriors, save 
 the free passage of their rude abodes, and a God- 
 speed them on their way V 
 
 '* I would fain see the abode of so much beauty. 
 Deign to admit me to thy habitation, sweetest of all 
 dwellers in the wilderness," said Heselrig, waxing 
 bolder, and drawing nearer to the base of the rock. 
 
 The maiden drew herself up, and pointing to the 
 rude crags and hills around, said in a firmer tone 
 than before, " Our abodes are the caves of the 
 mountain, the shade of the forest tree, or the cold 
 face of a rifted rock — all that the sons of the 
 stranger have left us.'*
 
 168 
 
 *' Were they the sorriest dens in creation, they 
 would be to me, blest by thy presence, more lofty 
 than castle hall." 
 
 i' Thy honied words are ill bestowed on the plain 
 dwellers of the glen — pass on thy way, and heed 
 us not ! " 
 
 " Nay, leave us not yet, fairest ; if we may not 
 approach thee nearer, let us be happy in the sound 
 of thy voice ;" then, speaking in a Avhisper to the 
 'Squire, — " Search quietly for a passage up the 
 rock ; get up the men behind her — they are 
 bolder now I see — and then do as thou wert 
 directed. See ! the mist is again coming lower ; 
 be cautious — she doth watch all our motions." 
 
 " What dost thou seek here," enquired she, " so 
 far from the dwellings of thy people ?" 
 
 " Say that I came once more to behold that 
 face ; thou must remember me — thou hast seen me 
 before." 
 
 " It may be ; but thou couldst not come on such 
 errand here. What wouldst thou with the Maid of 
 the Mountain V enquired she. 
 
 " That should be told to thee alone," replied
 
 16.9 
 
 Heselrig, thinking that she looked more beautiful 
 than ever. 
 
 She smiled proudly. " Thou hast nothing to 
 tell which I could listen to, and, I pray thee, talk 
 not in that strain." 
 
 All this time she kept her eye intently on the 
 baud. They had discovered a passage in the 
 rock ; one had actually begun to enter on it, and 
 she was seen in the act of applying the horn to her 
 mouth, when, as the descending mist enveloped 
 her, a low blast, in notes and toues extremely 
 melodious, was heard from tlue bosom of the fog. 
 
 " What can she mean ?" ejaculated Heselrig. 
 The echoes of the hills repeated tlie sound, and 
 were dying away, wlien another blast, loud, rough, 
 and stern, breathing war and defiauce, caused tlie 
 whole band to start and pause. 
 
 " That was well blown," said Heselrig, seeing 
 the necessity for encouraging his men. *' Some 
 trick, doubtless, of this crafty fair one. Would that 
 infernal fog but keep up ! Come, fellows," cried 
 he aloud, " hang not back for such foolery — Cour- 
 age ! — up the rock, a,nd seize our prize !"
 
 170 
 
 The men thus admonished, pushed forward, 
 gained the top of the rock, and were completely 
 hid by the mist. In an instant afterwards, cries 
 came from the spot, indicating surprise and ter- 
 ror. 
 
 " Back !" exclaimed a Toice like the roar of a 
 trumpet, — "Back, ye Saxon wolves!" Then 
 was heard the sound of strife, amid the increasing 
 exclamations of the Southrons, one of whom 
 tumbled over the face of the precipice, and lay as 
 if dead below. 
 
 " St George ! Stand to it," called out Heselrig, 
 as he and his 'squire, who alone were below, has- 
 tened to the scene of action. He was met at the 
 opening in the rock by the whole of his men, 
 retreating as fast as the narrow footpath would 
 permit. 
 
 " It is the fiend !" said one. 
 
 " It is the witch's familiar !" cried another, in 
 breathless fear. 
 
 " It is the Ettin of Blackcraig !" exclaimed a 
 third, as he staggered and fell on the ground ; " no 
 one but he could deal such blows."
 
 171 
 
 The tide of affrighted people fairly pushed He- 
 selrig back into the open area. 
 
 " See! see!" cried the 'Squire, aghast. 
 
 Heselrig looked up. The capricious mist, again 
 ascending, gave to view a gigantic figure, standing 
 out on the edge of the clifi*, partially obscured 
 by the fog. His size appeared immense. His 
 only dress seemed to be a plaid wrapped loosely 
 round him ; but his body was covered with red 
 hair, like that of a wild beast ; the hair, too, of 
 his head and beard, was of great length, hanging 
 over his neck, shoulders, and breast, and he was 
 obliged to clear it away from his eyes frequently, 
 as he gazed on the astonished party below. His 
 only weapon seemed to be a heavy and knotted club, 
 and his left hand rested on the rim of a large shield. 
 Heselrig was as bold as most men of that day, but 
 he was for a moment startled out of his usual non- 
 chalance by this apparition. 
 
 " St Cuthbert of Feme !" he ejaculated, crossing 
 himself, " what monster is this ?" 
 
 " The Ettin, beyond all doubt," replied his 
 ^squire, a young man who had his full share of su-
 
 172 
 
 pel*stition. " We shall be slient ! See! he is ahout 
 to speak!" 
 
 " What want ye here, men of England^ Is it 
 not enough that ye have reft from us our lands 
 and homes, but ye must seek to deprive us of the 
 refuge which Nature allows to the destitute V 
 
 " And what art thou, so grim and barbarous, to 
 eare for the habitations or the rights of men 1 Thy 
 place, sure, hath always been the wilds 1 " asked 
 Heselrig in return. 
 
 '•' Thou and thy kind, foul minion of a tyrant, 
 would bring all men to the level of the beasts. 
 Avaunt! quit my sight! Nature is sick of such 
 as thee, and the pure air of these hills polluted by 
 thy presence." 
 
 He raised his club in a threatening attitude. 
 
 *' He is some overgrowth of a savage Briton, 
 my friends, and nothing else," exclaimed Heselrig, 
 cheerily. " Be not dismayed ; at him again!" 
 
 They still held back, however. 
 
 " Try him with the broad arrow," called out 
 one of the band. " He hath no armour." 
 
 The suggestion was adopted, and two yeomen
 
 173 
 
 drew their bows at the same instant. The figure, 
 with a careless motion, raised his shield ; and, as 
 the arrows flew straight to his body, dashed them 
 aside with a scornful air. 
 
 ** Try him again," cried Heselrig. 
 
 It was done, and with the same result. The 
 men shook their heads, muttering something aboutf 
 " the futility of fighting with a servant of the 
 devil — better retire and leave him." 
 
 " Surely, my men, you would not do me-r-do 
 yourselves that shame," cried Heselrig, seriously 
 alarmed by this unusual faint-heartedness. " Do 
 not imagine he is aught but human ; and, to con- 
 vince you of it, I shall encounter him with mine 
 own arm." 
 
 " By the mass !" muttered one of the men, a 
 little way from Heselrig ; " He will meet with his 
 match there." 
 
 " Beware! beware!" cried another, as the 
 giant raised a stone in his hand, and poised it, in 
 act to throw. It was a fragment of rock like a 
 man's head, and it was hurled directly at Heselrig^ 
 who received it on his helmet, and fell senseless."
 
 174 
 
 " Ha ! down with the tyrants," shouted the Et- 
 tin ; " down with them ! " 
 
 Stone after stone followed, and a man went to 
 the ground with almost every one, until, paralysed 
 by superstitious fear, the remainder took shelter in 
 the narrow approach through which they had 
 reached the spot. After a moment's reflection, 
 compunction arose in the mind of the 'Squire, and 
 shame together, which partly mastered the sensa- 
 tion of fear. 
 
 " I am loyal 'Squire," said he ; " and I must not 
 leave my Knight to the mercy of this monster, 
 fiend though it be." 
 
 So saying, he stepped out again to the open 
 space, and was followed by most of the rest, with 
 pale faces and chattering teeth. But the Ettin 
 was gone ! and nothing to be seen but their 
 wounded leader and comrades on the ground. He- 
 selrig was still insensible, but life was not extinct ; 
 and they were yet deliberating Avhat to do, when 
 one of the other parties arrived. The men of it 
 were struck with astonishment and consternation, 
 but they gave fresh courage to their friends by
 
 175 
 
 their presence ; and, after a little, it was resolved 
 to take this Ettin dead or alive, as they were suf- 
 ficient to do it, and it would be a lasting disgrace 
 should they be all foiled by him. But, after a long 
 and tedious search, during which the third detach- 
 ment arrived, and joined in it, they were obliged to 
 abandon all hopes of finding either the Ettin or 
 the female_, and turned their steps towards Cumnock 
 Castle, firmly convinced that they had, that day, 
 dealt with two spirits of evil. Not a single human 
 being had been seen by the bands which arrived last 
 on the ofround.
 
 176 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 * * * « 
 
 O Scotland ! shall it e'er be mine, 
 To -wreak thy wrongs in battle line ; 
 To raise my victor head and see, 
 Thy hills, thy dales, thy people, free. 
 
 Lord of the Isles. 
 
 '' CoRMACK," said Wallace, one day Tvhen they 
 were alone, " come with me, I have to say to 
 thee.'^ 
 
 They retired to a lonely place. 
 
 " Here," continued he, " is a paper, by which 
 the services of Cormack, the son of Gilcolumb, the 
 son of Farquhar, are made over to me. Thou and 
 thy posterity are, by this deed, my property for 
 ever." 
 
 Cormack knelt before him, holding up his hands 
 joined together, and thus indicating an acknow- 
 ledgment of the duty he owed him.
 
 177 
 
 " Up, free man ! " cried Wallace, with glowing 
 eye. " ! would to God I could raise from crush- 
 ing thraldom, thus easily, the prostrate thousands 
 of my countrymen ! " 
 
 Cormack sprang upright, as if electrified, gaz- 
 ing intently on him. 
 
 " This paper also," continued Wallace, " con- 
 tains a deed of enfranchisement, duly executed, 
 signed and sealed hy me. Take it, my friend ! and 
 when the proud one scorns thee as a slave, stand 
 thou erect before him, and say, ' Hail, brother ! I 
 am thy fellow man.' " 
 
 Cormack, as if actuated by the same feeling, 
 drew himself up, in accordance with direction. 
 
 " Ay, that will do ! Something tells me that 
 the poor serf shall one day shame the haughtiest 
 of the land!" 
 
 " my master," cried Cormack, " you have made 
 me a new man ! What shall I do for you 1 Never, 
 never shall I, with my own consent, leave your 
 side.'* And the poor fellow wept like a child. 
 
 " Hark ye," replied Wallace, " thou shalt share 
 weal and woe with me ; thou shalt share weal and 
 
 h2
 
 178 
 
 woe with thy oppressed country, for to it art thou 
 with me devoted. I know thy heart, and am sure 
 ^ou dost participate ia all my feelings." 
 
 " May God favour me, as I am true to thee, and 
 sink me to perdition when I prove ungrateful 1" re- 
 plied Cormack energetically. 
 
 *' Enough ! I know thee,"^ said Wallace. "And 
 now, my friend, I will unfold to thee some part of 
 the plan which I, a simple youth of tliine own age,, 
 have formed, it may he presumptuously, for the li- 
 beration of our country." 
 
 He then explained to Cormack thaty in his opi- 
 nion, until there was a fair prospect of success, the 
 leading men of Scotland would enter into no con- 
 spiracy against the foreign domination that op- 
 pressed them; hecause an unsuccessful rebellion 
 against Edward would bring them to utter ruin, by 
 the forfeiture of their estates in both countries. 
 '* The stake is too great," said he, " to place on 
 a single hazard ; but if those of the people are 
 engaged in it, who are free to choose for themselves, 
 with the inferior nobles or gentry and the burghers, 
 who have no property in England, we may draw
 
 179 
 
 the great ones of the land along with us — we must, * 
 
 in short, begin at the feet in place of the head, 
 reversing the usual order in such cases." 
 
 " And the serfs are the very sole of the feet," 
 said Corniack. 
 
 " True ; and there is a difficulty. Thou canst 
 understand, Cormack, that although it is most 
 likely the people of that class were originally placed 
 in bondage by iniquitous measures, the law has 
 sanctioned that condition ; and those who are now 
 entitled to the services of serfs, may have pur- 
 chased — as indeed most have — without sharing in 
 the guilt of enslaving, them ; therefore, it is unjust 
 to wrest from a landholder his serfs without remu- 
 neration." 
 
 " It is justly said," remarked Cormack. 
 
 " But," continued Wallace, " if we gain the 
 smaller proprietors, we must begin by representing 
 the necessity for emancipating those people to 
 strengthen ourselves, leaving the equivalent to a 
 grateful country ; and the same reasoning would 
 suit the great proprietors, who, thou knowest, 
 would have the means of securins^ to themselves the
 
 180 
 
 value of their serfs, they being the legislators of 
 the land. In short, for some time, I have been 
 engaged in instilling this doctrine into the ears of 
 as many, and they are very numerous, as I could 
 venture to discuss the question with. And thou 
 wilt be exceedingly useful to me, in going secretly 
 among people, as I do, for I have discovered 
 that thou canst hide thy native shrewdness in 
 an outside appearance of uncommon simplicity; 
 and, in this, with thy stout and trusty heart, I 
 place my chief reliance for success through thy 
 assistance." 
 
 " I fear," said Cormack, " my aid must be 
 feeble indeed, in a cause so great : but I am ready 
 and willing to undertake any thing, even to the 
 death, for thy sake." 
 
 " Not for me," said Wallace; '' but for those 
 wretched objects whom we have talked about in 
 the woods of Riccarton. For those, who like thy- 
 self, have felt the iron rod of oppression, the bitter 
 curse of southern cruelty. It was our conversa- 
 tion about them, Cormack, which induced me to 
 think of thee in my wanderings."
 
 181 
 
 " And men will say, that the rude serf is a 
 strange confident in such high undertaking." 
 
 " So they may ; but I have confidential advisers 
 too. of a diff"erent sort, yet none whom I can better 
 trust than thou. Thou must not breathe a word 
 of what may pass between us to a Crawford. This 
 Governor doth suspect me, and he doth watch the 
 whole kindred. If the latter should be privy to 
 our schemes, mine uncle would be the first victim. 
 I design to bring in the good old man only when 
 the country shall be up in arms ; for, to act other- 
 ^v•ise, would be to take an ungenerous advantage of 
 my connection with him." 
 
 " But," said Cormack, " it doth seem striinge to 
 me that thou shouldst intrust thy inmost secrets 
 with one who like me is so little skilled in things 
 of consequence — so unused to intercourse with 
 men." 
 
 " In good sooth, friend, I do not expect much 
 aid from thy counsel until thou hast gone more 
 among the people we are to deal with ; but thou 
 must know that I can trust thee as I would trust 
 myself; and it doth seem to me, that in talking to
 
 182 
 
 thee, I am but communing witli my own thoughts ; 
 but thou dost fully comprehend my aim and ob- 
 ject?" 
 
 " Clearly and distinctly, because we have so 
 often in yon lone forest talked of the sufferings of 
 our people, and kindled into passion, as if moved 
 by the same spirit, when so engaged." 
 
 " Just so ; and in carrying out my purpose, 
 people of the class thou didst originally belong to, 
 must be mainly instrumental." 
 
 " And it doth appear to me, that, although we 
 have been kept in bondage, we and our sires, from 
 time immemorial, unjustly; still it would be doing 
 an act of injustice to one class, in order to do jus- 
 tice to another, to set them free without the con- 
 sent of their lords, who are innocently, and under 
 sanction of the law, entitled to their services." 
 
 " Precisely what I told thee a little while since. 
 Thou dost understand it thoroughly; and, in order 
 to get their lords to agree, we must point out to 
 them the vast advantage of national independence — 
 the dreadful evils of a permanent tyranny like that 
 of the English Edward, which would reduce, even
 
 1&3 
 
 OUT noBlcs, to a condition little better tlaan tkat of 
 serfs ; and, if the great object of national emanci- 
 pation is effected, I doubt not but the country 
 would gratefully secure the effectual and permanent 
 enfranchisement of those who are so efficacious in 
 relieving it from thraldom. Seest thou ?" 
 
 " Perfectly ; in brief, your object is to emanci- 
 pate the serfs in the first place, their masters 
 agreeing." 
 
 " Exactly so. And already are there some 
 who have gained their freedom from their lords, 
 who are resolved to risk all for the redemption of 
 enslaved Scotland. On the Cumnock Hills is a 
 small band already mustered, and there are more 
 in those wilds than thou dost know uf, even a 
 noble maid, beautiful and brave as the spirit of 
 freedom itself, and another, Avhose lot hath been a 
 sad one for many years." 
 
 " And this damsel, my master, surely it must 
 be grievous misfortune that hath banished her to a 
 place which thou hast described as so remote from 
 the habitations of men." 
 
 " Even feudal rage, my friend, arising out of
 
 184 
 
 hatred and revenge cherished for many bygone 
 years. The Jardines of Annandale ponred like a 
 tempest from the mountains of Moffat, on her fa- 
 ther's broad lands in Lanarkshire, harried them, 
 slew her sire and brethren, and finally wrested the 
 barony to themselves, obtaining from the South- 
 rons such right as they can bestow. She hath 
 dwelt since, and it Avas by miracle she herself 
 escaped, with another outcast equally unfortunate ; 
 for Birnok, a leader of the Jardines, would fain 
 secure another title to the lands by the hand of 
 their heiress." 
 
 " And how did my master know this lady ?" en- 
 quired Cormack. 
 
 " ^Ye are akin to each other, and her family 
 were known to me of old ; but we shall speak more 
 of her another time." 
 
 Cormack smiled. 
 
 " JSTay, by my faith ! thou art too shrewd for 
 me, friend ; but I pray thee, hast thou~seen the 
 daughter of the Goodman of Hilton, Cormack? 
 Men say she hath grown into a comely maiden ?" 
 Cormack turned his head aside.
 
 I85i 
 
 '* I tliink thou must liave seen her at the Gas tie," 
 replied he. 
 
 " Perhaps ; hut I would know what thou dost 
 tliink of her 1 is she not passing fair T' 
 
 *' Indeed; she is." 
 
 "Bost thou not think she is fortunate in having 
 escaped from the reiving Southron ? I will tell thee, 
 too, about him. He hath been here but some few 
 months; and already hath he destroyed two innocent 
 maidens, and rendered two hearths desolate and 
 miserable. He is a sort of monster, seemingly 
 sent by the foul fiend, to prey upon female happi- 
 ness ; for he never casts his eye on a likely form 
 that he doth not covet — never covets but he doth 
 seek to possess, by the readiest means at hand; 
 treating with scorn and indifference the feelings of 
 parents — the laws alike of God and man ; and 
 above all, the agonized feelings of his wretched 
 victims, because they are Scots." 
 
 " God will one day requite him," said Cormack. 
 
 " Unfortunately for those under this Governor, 
 Heselrig hath so gained his confidence, that he 
 doth find little difficulty in hoodwinking him, vigi-
 
 186 
 
 lant though he doth think himself; even his spies, 
 I lately learnt, are in many cases controlled hy 
 Heselrig, and instructed as to their intelligence. 
 Now, this Southron Lord, hard and little merciful 
 as he is to the enemies of his King, hath yet a he- 
 coming sense of propriety with him in regard 
 to the affairs of his government ; and he is zea- 
 lous and faithful in the discharge of what he doth 
 imagine to be his duty to this tyrant ; therefore 
 he would resent these practices of his vassal as in- 
 jurious to the cause of the Southron, if he was made 
 aware of them ; but such is the cunning of this 
 knavish Knight, that beyond the character which 
 he brought from England, he knoweth nothing." 
 " It is pity he knoweth not of those cases." 
 " I thought so, my friend, and had the facts 
 communicated in such a way, that I believed he 
 would give credit to them ; but Heselrig managed, 
 with his usual cleverness, to persuade him it was 
 only a proof of his zeal in behalf of his country, 
 which the Scots fearing had made up the tale to in- 
 jure him with the Governor. Nay, it is strange, 
 that one so shrewd and sagacious should be so
 
 187 
 
 swayed by another, as this Governor is by his fa- 
 vourite retainer." 
 
 Wallace having, from his intimate knowledge of 
 this humble friend, the most perfect confidence in 
 his fidelity, resolved, by conversations like the fore- 
 going, to instruct him in the part which he meant 
 him to play in the wild and somewhat chimerical 
 scheme he had formed for the liberation of his 
 country. That it was so, his own good sense sug- 
 gested to him ; but at the same time, his sanguine 
 disposition would ever urge him onwards — and 
 then would come the reflection, that his country- 
 men could scarcely suffer more than they did ; and 
 that he should therefore persevere, even if his 
 prospect of success was obscure and uncertain, 
 while there was but a chance of throwing off the 
 yoke. We shall soon see that Cormack, instructed 
 in the rare arts of reading and writing the English 
 language with wonderful facility at Loudon, was 
 not slower in comprehending and suiting himself 
 to the plans of his patron and supporter.
 
 188 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Go to ! thou art a counterfeit cowardly knave ! 
 * * * Why dost thou grovel on the ground ? 
 
 Shakespkare. 
 
 It was market-day in the town of Ayr — and the 
 streets were crowded with people from various dis- 
 tricts of the country. The wild looking men of 
 the upland districts, and of Carrick and Galloway, 
 speaking the ancient language of the land, mixed 
 freely with the Saxon of Lower Cunningham and 
 Kyle, who generally had some knowledge of the 
 Celtic, from their neighbours and their menials ; 
 but, on such days, the difference of race was apt to 
 give rise to frequent brawls and bloodshed. Seldom 
 did such occasion pass without both, the immediate 
 cause being the preference, which it was suspected, 
 the ofiicers of the Seneschal shewed to those who 
 were of southern descent, in dealing for supplies of
 
 189 
 
 provisions to the garrison, which, being the princi- 
 pal source whence the demand for cattle and horses, 
 together with corn, emanated, led all parties to turn 
 their eyes especially in that direction (for where the 
 Goyernor resided, the Southrons paid better for 
 their provisions than the impoverished natives), 
 and to watch with jealousy the proceedings of 
 others, with the important functionaries who nego- 
 tiated its purchases. 
 
 A rough looking personage, with a huge sheep- 
 head-hilted broadsword at his side, came elbowing 
 his way through a crowd, near the cross, where one 
 of the officers in question was bargaining for some 
 fat oxen, and without much ceremony, in fact rather 
 like a man who was somewhat angry, enquired if 
 the officer wished for more cattle 1 
 
 " No, truly, friend, I do not want thine now," 
 was the answer. 
 
 " And wherefore, I pray tlieeT' enquired he re- 
 spectfully enough. 
 
 " Because I met witli -beasts that suit me better 
 than thine." 
 
 " But mine wm-e bought, and are by this at
 
 190 
 
 the Castle ; I was looking for thee to get my 
 money." 
 
 " And thou mayest look long enough, I tell thee ; 
 these are hotter than thine, man." 
 
 " But I say," replied the other, " I have missed 
 the market through thy means, and it is no more 
 than just that mine should be taken also." 
 
 " Poh ! thou art troublesome." 
 
 " I do but ask what is just," said the Scot, look- 
 ing round him ; but he met only cold glances among 
 the crowd, whe were surprised that he would venture 
 to bandy words with a person so important ; yet 
 there was one man who was bold enough to 
 hint that it would be " a black loss to the poor 
 man." 
 
 " Black loss or white loss," quoth the facetious 
 Southron, " it is none of thine ; so hold thy tongue, 
 if thou wouldst keep both thine ears." 
 
 The intruder turned pale at these words, and 
 slank away. 
 
 " Stand fiirther off," cried the impatient ojQ5- 
 cer, a little chafed, to the injured man, and giving 
 him a push as he spoke. The latter - quietfy gave
 
 191 
 
 way ; but as if involuntarily, his hand lighted on 
 the sheep head of his sword hilt. 
 
 " Ha, knave ! this to me ! Knowest thou what 
 thou art about 1 ha !" 
 
 " I did mean nothing," said the other, quietly, 
 almost humbly. 
 
 " Mean / what care I for thy meaning, carle '? 
 There, follow thy skull-cap, goodman delver." So 
 saying, he took off the man's bonnet, and sent it 
 skimming among the crowd. 
 
 But this was too much for the patience of the 
 individual, and the broadsword was drawn ere 
 cool reflection came. A friend behind called out, 
 " For God's sake take care, Dugald ! Pull him 
 back, some one ! Hold him ! " 
 
 A few gathered round and between him and the 
 Castle functionary; but' the greater portion of the 
 crowd fled from the spot like quicksilver. Mean- 
 while, the officer regarded the now furious country- 
 man with a grim and sarcastic smile, and turned 
 away. Recollecting himself immediately, the Scot 
 slowly returned his sword to the scabbard, and, 
 deeply groaning, muttered, " My home ! my wife
 
 192 
 
 and children shall suffer for this ! he doth know 
 me too well." 
 
 " And wert thou not rash, and like a madman, 
 to beard him here T' said a friend. 
 
 *' Alack ! friend, I am but a man ; we should be 
 saints to bear all that is put upon us." 
 
 " Come with me," said another, a very tall man, 
 in a soothing tone, " into this hostelry, where we 
 jshall talk over some other matters. Think not af 
 the proud Southron." 
 
 The poor man, as he cooled in temper, became 
 more distressed in mind ; but he met with com- 
 forters he little expected in his tall friend and his 
 companions, only one of whom he knew. 
 
 The tall man was a stranger to him ; but he 
 was obseryed on that day to be singularly active 
 in stilling tumults of all sorts, and always by re- 
 moving the Scot from the scene, when the quarrel 
 originated between one of the latter and a Sauthron. 
 In another part of the town, a number of people, 
 among whom were several of the garrison, easily 
 known by their dress, collected round a large 
 stout man, who lay on the ground, and in the most
 
 taunting and provoking manner offered his back to 
 any Scot (but no Englishman) who would pay him 
 the sum of one penny for a blow with a quarter- 
 staff as heavy as he could inflict. This personage 
 was a sort of strong man, bully, or prize-fighter, 
 in the garrison ; and the mode he adopted of 
 shewing his scorn of the Scots, and of earning 
 money for himself, was quite in accordance with 
 the spirit of the times among the class to which 
 he belonged. He used a sort of rowley-powley 
 harangue, well adapted to raise the wrath of the 
 Scots : and manv of them tried their strenscth on 
 the broad back of the bully, but departed sadly 
 humbled, and followed by a shout from the South- 
 rons present, and a hearty laugh from the person 
 on whom his wrath was expended. 
 
 " These Scots," cried the fellow, " have not the 
 pith of cats." 
 
 " Because their food is all devoured by thee and 
 thine," exclaimed a voice from the crowd. 
 
 *' The more fools you to allow it, that is, if yc 
 
 can prevent it," said the man, witli another laugh. 
 
 " Come along ; come, my gallant Scots, — only one 
 
 I
 
 194 
 
 penny ! and ye may strike with all your heart and 
 soul, taking revenge on the false Southrons that 
 eat your food, and make ye as feckless as mice. 
 Come ! I wonder how many Scots go to the making 
 of one Englishman ! Let me see ! I think I could 
 match ten of them in even fight, for my own share, 
 — yes, about ten, I think. Come ! strong Scots, 
 strong men, destroy the saucy Englishman ; waste 
 a little of your great strength on him that doth 
 laugh at you. Come, my mighty men, only one 
 penny ! Thou art big and burly enough to have 
 some little spunk in thee, though but a Scot. 
 Wilt thou try?" 
 
 This was addressed to the tall countryman we 
 have already noticed, who was looking quietly on. 
 
 *' Why dost thou, a stout man, grovel on the 
 ground like a beast I Canst thou not rather fight 
 the people thou dost jeer so? " 
 
 " Marry would I, and gladly, if any would come 
 forward, and I think I may venture to take up 
 ten, as I said before ; but where are they ? " en- 
 quired he ; " wilt thou make one ? I warrant me 
 thou canst fight with thy teeth and nails now."
 
 195 
 
 " Aye, and with spear and buckler too." 
 
 " Spear and buckler ! thou hast heard the 
 Tvords somewhere, doubtless ? " 
 
 " Or this little playdiiug," said the tall coun- 
 tryman, " an' one might meet thee on a hill side 
 not here." 
 
 " A fair challenge, Gilbert," cried a Southron, 
 laughing ; " by the Lord, thou art in bad case now, 
 to underlie such a perilous cartel." 
 
 *' Yea, truly ; I may take a turn with thee, 
 friend, after my play is over, an' thou canst keep 
 up thy courage so long." 
 
 " By St Andrew will I ! and e'en join in thy 
 play, too ; there is my penny, give me thestaff.' ' 
 
 " Now spare him, strong one, do not break his 
 back," said the same Southron, laughing heartily, 
 and the bully joining him, though not so viva- 
 ciously. There was something in the aspect of 
 the Scot, as he took the staff, that impressed him 
 with a degree of fear, and the result justified it. 
 No sooner had the blow descended, than the luck- 
 less bully gave a loud yell, and then lay still and 
 motionless.
 
 396 
 
 "Saints in Heaven! is it possible T' cried 
 a Southron. " Can his back be broken by a 
 Scotr' 
 
 He shcTred no signs of returning animation, and 
 the Southrons began to scowl furiously at the coun- 
 tryman, and then openly to vent their rage in 
 words. 
 
 " Thou hast slain our strong man," said one. 
 " Vile Scot ! thou must pay for it." 
 
 " I pray you to remember," said the latter 
 calmly, '' that I only answered his challenge to all 
 of my country, and if he is killed, which I do not 
 believe, it hath happened in the fair course of play. 
 I am blameless." 
 
 " Thou shalt to the Castle, to answer it to the 
 Seneschal." 
 
 " Nay ! nay ! this were hard measure to a man 
 who hath his bestial to look after at the fair." 
 
 The hubbub increased, notwithstanding the cool 
 demeanour of the countryman ; and " down with 
 the rascal Scot ! Slay an Englishman, indeed ! An' 
 he go not to the Castle, have at him, gallants ! 
 with your staves — Slay him where he stands!"
 
 197 
 
 were heard on all sides, while the crowd increased ; 
 and blows were soon aimed at the successful, yet 
 luckless player at a dangerous game, who unex- 
 pectedly found himself involved in a squabble with 
 people whom he was most anxious to avoid, the 
 followers of the Governor. 
 
 " What a plague," thought he, " had I to do 
 with this villanous bully, " while he prepared, 
 nevertheless, to defend himself as well as he could 
 by placing his back to the wall of the nearest 
 house, and calling his friends around him, one es- 
 pecially, who had been seen with him the whole 
 day, and who now ranged himself beside him. The 
 Southrons contented themselves at first with using 
 staves only, or the butt ends of spears, and the 
 countryman parried their strokes with much steadi- 
 ness and address, until his companion fell at his 
 feet, prostrated by a blow on the head. As he 
 bestrode him, he perceived the man who had brought 
 him to the ground, heated apparently by the con- 
 test, aiming the point of his spear at him, as he 
 lay defenceless, while others redoubled their exer- 
 tions against himself, till his wrath was also roused.
 
 198 
 
 and he struck the man with the spear over the 
 head so heavily^ that his skull was shattered like 
 an egg-shell, and the quarter-staff broken in two 
 pieces. 
 
 The countryman was dressed in a doublet of 
 home-spun gray cloth, with coarse worsted hose^ 
 and had a broad bonnet on his head, which he 
 wore far down over the ears, so that his features 
 were little seen, until at this stage of the fray, he 
 received, at the same instant, a blow on the head, 
 that carried off" the bonnet, and a spear-thrust in 
 the side, which ripped open his doublet. A momen- 
 tary pause ensued, while the crowd scanned him 
 eagerly and curiously. 
 
 '• St George to speed ! the knave hath an iron 
 knapscuU under his bonnet ; and see ! if he have 
 not a secrette also ! a steel-shirt, my mates, be- 
 neath his hodden-gray." 
 
 Cries of surprise ensued ; others pressed for- 
 ward to see this disguised person, and, among the 
 rest, our acquaintance, AVatt of Badley, who, 
 now quite restored, just then arrived on the 
 scene of action, and, gazing for an instant at
 
 199 
 
 tlie pretended countryman, exclaimed, in an eager 
 tone — 
 
 " It is Wallace, the Sheriff's nephew ! I rede 
 you all take care of his arm, my friends ; keep a 
 little off, and bore him with your spears ; he hath 
 but a sword." 
 
 Great was the astonisliment, for the fame of 
 Wallace had already been pretty widely spread, 
 as a youth of vast strength and great courage. 
 During the pause, our friend Cormack arose from 
 his master's feet, in the garb also of a decent 
 yeoman, but so altered in appearance since their 
 last rencounter, that he was unrecognised by Watt. 
 
 At the noise and repetition of Wallace's name, 
 many of his friends ran to the spot ; and, as the 
 number of Southrons also increased, a serious tu- 
 mult was the consequence. Wallace, exceedingly 
 annoyed by the occurrence, was most anxious to 
 escape, and expressed himself to that effect among 
 his friends, but it was almost impossible, the crowd 
 of opponents being so dense. The conflict now 
 raged along the street. The friends of Wallace, 
 aware of his object, charged desperately in one
 
 200 
 
 particular spot, and actually forced their way 
 through, hut they were followed by a still increas- 
 ing body of Southrons, and obliged to fight obsti- 
 nately, until they got near the bridge, where a 
 party succeeded in getting before and intercepting 
 them ; while, at the same instant, a body of men 
 arrived from the Castle for the purpose of sup- 
 pressing the riot. The case was now desperate 
 with the Scots. Wallace became furious, and at 
 every blow levelled a man, while his adherents 
 were also falling beside him. At last, worn out 
 and faint with wounds and fatigue, he fell under a 
 party who all charged him at the same moment, and 
 directed their strokes solely at him. He lay motion- 
 less, and to all appearance dead, while his friends 
 dispersed almost unheeded; so much were the 
 Southrons occupied with this formidable cham- 
 pion. 
 
 It was now dusk, and just as the conflict ended, 
 Heselrig rode up with another band. He was 
 greatly rejoiced by the news ; and as it was neces- 
 sary that all the bodies should be inspected in 
 broad day, he directed that tlie dead should be
 
 201 
 
 thrown into an open space, at the river side, 
 used as a deposit for dung and offal of all sorts. 
 After the slain Scots were deposited in this place, 
 and a small guard placed over them for the night, 
 Ileselrig directed proper persons to make known, 
 in the town, that any one who endeavoured to 
 remove a body should be held guilty of treason, 
 and punished accordingly. He thus souglit to 
 ensure the fate of Vrallace, and at the same 
 time to heap indignity on his remains. After 
 every one had departed from this spot, and tran- 
 quillity was completely restored, the men who were 
 left as a guard began to converse freely on the 
 subject. 
 
 " A stout fellow, comrades, that Wallace ; no 
 play with him," said one. 
 
 " Ay, truly," replied another. " By Bevis of 
 Hampton ! his blows fell, like the sledge-hammer 
 of a smith. No man needed a second where the 
 first went." 
 
 " It is pity of him, Scot though he was ; trust 
 me, my mates, this knight Heselrig hatli felt his 
 
 I 2
 
 202 
 
 arm, or he would not expose the body in this man- 
 ner. It is poor spite." 
 
 " Hush, man ! I think so too, but speak not so 
 loud." 
 
 Here a stranger struck in. 
 
 " A cold night, friends ; may one ask why you 
 are stationed here, partisan in handT' 
 
 " Surely ; it is no secret," replied one of the men, 
 and proceeded to relate the facts. 
 
 " And is it possible that you are here to guard 
 the town from dead men, and in such a night too ! 
 I pray you come with me. Leaye one man ; it is 
 surely enough for the occasion ; and come to my 
 lodging hard bye for a stoup of wine, or a flagon of 
 ale, in return for which you shall tell me of the 
 fray, for I long to get all particulars." 
 
 " What ! leave our post ! begone with thee ! 
 begone ! lest we be tempted to give thee payment 
 for thy insolence." 
 
 And they shouldered their halberts, and walked 
 about manfully. The stranger withdrew, but he 
 could see they were casting wistful glances after 
 him.
 
 203 
 
 " Another hour," thought he, " of this sharp 
 cold will suffice." 
 
 When the inhabitants were wrapped in sleep, 
 this wily person returned, under pretence of en- 
 quiring after a friend, who he had discovered was 
 engaged in the affair, and perhaps had fallen. 
 
 He succeeded in enticing them into a corner out 
 of the cold wind, where he liberally gave out, from 
 a flask he had brought, the welcome liquid. They 
 were scarcely out of sight of the slain men more 
 than two minutes, yet next morning the body of 
 Wallace had disappeared, — a fact which irritated 
 and mortified Heselrig exceedingly, as he had, in 
 the pride of his heart, gone directly to the Gover- 
 nor, on the preceding evening, and informed him of 
 the death of William Wallace, whom the latter was 
 so anxious to get within his grasp, and upon whom 
 he had hitherto been unable to fasten any parti- 
 cular act of treason, although he knew he was 
 hatching it. The Governor did not conceal the 
 pleasure the news gave him, and told Heselrig that 
 this fortunate event would make up for the late 
 unhappy failure in the Cumnock Hills, which had
 
 204 
 
 surprised and vexed them both beyond measure, 
 and had spread consternation among all the troops 
 of the garrison, the account given of the giant, by 
 their comrades, being so dreadful. Piercy had, in 
 fact, ever since the occurrence, been actively en- 
 gaged, by means of his spies, in trying to discover 
 what became of the men on that occasion, who, he 
 knew by certain information, had for some time 
 occupied the fastnesses of the hills, and whom he 
 sent Heselrig to capture ; but hitherto he had met 
 with little success. The spies could give no ac- 
 count of the Ettin, and some of them were inclined 
 to believe, with others, that the whole glen and its 
 population were under the influence of magic ; and 
 that the beautiful witch could conjure up any 
 figures she chose, whether in the shape of a single 
 giant, or fifty vvild men of the mountains. It was 
 the same to her, equally easy, — perhaps the alte- 
 ration of a single note in the gamut of that en- 
 chanted horn would make the change. Doubtless 
 all the devils at her command knew it. 
 
 It is hard to tell how far even the more enlight- 
 fi;u-cd mind of Heselrig and his Lord were under
 
 205 
 
 the influence of tlie belief in magic on this occa- 
 sion. Certainly, the uniform account given by the 
 men, of the preternatural beauty she possessed^ 
 and the strange melody of her voice, was calcu- 
 lated to make an impression unfavourable to the 
 earthly nature of this damsel. The daring charac- 
 ter of Heselrig's disposition enabled him to throw 
 off every feeling of the sort that obtruded itself, es- 
 pecially when it stood in the way of any object of 
 pleasure he sought to obtain ; yet he seemed occa- 
 sionally, by his remarking, that it " was passing 
 strange," '" out of the common way," and so forth^ 
 to shew that ho was not free from doubt on the 
 subject. From the subsequent conversation of the 
 Governor, it is probable that if he had doubts re- 
 garding the human nature of the people who inha- 
 bited that glen, they were confined to one party 
 there. 
 
 " Heselrig," asked he, next day, " wouldst thou 
 make thy fortune by marriage 1 " 
 
 '• Yes, my Lord," was the answer. '* Surely, 
 provided my wife should be one that would not 
 interfere with me much."
 
 206 
 
 *' Which doth mean, I presume, that you would 
 desire to sway her as you might think proper. 
 Why, every man should rule his wife ; and if she 
 lets you do more than that, and with discretion 
 too, she is no true woman." 
 
 " But I meant, with submission, to insinuate 
 that, in the article of spirit, she should not he a 
 true woman, for, in good sooth, I could not stand 
 her chiding. May I enquire wherefore hath your 
 Lordship put the question ^ " 
 
 " For this reason ; there is a richly-endowed 
 heiress, of birth and blood equal to thine own, 
 whom I should like to see united to a true subject 
 of King Edward." 
 
 " That I surely am ; but it will be small re- 
 commendation to a fair damsel, my Lord," said he, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Nay, thou must recommend thyself; yet, as 
 she is a Scot, there will be less ceremony in the 
 courtship, especially as she is or should be a ward 
 of the Crown." 
 
 " A Scot," muttered Ileselrig, with a look of
 
 207 
 
 disappointment ; " in truth I love them not, male 
 nor female." 
 
 " Come," said Piercy, " Arthur Heselrig, thou 
 art misrepresented, if any pretty woman, Scot or 
 Southron, would be disagreeable to thee." 
 
 *' Yea, that may be true, in some sort; but a 
 wife is another matter." 
 
 " Mark me," said Piercy, " I did speak bluntly 
 and plainly to thee lately about this damsel of the 
 Cumnock Hills, and not without sure information, 
 thou hadst seen her, and was struck by her beauty. 
 Then, the promise had been given to another, who, 
 though a Scot, was a firm friend of our Sovereign, 
 and it was my duty to prevent thee from follow- 
 ing her. He is no more, and the course is open 
 to any deserving subject." 
 
 Here he paused and smiled. 
 
 " What ! is that damsel, then, and this rich 
 heiress, the same ?" 
 
 " Even so. Unless there be another in those 
 wilds resembling her, which I can hardly believe." 
 
 Heselrig perceived at a glance the immense ad- 
 vantage which he gained by this overture ; and,
 
 208 
 
 with an air of great frankness, admitted that he 
 had been captivated by the beauty of the damsel 
 on that day, but had not thouglit of prosecuting 
 " the adventure " after the admonition of his Lord. 
 
 " Thou hast been a man of much gallantry, He- 
 selrig, and thou shouldst know the arts by which 
 youthful maidens are ensnared ; and I would rather 
 that thou could'st gain her consent freely than that 
 the authority of her king, as overlord, should be 
 employed, in the present state of this country." 
 
 " Why, to speak the truth," replied the other, 
 " I have not been accustomed to use long court- 
 ship in my aiiairs — military men have scant time 
 for it." 
 
 " That is to say, those thou hast dealt with were 
 of a different class ; for thou art not one of the 
 beautiful youths who slay young women by a 
 look." 
 
 " No, my Lord, I am like my craft, rough and 
 unseemly in the external," said he, with a humble 
 look. 
 
 " But thou hast merit of a higher order, it 
 would be unjust not to say, when thou art so un-
 
 209 
 
 pretending. Briefly, here is the tale of this maiden : 
 — Her father was Baron of Lammington5in Lanark- 
 shire ; and between him and a clan of Aunandale 
 men, called Jardine, a fierce feud raged ; the latter 
 stormed the castle of the former, burnt it, and slew 
 her sire and several brothers, together with a num- 
 ber of men. This maid alone, of her family, 
 escaped ; and she was so hotly pursued by Bir- 
 nok, a nephew of the Jardine chief, that — so the 
 story goes, true or false I know not — he overtook 
 her short space from the burning tower. She had 
 a few attendants with her; the Jardine had fol- 
 lowed the chase also with but few ; so she wheeled 
 her horse round abruptly, calling on her men to do 
 the same. A scuffle ensued ; and the result was 
 that the Annandale men were completely routed. 
 It was said that their leader got a severe wound 
 from the dagger of this heroine, in the melee. A 
 bride of spirit, ha ! Sir Arthur ?" 
 
 '* By my faith she is! " replied Heselrig, " an' it 
 be only exerted on such occasions, far be it from 
 me to quarrel with it." 
 
 " Well ! the Jardines, after they had made an
 
 210 
 
 heiress of her, were determined to reap all the 
 advantage, for this Birnok lay in Avait for, and 
 had well nigh forced her off from the castle of a 
 kinsman in the same county, when she took fright, 
 and hid herself in the Cumnock wilds, which it 
 is said she knew of, by hearing her mother speak 
 of them, she being one of those MacEies who owned 
 the place." 
 
 " I heard of them while at Cumnock, in the rude 
 rhymes of an old harper there, who hath picked 
 them up in the neighbourhood," said Heselrig. 
 
 " Ay, indeed ! they are just a race to give 
 theme to minstrels. Some fifty years agone, the 
 lord or chief of that district, who bore the name of 
 MacRie, was guilty of some act of aggression on a 
 neighbouriug baron, and refused reparation, be- 
 cause, as he alleged, he was the injured party. 
 This baron applied for aid to the Bailie of the 
 Great Steward, to whom most of the lands in Kyle, 
 of yore, did belong, and both speedily invaded 
 the country of MacRie, to spoil it. And, in con- 
 sequence of the representations of this Bailie to 
 the Steward, and of the latter to the King, the
 
 211 
 
 lands were forfeited to the Crown, and granted 
 to Cospatrick of March. It is said that, when the 
 latter took possession, he was resisted by the for- 
 mer occupants of the land, and that, on being 
 worsted, they, to a man, left the place, and have 
 disappeared from the district entirely. MacRie 
 fell in a skirmish with Ochiltree, and his son has 
 never been heard of; it is supposed he turned 
 monk. 
 
 " A tale that may be told of many lands both 
 here and in England; the law of the strong arm 
 hath prevailed." 
 
 *' In troth, I fear it hath been so ; I think these 
 wild MacRies have been harshly used, for they had 
 only done to their neighbours what the latter had 
 done to them ; slaughtered a few beeves, perhaps 
 carried off some, which we of Northumberland 
 know to be but neighbourly practice." 
 
 " And this tale, my Lord, hath been told to me 
 because these MacRies were akin to my future lady- 
 love." 
 
 " Just so ; her mother was daughter of the last 
 MacRie, who ruled Cumnock. But enough of this
 
 212 
 
 — we must to business ; and I think what I have 
 said will whet thee to my purpose. In brief, then, 
 thou hast my sanction to win this maiden honour- 
 ably ; but if she be in league with rebels on these 
 hills, the case thou seest will be altered, and 
 she must share the fate of her comrades, so far as 
 lands are concerned." 
 
 " Yet the law would be construed mildly in fa- 
 vour of a zealous servant doubtless, my Lord.'* 
 
 " Perchance that may be ; but, Sir Arthur, be 
 not reckoning the value of the prize ere thou hast 
 won it, — thou knowest the fable of the bear and his 
 skin. In few words, another attempt must be made 
 to unravel the mystery that hangs over this glen, 
 an' it were for nothing else but to shew my yeomen 
 that the devil hath not a fixed habitation there : 
 Art thou strong enough for another onslaught on 
 itV 
 
 " Strong and ready," cried Heselrig ; " although 
 my head simmers yet occasionally, I desire ardently 
 another encounter with that strange and monstrous 
 savage." 
 
 " Thou dost not think there is any thing unna-
 
 213 
 
 tiTral in him, then," said Piercy, musingly ; yet men 
 say his size was more than mortal." 
 
 " They were all under the influence of the tales 
 they had heard; and, even before this wild man 
 appeared, they were scared out of their senses ; su- 
 perstition did it all, my Lord." 
 
 " Yet, if history is to be credited, giants of un- 
 couth form have existed in all ages ; wherefore 
 should there not be one in a place so well suited to 
 them 1 Thy courage, Heselrig, is proof, therefore 
 I speak freely to thee; and if thou canst bring 
 this adventure to a happy issue, whether as it re- 
 lates to the damsel, outlaws, or giant, who are sup- 
 posed to inhabit there, thou shalt win my favour 
 permanently, and to thy satisfaction in regard to 
 the succession of your father in Lanark. He is to 
 depart in another week, and some one must suc- 
 ceed ; therefore, be expeditious, and consider thou 
 hast much to gain by success." 
 
 " In good troth, my Lord," said Heselrig, with a 
 look of perplexity, " I should like to have some 
 fresh men, for the knaves will shudder at the 
 thought of returning to that spot."
 
 214 
 
 " Get volunteers frqm the garrison, whom thoii 
 wilt." 
 
 '* They are scared alike with those who were 
 present, so well hath the tale been told," 
 
 " Stay ! this may do — some men are to arrive 
 in two days from Glasgow, — thou mayest contrive 
 to have them off before they have time to be in- 
 fected by the fears of my people ; truth to say, this 
 business is little to our credit, and I would have it 
 kept as quiet as possible till the mystery is solved. 
 A few young knights among them, such as Ridley 
 Featherstone and Foster, have been speaking of 
 trying the adventure, but it hath been declined at 
 my suggestion. We must ensure success to the 
 next attempt. Thou knowest that slaying a giant 
 is the very acme of chivalrous achievement; for 
 the race have ever been the bane of ladies fair and 
 errant knights. Thou, who art read, knowest all 
 this." 
 
 Heselrig, who was more of an infidel on this 
 point, marvelled exceedingly at the style of his 
 Lord's conversation ; and, although he himselff elt 
 at times the fears of his comrades, they were
 
 215 
 
 easily shaken off". He, therefore, with the suspi- 
 cion that usually belongs to unprincipled people, 
 believed that his Lord had a covert object in thus 
 encouraging the notion that this giant was a real, 
 and a bona fide Ettin, such as are treated of in the 
 old romances." 
 
 " And now," said Piercy, interrupting this train 
 of reflection, " the disagreeable affair of the tumult 
 must be thought of. Would to heaven the rogue 
 had been slain outright ! I foresee much sedition 
 and trouble in the career of that young rebel ; — it 
 is doubted whether he was not busy in sowing the 
 seeds of some plot on this very day ; for he was 
 observed to take all the turbulent Scots into a pri- 
 vate apartment, in an hostelry, where he held them 
 all long in discourse. Had he not been well allied," 
 continued Piercy, stamping with his foot, " ere this 
 he had fed the ravens!" 
 
 " With submission, the man of good family con- 
 nexion is the best for an example." 
 
 *' Yea, but not the safest. Slender proof will 
 suffice in the case of a churl ; but with a man like 
 this, we must have conclusive evidence, or his
 
 216 
 
 kindred \Yill flock in a body to our King with their 
 supplications, and give much hindrance and ob- 
 struction to the course of justice." 
 
 " Yet, on this occasion, I think still he may 
 have been fairly despatched ; I cannot believe he is 
 alive. His friends would steal the body for the 
 rites of burial alone." 
 
 " There is so much of craft about him, that I 
 can scarcely believe he hath not feigned himself 
 dead, and his friends being aware of the deceit, 
 thus carried him off. Were it the case of another 
 man, I would not doubt of his death." 
 
 " What are my Lord's commands in the pre- 
 mises T' 
 
 " Cause proclamation to be made on three suc- 
 cessive days, through this town, that whereas one 
 William Wallace hath been accused of stirring up 
 the lieges to tumult and sedition, a reward shall be 
 given for his apprehension." 
 
 *' It shall be done forthwith, and I think with 
 much security ; for the proof is clear that he was 
 cause and origin of the tumult." 
 
 " I have considered it, and I am resolved to cut
 
 217 
 
 him short, for there is much danger in the career 
 he has now entered upon. As for the good 
 Sheriff, we must e'en let him believe that we 
 know not this is the same person with his nephew. 
 I know he cannot control him ; and that, for his 
 own sake, he hath kept aloof from his schemes. 
 His son, the stout Captain of Cumnock, hath 
 made further attempts to discover the mystery of 
 the glen, but ineffectually. These outlaws, who- 
 ever they may be, have some means of escape 
 which we have not discovered. If this be certain, 
 Heselrig, thou shalt not succeed in the morning. 
 The fog is quite sufficient then to screen them. 
 Make thy next attempt in the afternoon, when thou 
 shalt have the fair light of day to aid thee ; and I 
 bethink me, thou must not breathe a word of thy 
 intention, even to those who go with thee, until 
 thou art on the entrance into the valley, for the 
 knave hath spies and agents at work every where, 
 and I fear me he knoweth more about the secrets of 
 that place than is good for his Highness' service." 
 So saying, the Governor nodded his head myste- 
 riously.
 
 218 
 
 " Indeed, my Lord ! Nay if he be consorting with 
 thieves and limmers, he is as good as outLaw al- 
 ready." 
 
 " I tell thee, Heselrig, as I have said before in 
 secret conference, that he hath been, till yesterday, 
 too crafty to commit himself in any way, so that I 
 may do no more than merely guess at his motives, 
 and suspect his intentions ; else, think not, he should 
 have been abroad till now to plague and harass 
 me. By Saint Cuthert! had he been the noblest 
 in the land, as he is but a paltry baron or rather 
 'squire's second son, he had been crushed in my 
 grasp long ere this, if witness could have been had 
 against him." 
 
 " Even those who were put to the question — did 
 they confess nothing to implicate him 1 " 
 
 " Nothing beyond the fact that he conversed 
 with them on the wretched state of their common 
 country; enough to subject serfs and churls to a 
 few torments, but not sufficient to reach the head 
 of a noble gentleman. Thou wouldst not treat 
 them in the same manner, wouldst thou V — seeing 
 a sort of smile in Heselrig' s countenance.
 
 219 
 
 " Nay, far be it from me to question your Lord- 
 ship's policy ; it is wisdom to be cautious where the 
 King is apt to come in as thirdsman, albeit less for 
 the individual than his own interest ; yet, that 
 Dame Justice is usually painted blind" — 
 
 " Whicli means, thou knowest, that she is to 
 hoodwink and deceive those with whom she deals ; 
 and thus am I her true servitor, for never will the 
 Lord Piercy think the noble and the slave alike, 
 even among the population of Scotland."
 
 220 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 It was a strange and wild retreat 
 As e'er was trod by outlaw s feet. 
 
 The grey mist left the mountain side, 
 
 The torrent shewed its glistening pride ; 
 
 Invisible in flecked sky 
 
 The lark sent down his revelry ; 
 
 The blackbird and the speckled thrush 
 
 Good -morrow gave from brake and bush. 
 
 Ladi/ of the Lake, 
 
 Some weeks after the occurrences just related, 
 we find Wallace seated on a verdant bank, farther 
 up the stream of Afton than that spot which we 
 have described as the scene of Heselrig's discom- 
 fiture. He was paler than usual, yet he appeared 
 to have recovered completely from the injuries he 
 received in the tumult at Ayr. Seated by his side 
 was the lovely vision who was still the object of 
 busy and anxious conjecture; not only among the
 
 221 
 
 southron but Scottish inhabitants of the sur- 
 rounding country. She was sitting under the shade 
 of a tree, and, having thrown off her cap, her hair 
 appeared in natural ringlets spread over a neck of 
 dazzling whiteness. Her face was turned upwards 
 towards Wallace, with an eager expression ; her 
 lips slightly apart, as if she was anxiously taking 
 in every word that fell from him, and her cheeks 
 flushed with emotion. It was evident, at first sight 
 of her then, that she was nothing but a creature of 
 this world, and actuated by the feelings of our 
 common nature. He, too, who was gazing on that 
 countenance, thought that a lovelier never belonged 
 to any being, whether celestial or terrestrial. 
 
 " But," said she, '* thou didst not tell me how 
 thy escape was made from the men who guarded 
 what they believed to be thy lifeless body ?" 
 
 " That is easily done," replied he. " Cormack 
 had a boat brought close to the river-brink, where 
 they laid me, and so quietly, that it was never 
 heard or suspected by the Southrons; — thither 
 went he with two other friends, while a third, pro- 
 vided with a flask of strono; waters, drew the guard
 
 222 
 
 aside for a very short space, during which he and 
 the others stepped out of the boat, and, easily re- 
 cognising me, had me placed in it immediately, 
 and carried very stealthily across to the New- 
 town, where they set to work to discover if any 
 life remained, and, by the blessing of God and the 
 help of a good chirurgeon, I was speedily restored to 
 myself, though grievously wounded. The first object 
 I was sensible of was Cormack's face, which bore 
 a sort of perplexed expression — hope and surprise 
 being strangely mixed in it. After about an hour 
 it was judged unsafe to remain there, and I was 
 carried, in a litter, on that same night, to the woods 
 of Eiccarton, where I have been since, unknown to 
 any but the good chirurgeon, who always at night 
 visited me, and who would scarcely allow me to set 
 out yesterday for this place of refuge ; but here I 
 am, well and happy, as I ever must be beside thee, 
 sv.-eet one." 
 
 " That Cormack, dearest William, what do I not 
 owe him !" 
 
 "Me!" said Wallace, smiling, " me thou ow- 
 est him ; and it was a mercy he was not hurt in
 
 223 
 
 that unlucky bruilzie, or we had both been lost ; — 
 he hath ever been more careful of me than him- 
 self." 
 
 " these scenes of strife and blood ! What a 
 fair world it would be if men would use the facul- 
 ties God hath given them, and enjoy T\dth the senses 
 he hath iu his wisdom bestowed, — look on this 
 fair sky, type of the serenity of mind that should 
 be the portion of man, but for the evil passions 
 that beset him." 
 
 " Truly dost thou speak, my Marion, and but 
 for his evil portion man would be little short of 
 angel, yet such is his nature; good and evil are in it 
 blended by Almighty wisdom, and we must suit 
 ourselves to it as best we may. Come ! we must 
 not be sad to-day !" 
 
 "Sad I am not. How could I be so, seeing 
 this is the first time I have been able to con- 
 verse with thee alone for months V replied she. 
 " Thou knowest I am not easily scared or de- 
 pressed, yet the future must be thought of, and 
 the prospect is not very cheering, even thou wilt 
 allow — my house desolate — the home of my child-
 
 224 
 
 liood a heap of ashes ; my parent and my gallant 
 brothers no more, and the wretched hand whicli 
 shed their blood, seeking to grasp mine in the same 
 reeking gauntlet ! — another villain, more powerful, 
 trying every art and wile to entrap me into his 
 power. William Wallace ! had I not some of thy 
 courage, I should sink under such accumulation of 
 misery." 
 
 As she uttered these words, her head, in spite of 
 considerable effort to keep herself up, fell on 
 his shoulder, and she gave way for an instant to 
 weeping; but suddenly recovering, she exclaimed, 
 " Such weakness is not for me, nor for the oc- 
 casion ! Thou shalt find me like the betrothed 
 bride of Wallace, and the confident of his high re- 
 solves." 
 
 " Even so I know thou shalt be ! Be of good 
 cheer, too, for I have news that will please thee ; 
 fear no more the villanous Jardine." 
 
 " What hath befallen him?" enquired she, 
 quickly. 
 
 " He hath been slain in one of his midnight 
 raids ; of this I have sure intelligence."
 
 225 
 
 " God forgive him, as I do," cried the damsel ; 
 " he hath heen a guilty man." 
 
 " But for this minion of the proud Lord !" cried 
 Wallace, his face darkening. " It is but too true 
 there is nothing too bad for him to undertake — no- 
 thing that he doth allow to stand between him and 
 any object he may desire ; and what to do with thee, 
 now, I do confess I know not. Thou seest my po- 
 sition. Hitherto this Governor hath been unable 
 to fix any great crime upon me, save the combat at 
 Dundee, which, after all, was not to be made much 
 of, seeing it was a fair fight, and consequently it 
 hath passed over. The broil at Riccarton Bridge, 
 also, and some others, were all too palpably pro- 
 voked by the Southron ; but this last affair, from 
 its magnitude, may readily be made to appear an 
 act of deliberate treason, so many of my friends 
 being engaged in it, as if from previous concert. 
 I believe — I expect that they will proclaim me 
 traitor, and off'er a reward for my head." 
 
 " Come here, then, William," said she, with a 
 
 sudden burst of natural feeling, " share with me 
 
 these beautiful and romantic wilds — the splendid 
 K 2
 
 226 
 
 trees, brilliant flowers, and sparkling waters, un- 
 polluted by the villains of the earth, unknown to the 
 iron heel of oppression." 
 
 *' And leave my poor fallen country, my wretched 
 countrymen, trodden into the dust by that iron heel, 
 vrliile I am spending my vigorous days in inglorious 
 ease. 0, Marion ! not even with thee will I en- 
 joy happiness, while thousands who are now 
 looking to me, humble and young as I am, for 
 support and devotion in the hour of trial, are left 
 to perish in the gripe of their enemies. What 
 is it that doth cause your flowers to bloom 
 so — your waters to glitter like gems 1 what but 
 the glorious liberty which reigns around ? Thou 
 hast thyself said it, even now ; and if by the exer- 
 tions of those brave men who are raised to a sense 
 of their degraded and wretched condition, this 
 liberty, instead of being confined to the wilderness, 
 spreads over the Avidth and breadth of the land — 
 ah ! what multitudes of beautiful flowers, now 
 trodden in the mire ! what myriads of limpid 
 streams, turbid now by the pollution of tyranny, 
 will shine and sparkle for the happiness of man-
 
 227 
 
 kind ! Think if liberty can thus beautify the wikls 
 of nature, what will it be in the crowded paths of 
 men, when the timid and crouching shall raise his 
 face to heaven, as he was born to carry it, and 
 speak to his brother man as he hath the right to 
 speak, and the thong and the torture are no more 
 heard of; then shall the face of nature be truly 
 gay, and the veriest weed of creation seem to reno- 
 vated man the fairest flower !" 
 
 " Yes," said she; " it is ever thus that thou 
 dost cheat me into thine own enthusiasm, when, 
 with sparkling eyes, and glowing face, and fervent 
 tongue, thou dost bring before mine eyes, in some 
 shape, the image of glorious liberty. Methinks, 
 after listening to thee, my female nature is cast 
 off, and I feel strong enough to battle at thy side 
 in the cause to which we are both devoted. Verily, 
 when I am alone, or with my relative only, in these 
 wilds, I am as quiet a woman as may be seen ; but 
 thy voice is like the war trumpet in mine ear, call- 
 ing to high deeds and stern determination." 
 
 " Thou sayest truly, my Marion ; thou art 
 
 formed alike fur high designs and for the quiet 
 
 k2
 
 228 
 
 pursuits of woman's life. Had our country been 
 as our last good King left it, free and happy, we' 
 might have passed peaceably down the stream : 
 fighting perhaps I might have been occasionally, on 
 some distant strand, the battle of our country ; 
 but now, with our most sacred rights invaded, we 
 must either submit quietly, and rear a race of 
 slaves for this Southron tyrant — " 
 
 " Never mention it !" cried she, impatiently ; 
 " Breathe it not, William Wallace ; thou knowest 
 I would sooner die !" 
 
 At these words she rose from her seat in the 
 heat of emotion — " Thou dost smile now, I see ; 
 thou art laughing at my too easily-excited nature ; 
 but if I try sometimes to hide my own ardent dis- 
 position, in order to temper thy burning one, thou 
 shouldst not deride me, William ; and if I am 
 easily roused by thee, do not forget that others 
 have not the same power over me." 
 
 This beautiful and youthful creature was indeed 
 precisely what she represented herself Born in an 
 age where women of her rank were more rudely 
 nurtured, and their education but little attended to.
 
 229 
 
 slie had enjoyed those advantages to an extent im- 
 comnion with the daughters of the gentry in her 
 native district ; and they had tlieir usual effect in 
 developing the hidden qualities of the mind. The 
 attachment which grew up between her and Wal- 
 lace, from an early age on her part, gave a hent 
 to them, gradually increasing, until she seemed to 
 he actuated by the same spirit on all occasions. 
 He intrusted her with his schemes and his lofty 
 aspirations for the liberation of his country ; and 
 she thought on them, until her excited imagination 
 not only pictured his hopes realized, but represent- 
 ed her glorious hero as the idol of a devoted coun- 
 try. Yet she was also by nature tender and feel- 
 ing, as well as daring, when called on to shew 
 courage, to an extraordinary degree, at a time 
 when that quality vras not so rare among women. 
 Her whole soul might be said to go with Wallace 
 wherever he went ; and her body would have been 
 there also, had it been possible to carry on his 
 secret and dangerous proceedings with safety to 
 hor, under any disguise, in his company. 
 
 They sat there, under a clear summer sky, the
 
 230 
 
 brook murmuring at their feet, on a carpet of green 
 sward flowered with daisies; in front of them a 
 deep dell, with almost perpendicular hills on each 
 side, the entrance to which was so hidden by trees, 
 that its existence could only be known by the tri- 
 butary stream which ran from it into the Afton 
 by which they sat; and, looking along it, one 
 could descry here and there a glimpse of some pro- 
 jecting crag, thrusting its grey head among the 
 lofty trees, as if to maintain its right to a place 
 there. 
 
 The Afton, at this spot a small stream, Avith 
 the same lofty hills on each side, turned off sharp- 
 ly at a little distance on their left ; and on the 
 right the same brook came down from the 
 southern moorland through a series of smaller 
 hills, almost denuded of trees, on which, barren and 
 rocky as they were, the eye rested witli pleasure, 
 after viewing in every other direction a wilderness 
 of primeval oaks, Scots firs, and other monarchs of 
 the wood. They were not far from the source of 
 the little river, and in the centre of a country as 
 wild and as remote from the settled habitations of
 
 231 
 
 men as it was possible to find in Ayrshire ; and 
 there was no cot nor hut in view which might be 
 conjectured to hold a human being at any time. 
 
 The couple sat there for a considerable space, 
 undisturbed by any sound save the rippling of the 
 brook, and the songs of birds, whilst he revealed all 
 his proceedings since they last met, and the plans 
 he had formed for the future. They were roused 
 at last by the sound of small bells ; and looking 
 up, they beheld a hawk hovering over them. 
 
 " That is his falcon ; he must be at hand," cried 
 she, rising. 
 
 The bird kept its position, high in the air ; and 
 AVallace took off his bonnet, and threw it up as a 
 lure, crying like a fiilconer the while ; it made a 
 stoop, but raked off just over them, turning its head 
 on one side to view them attentively. 
 
 " She fears you," said Marion ; and, standing 
 upright, she extended an arm, calling in her clear 
 silvery voice, " Ho ! Jessie," when the hawk imme- 
 diately stooped, hovered an instant within a yard 
 of them, then dropped and settled quietly on her 
 wrist.
 
 232 
 
 " She is his favourite," said she, caressing the 
 noble bird, which was smoothing its plumage with 
 a feeling of perfect security. " And where hast 
 thou ranged to-day, Jessie ? I fear me thou hast 
 misbehaved, for I see no one; thou hast missed 
 thy quarry, surely, my brave bird, and that is what 
 thou dost right rarely." 
 
 Soon afterwards, a man appeared approaching 
 from the open space on the right, accompanied by 
 a few wild-looking figures, his attendants in the 
 chase. Wallace rose to meet him ; he was dressed 
 nearly as we have once before met him, in his cha- 
 racter of Minstrel of the Glen ; but his followers 
 wore garments whose material seemed to be taken 
 chiefly from the skins of wild beasts, and they 
 were rude and unshorn in their aspect. 
 
 " How fares my gentle kinsman ? " enquired he; 
 " hath the night's rest refreshed thee as it ought ? " 
 
 "Eight well am I, kind father ; thanks to thy 
 care. What success in thy sport this morning "? " 
 
 *' But little. We are too many, I doubt me, 
 now ; but thou wilt not think so, Wallace ; the 
 deer grow scarce as men increase in number."
 
 233 
 
 AYallace, as a lover of the chase, did not fail to 
 caress the hounds, of various sorts, which were in 
 the train of these wild huntsmen, and much was 
 said about difterent kinds of hunting ; for on such 
 occasions the discourse generally takes that turn, 
 when the Minstrel abruptly left them and went on 
 before with his men and dogs. Wallace cast an 
 enquiring look at Marion. 
 
 *' He is well," she said, in reply to it ; "I know 
 by his look he is better than he was yester even ; 
 but beware how thou dost raise such a tumult in 
 his mind again. Alack ! my poor uncle ! full 
 often doth the truth come in my mind, William, 
 that no misfortune is without an end — at least, 
 without an attending benefit to some one ; without 
 me he would surely have been lost and forlorn in 
 these evil days." 
 
 The Minstrel walked across the brook in silence, 
 and, entering the dell on the other side, disap- 
 peared instantly among the thick underwood and 
 densely growing trees at its mouth. The rest fol- 
 lowed, keeping the very centre of the streamlet, 
 which was so shallow as to cause little inconve-
 
 234 
 
 iiience, in order that no trace might be left behind 
 of their footsteps. This was considered so essen- 
 tial by the outlaws, for so they were, that a man 
 was appointed specially to inspect and obliterate 
 all marks of any description which would lead 
 strangers to suspect a human habitation to be near ; 
 and this duty was discharged by him every morn- 
 ing, after any of them had departed, and continued 
 throughout the day, as might be necessary. The 
 path, if it might be so called, went for about a hun- 
 dred paces (while there was still some soil on the 
 banks to support the growth of trees) through a 
 thick brushwood of hazel, willow, and birch, the 
 boughs of which intermingled across the little 
 brook, and obstructed the traveller so much, that 
 he was obliged to use his hands to clear a passage. 
 After proceeding as far as this underwood reached, 
 the channel became narrower, and consisted entirely 
 of solid rock, about a foot of this, on one side, 
 being considerably raised above the level of the 
 rest, so that it was dry, except when the burn 
 was in flood. The cliffs here rose perpendicularly 
 to the height of fifty feet on each side, exhibiting
 
 235 
 
 nothing to the traveller but a wall- like aspect of 
 uncommon altitude, which, the channel being so nar- 
 row, almost entirely excluded the light of day. Pro- 
 ceeding onwards through this pass for about twenty 
 paces more, an opening appeared on the left, 
 affording passage to a tiny streamlet which ran 
 into the other and larger one, — rude and rough 
 fragments of rock, evidently scattered by nature, 
 yet fit for the footing of man, here formed a path 
 up this narrow chasm for a few feet, until, proceed- 
 ing upwards, the passenger found himself on a 
 winding path, almost like a turnpike stair, which 
 took him to the summit of the cliff. 
 
 The Minstrel and the rest of the party then pro- 
 ceeded along a very indistinct footpath, like a hare 
 track, winding through the wood for a short dis- 
 tance, when all at once they came upon a long low 
 range of turf cottages covered with ivy (which gi^ew 
 luxuriantly round about on the rocks and decay- 
 ing trees), and so concealed and shaded by the deep 
 green firs, that, until almost touching them, a 
 stranger would not perceive what they were, so 
 like was their appearance to a ridge of ivy-covered
 
 236 
 
 rocky ground. Farther ou, a conical hill, which 
 raised its peaky summit above the tops of the trees 
 that grew near its base, presented itself. Like the 
 rest of the mountains, its upper half had no ver- 
 dure ; its base, however, was green with the same 
 mantle of woodbine. The party entered wdthin 
 (it seemed) the interior of this rocky eminence, 
 but presently the stranger would discover that they 
 were in a rustic bower, similar in construction to 
 the rest but larger, and having several apartments, 
 the whole curiously built of wood like the others, 
 and fitted to the rock so as to resemble, by means 
 of the ivy, a part of it. The doors of all these 
 strange edifices were covered by the same green 
 mantling, and light was admitted through nume- 
 rous apertures in the structure, screened from ob- 
 servation by the same means. 
 
 Near this spot, a crystal fountain bubbled from 
 the ground, and meandered down to the Afton, 
 which it entered near the place called Amrigh, 
 which was distant only a couple of hundred paces. 
 East of this was a considerable space, which the 
 outlaws had cleared of wood with great labour, and
 
 237 
 
 converted into a beautiful green, it being a sort 
 of level platform, surrounded by the same wild 
 scenery of hills, with a rocky base and summit, 
 and thickly wooded sides. The outlaws had so 
 chosen and fashioned the locality that no enemy 
 could come upon them unobserved, because there 
 were points for sentinels which commanded views 
 of every quarter by which they could be approach- 
 ed ; and they had hitherto escaped, sometimes nar- 
 rowly, by keeping within their houses and restrain- 
 ing their well-trained dogs from emitting any sound 
 whatever, while strangers were in the neighbour- 
 hood, which could only be when parties were de- 
 tached in search of runaway serfs, or, latterly, of 
 tliemselves ; for they were aware that the Governor 
 must, by some means or other, have discovered the 
 existence of men in a quarter considered pre- 
 viously to be uninhabited. And, although hunters 
 sometimes approached within a mile or two of the 
 locality, they never cared to enter into fastnesses 
 that appeared to them almost impenetrable. 
 
 Such was the wild retreat chosen by the last of 
 an ancient race of Celtic Chiefs, whose misfortunes
 
 238 
 
 had been partly related by Lord Piercy to his con- 
 fidant. His father had a dispute which ended in 
 an open rupture with the Norman family of Col- 
 ville, lately become lords of the adjoining barony 
 of Ochiltree. Mutual depredations took place as 
 usual ; and Cumnock, being better supported by 
 his followers on one occasion, fairly routed Ochil- 
 tree on his own ground, taking some prisoners and 
 a drove of cattle, after the fashion of the times. 
 The defeated party, having more influence in high 
 quarters than the other, related the matter in 
 his own way to the representative of the powerful 
 Stewarts, Lords of Kyle, who amply avenged him, 
 as has been told. But the wise king, Alexander, 
 instead of granting the forfeited lands to the com- 
 plainant, introduced one into the quarter who 
 would be likely to keep down all the turbulent 
 chiefs of the neighbourhood, which was rather re- 
 markable for its feuds ; and thus Cospatrick be- 
 came Lord of Cumnock. The hatred of the Mac- 
 Ries, which had always been great, increased to 
 an intense degree against the strangers, Avho were 
 thus thrusting forth the last of the old inhabitants
 
 239 
 
 of the district from their hereditary possessions. 
 But they were powerless ; for their followers of the 
 inferior class being considered as serfs, were con- 
 signed along with the land to the new lord — a 
 measure which aggravated the fury of their chief 
 to such a pitch, that he mustered what power he 
 could, which was but small, and fell in a desperate 
 attack on Ochiltree Castle. 
 
 His son, the last of the family, removed to 
 Elderslie, Sir Malcolm being his father's cousin- 
 german ; and as he was a mere youth, he was 
 placed in the Abbey of Kilwinning, in order that 
 he might be trained for the church, provided he 
 could be reconciled to that mode of life, which he 
 (Malcolm) doubted : but as some odium rested on 
 the name, from the displeasure of the king, the good 
 knight deemed it the best thing for him. The 
 young man, to the surprise of the monks, took to 
 his learning with assiduity, and advanced rapidly 
 in the acquisition of knowledge. But, after a 
 couple of years, instead of taking to a monastic 
 life, he began to complain of the irksomeness of 
 that way of living, and was frequently at Elderslie,
 
 240 
 
 where at last he settled, under the designation of 
 Father Angus, distinguished for his eccentricity 
 and his learning. Sir Malcolm perceived that at 
 times his brain was unsettled ; and, in some broils 
 that had occurred, in which he took arms along 
 with the rest of the family, it was observed that, 
 in the heat of the melee, he was just as ready to 
 offer his weapon against a Saxon follower of Sir 
 Malcolm, as one of the enemy. 
 
 Under such circumstances his warlike propensi- 
 ties were discouraged, and he became indifferent to 
 all things, apparently, but what books he could get 
 possession of, till the children of his kinsman were 
 ready for tuition, when he undertook the task of 
 teaching them. He became much attached to his 
 pupils, William especially, and he took great pains 
 to instil into him his own opinions regarding the 
 progress of events, consequent on the death of the 
 King, and the artful intervention of the English 
 Sovereign in the affairs of the country, diverging 
 from this, to the calamities brought upon Scot- 
 land, since the days of Canmore, by the en- 
 trance of Southrons, and then would he curse
 
 241 
 
 tlie Diemory of King David in tlie bitterness of his 
 heart. 
 
 In fact, he had before sorely outraged the feel- 
 ings of the monks, by launching an anathema at 
 this their favourite saint, while at Kilwinning, 
 
 " Saint !" cried the furious youth — " a saint ! 
 because he spoiled others to enrich the church, 
 and because, in doing so, he brought in Southron 
 strangers to occupy the land of better men — Fie 
 on such sanctity ! The lands granted by him were 
 not his own ; and the priests, forsooth, must have 
 Saxons (to till their ground) in place of the free 
 foresters who were already there, and who would 
 not bend their necks to the work of slaves." 
 
 It was thus the seeds were sown which took deep 
 root in Wallace's mind, and gi'ew under the foster- 
 ing effect of personal observation. The peculiarity in 
 Angus' habits and disposition became more evident 
 as he advanced in years ; and, at last, he wandered 
 away, sometimes no one knew where, for weeks 
 together, and finally disappeared entirely from 
 Elderslie. He had been drawn by instinctive feel- 
 ing to the place of his birtb, had made himself
 
 242 
 
 known to the few followers of his family who re- 
 mained, the rest having either sought the Highlands 
 or the kindred population of Galloway; — and, 
 having taken upon himself the character of a wan- 
 dering harper, was understood by the Saxon follow- 
 ers of Dunbar to have all the permanent residence 
 he possessed in one of the cottages that stood in 
 the gorge of Afton glen, where he had been known 
 to remain for a couple of days at a time. But he 
 had gathered the remnant of his people in tlie hills, 
 and sought that independence there which the so- 
 ciety of mankind denied him and them. Wallace 
 discovered this in the prosecution of his own 
 schemes, and they soon entered into a perfect un- 
 derstanding regarding the ulterior proceedings of 
 both. 
 
 But he had discovered also, that the excitement 
 arising out of Angus's deep interest in the subject, 
 was increased to an aliirming degree, when they 
 discussed the operations he was engaged in, and he 
 almost feared, if it was possible for him, to enter on 
 it with him. His mental malady was of that de- 
 scription now known as monomania ; and apart
 
 243 
 
 from it, this wild man of the hills might be reckon- 
 ed an accomplished individual, and one well ac- 
 quainted with the courtesies of life, as then recog- 
 nised and practised. It was necessary, however, 
 at this important crisis in his affairs, that Wallace 
 should hold a long, free, and confidential conver- 
 sation with him ; and they were engaged in it within 
 a short space after entering the bower. Wallace 
 narrated to him particularly what had occurred in 
 Ayr, which he had not been able to do on the day 
 before, and then proceeded — 
 
 " The time, you see, has arrived, my honoured 
 master (so he often called him) when I must be 
 ever under the gi'een-wood tree, until Scotland is 
 freed from thraldom, or my poor carcase beneath 
 the sod ; hear then distinctly and fully what, in my 
 poor mind, should be done. Thou knowest that 
 in many places I have assurances of support, — 
 far distant from this. In our own sheriffdom my 
 secret supporters comprehend every name of note. 
 There is not a Scot here who burns not to es- 
 cape from the iron grasp of Edward ; unhappily 
 there are few, also, who are willing to stake land and
 
 244 
 
 lordship for the prize of freedom, against the might 
 of the usurper; but if a bold stroke could be 
 struck, — if it could be shewn to them that there are 
 stout hearts ready to embark every thing in the 
 cause ; — if, in short, the stone is set a rolling in 
 the midst of people, goaded as they are by op- 
 pression, and anxious to escape from it, I am sure 
 that it will increase in force and impetus, until it 
 makes an impression, and until eyery man, from 
 the southron border to far Caithness, puts his hand 
 to it. The Scottish people are now like the noble 
 steed, mastered and borne down in spirit and body 
 by a load too heavy for nature to support. Let 
 them see and feel, like the steed, when his burthen 
 is partly cast off, that they may be free, and they 
 will kindle in spirit, and increase in strength till 
 they are so." 
 
 Angus sat with his head on his breast, as if he 
 wished the expression of his countenance to escape 
 observation. 
 
 " Go on," said he. 
 
 " I have," continued Wallace, '* communed with 
 good Auchinleck, our kinsman, and others equally
 
 245 
 
 trusty ; and they think this counsel which I pro- 
 pounded to them, though bold and riskful to me, 
 such as the times justify, and such as must be 
 adopted, sooner or later, ere any good may be 
 effected. I propose, that as many as we can make 
 be collected for an open attempt on those wains of 
 supplies, which are passing frequently from Ayr 
 to Lanark well guarded. A defeat and a seizure 
 of a party like this would kindle hope in the breasts 
 of all. And my bright sword to a maiden's needle, 
 would increase my strength at once!" 
 
 " It will do ! it will do !" shouted Angus, start- 
 ing up and grasping his head firmly and wildly with 
 his hands. 
 
 Wallace gazed anxiously on him without speak- 
 ing. He paced the apartment, where they were 
 quite alone, for a few seconds, and by a violent 
 effort seemed to master his feelings. 
 
 " William ! my boy ! my own son ! thou little 
 knowest how vehemently I have prayed for a mo- 
 ment like this ; but, fear me not, I can master my- 
 self on occasion of such mighty import."
 
 24a 
 
 He spoke with deep emotion, and as if his words 
 came with difficulty. 
 
 " I have refrained from urging any such step 
 for thy sake ; and lest my impetuosity, and that 
 infirmity of which I am fully aware, should hurry 
 thee, and another as dear to me, into perdition ; 
 hut since men held wary and sage deem it to be 
 wise, I must hail it as the first dawn of freedom in 
 my unhappy land." 
 
 Saying this, he sat down, and tears flowed free- 
 ly over his cheeks, as he made a sign to Wallace 
 to proceed. 
 
 " It is nearly all said, saving that many good 
 friends among the barons of Kyle have promised 
 to sui)ply, still secretly, such men as they can, 
 without risk to themselves, and under disguised arms 
 and pennons. My trusty Connack is even now on 
 the scout for information ; on his return we shall 
 learn what chance there be of speedy and open 
 melee with these tyrants. Send it soon, kind 
 heaven 1" 
 
 " Amen !" shouted, rather than said, the over- 
 mastered Angus, who again rose and paced the
 
 247 
 
 apartment, while Wallace proceeded to pour out his 
 information from different quarters, and his re- 
 ijiarks on it ; and, after a considerable space had 
 elapsed, the former resumed his seat composedly, 
 but bearing on his features the marks of deep 
 thought and powerfully excited feelings. 
 
 " Thou hast said that Piercy hath become aware 
 of thy practices ; is it lately thou hast made the 
 discovery r' 
 
 " I had been told some time ago — but I could 
 never ascertain the fact, for the parties were re- 
 moved voluntarily or otherwise from their abodes, 
 — that his spies had tampered with some whom I 
 trusted, and that by means of the thumbscrew, and 
 even of the rack, he had enforced a confession ; 
 but it was little they could confess, enough only to 
 justify, according to Southron opinion, severity to- 
 ward them — nothing against me ; but very lately, 
 a yeoman, who had given offence to the Seneschal's 
 officer, and had been seen in conference with me, 
 was visited by a party and carried before the Se- 
 neschal himself, who put him in a dungeon, under 
 threat of torture if he did not reveal all that had
 
 248 
 
 passed between us, which indeed was little, only a 
 brief conversation on a market-day, when I took 
 occasion to hint at the intolerable wrongs we all e^.- 
 dured from these Southrons, and the remedy ; and 
 he, being a stout churl, denied in bold and straight- 
 forward fashion, that there was any thing else than 
 a little grumbling ; so, after trying the tliumbikins, 
 they let him go, with a caution against any more 
 dealings with me ; but, smarting in the thumbs, and 
 nowise intimidated, he found me out very soon, and 
 gave me friendly counsel regarding the people I 
 spoke to, assuring me, from good evidence, that 
 others had been brought to confess much more! " 
 
 "I need scarcely tell thee, William, that this 
 Piercy is a man of no common stamp ; thou hast 
 heard me say so before. He hath in him a strange 
 mixture of good and evil, of blind confidence and 
 unjust suspicion, of harsh disregard of human suf- 
 fering and of chivalrous devotion to the interests of 
 humanity, according as they appear to him in dif- 
 ferent forms ; of great talents and knowledge of 
 men all allow he is, besides a soldier of renown, 
 and a leader who ranks with the foremost of his
 
 249 
 
 land. Such is he with whom thou, a youth of no 
 rank, art about to enter the lists in a contest for 
 liberty." 
 
 *' It is with the tyrant, in very deed, that we are 
 to engage," replied Wallace, while his cheek re- 
 flected the angry flush that dwelt on the other's. 
 " The men of England, like those of Scotland, are 
 chained to the triumphant genius of their land- 
 monopolizing King ! — If Piercy served a prince of 
 more chivalrous disposition, and less driven by the 
 vile thirst of gain, for no nobler purpose than that 
 of increasing the width of his dominion, a prince 
 who could look on men humbler than himself as men, 
 and not as machines to obey the impulse he gives 
 them, and to be crushed if they do not, Piercy would 
 be a nobler man." 
 
 " Thou speakest truth, my son," replied Angus, 
 
 becoming more calm as the conversation diverged 
 
 from the immediately exciting subject, " and in 
 
 this is shewn the omnipotent power of mind, which 
 
 breaks and bends to its will those whose mental 
 
 powers are of a feebler order, even as the stronger 
 
 wolf can crush the feebler fox ; even as one body 
 
 l2
 
 250 
 
 has mastery oyer another, so hath one mind over 
 another." 
 
 " Yes, father, that is not to be doubted," said 
 Wallace, " yet it doth seem to me that this Ed- 
 ward of England, great as he is in mind, is still 
 more indebted to the opposite quality, in an ances- 
 tor who brought forward to aid his crown the 
 bodily strength of thousands who might otherwise 
 have been opposed to him. Thou has taught me 
 history so well, that I were dull indeed not to draw 
 the proper moral from it. When the English barons 
 enfranchised the majority of their villeins, to array 
 them against the power of John, that they might 
 wring from him the Grand Charter of their liberties, 
 they called into existence a physical power which 
 the great mind of Edward hath swayed, to the ex- 
 tension of his own influence and the consequent 
 coercion of his barons, into whatever views he may 
 entertain, whether of conquest abroad or despotic 
 rule at home." 
 
 " Thus a wise Providence doth work out its own 
 purposes, and we, blind mortals, can only marvel 
 while the great act is in progress, and admire when
 
 251 
 
 it is accomplished. Even in the present prostra^ 
 tion of Scotland may lurk the germ of future pro- 
 sperity, and liberty spring brighter and more beau- 
 tiful than e'er she shone before, even in the days ol 
 her ancient glory, from her misery and degrada- 
 tion ; but that will be, if it ever is, for the mingled 
 blood of Saxon and Briton, for the name and the 
 renown of the latter hath departed for ever ; and 
 accursed be the cause — the bastard and his rob- 
 ber-band, and the feeble hands of the Saxons, who 
 could not defend the land they had reft by their 
 numbers from a nobler people ! Accursed be Nor- 
 man and Saxon alike ! And that Celtic King who 
 first took to his arms a Saxon wife, and began the 
 invasion of our fair land by these greedy strangers, 
 accursed be also his memory !" 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! my father," said Wallace, 
 soothingly ; " remember that we both share the 
 blood of the stranger. Through my veins circu- 
 lates the crimson tide derived from three Saxon 
 ancestresses, and from one of those is drawn part 
 of thine own ; if not for the sake of that — if not 
 for my sake — yet, in consideration of the British
 
 252 
 
 race that exists commingled with the Saxon, be thon 
 like me, and turn thy rage on the false and cruel 
 southron King and his bloody, devoted tools. It 
 is not the first time we have talked in this manner ; 
 it is not for the first time that I, of thine own 
 dearly loved race, have implored thee to spare, in 
 thy speech and thy deeds, the remnant of it which 
 exists over the breadth of the land, as in me, 
 mixed with that of the stranger. And look round 
 thee, father ; in Galloway, in the isles and the far 
 north, still exist many thousands who, with thee, 
 reverence the memory of their British forefathers 
 — wouldst thou curse and crush them also V^ 
 
 "I know that I am wild and visionary, and that 
 vain imaginings will agitate me," said Angus sad- 
 ly. " I know also that the ancient people of the 
 land are lost for ever as a people ; yet one who 
 hath suj0fered from the change, the last of a lordly 
 line among them, may be pardoned for speaking 
 bitterly of their oppressors; thou shouldst bear 
 with me, William Wallace.'* 
 
 In fact, he felt the power of one mind over an- 
 other to be exemplified in himself; he felt that
 
 253 
 
 Wallace could control him in his wildest moods, 
 simply by making his tone and his look more im- 
 pressive, and he on this occasion had done so, feel- 
 ing the necessity for keeping him in check during 
 the important conference ; and the other, like one 
 yielding to greater force against his will, submit- 
 ted with a sort of grumbling. The power of a 
 stronger over a weaker intelligence was thus strik- 
 ingly made manifest ; yet, as may be seen from the 
 anxiety with which Wallace sought this discussion 
 with him, that he looked on the excitable solitary 
 as one whose opinions were of great consequence ; 
 and, in fact, he had been heard often to declare 
 that, in his cool and rational moments, Father 
 Angus was the wisest and most intelligent of all 
 his counsellors. 
 
 " Who can tell," continued Wallace, " what the 
 inscrutable will of the Almighty may be 1 Light 
 and shadow alternate in this world — a nation is in 
 slavery to-day, and made free by one glorious bat- 
 tlefield on the morrow. In the princely nobles of 
 our land the mingled current runs of which I spoke; 
 and the day may yet come when a king of Scot-
 
 254 
 
 laud's royal race maternally sprung, may sway her 
 destinies, and Imrl defiance in the teeth of our 
 southern foes !" 
 
 " It may, William Wallace ; but that blood doth 
 only gild as yet the pomp of our tyrant. The 
 Bruce, the Comyn, like the puppet Baliol, swell the 
 train of his willing worshippers. No ! thou hast 
 reasoned justly when thou didst begin with the mul- 
 titude ; carry it with thee like a strong torrent, and 
 these great ones must go along with, or be over- 
 whelmed in it." 
 
 " Yea," said Wallace, pleased to see that this 
 idea had taken hold of Angus ; " but what else 
 could the noble Carrick do 1 Guarded and watched 
 by Edward's jealous vigilance, knowing, by what 
 hath already chanced, that his lordships in both 
 countries would be seized, to grant to others less 
 scrupulous, in order that Edward's power might be 
 increased to do evil here ! The vassals of Bruce 
 and Comyn are likely to be less inimical to Scot- 
 land than if they were under the rule of a noble, 
 who is filled with prejudice, it may be, against us, 
 and who hath all to gain and nought to lose by
 
 255 
 
 obeying the orders of his sovereigu. They bide 
 their time ; and when they see the lowest of their 
 countrymen scattering the Southron, and effecting, 
 by their own unaided strength and valour, the li- 
 befation of their country, then will they see their 
 time is come." 
 
 " I doubt me," said Angus, shaking his head ; 
 " if they weigh the matter thus nicely. I doubt if 
 they consider that their own lands and vassals, con- 
 veyed to others, would be more hurtful to the coun- 
 try, so much as that it would prejudice themselves 
 if the cause were ruined. However that be, there 
 is truth and reason in what thou sayest ; to peril 
 the wealth and the blood of Scotland, on one rash 
 and hasty rising, would be injudicious. Our de- 
 liverance must be wrought gradually at first, and 
 the risk incurred only by those who have life and 
 no more to lose ; their success will be warrandice 
 to hazard the lands and the wealth of all classes 
 in the attempt. But this manner of working out 
 our freedom would be hopeless without one like 
 thee, possessing all the fire, and more than the 
 energy of youth, and far more than the wisdom of
 
 256 
 
 mature years, as these qualities are found in ordi- 
 nary men. How often have I hlessed God for thee, 
 my son ! and grateful have I been that, amidst all 
 my woes, this boon was vouchsafed, and the train- 
 ing of thy master-mind intrusted to me." 
 
 " cease, good master ! thy love for me doth 
 lead thee into error." 
 
 " Nay, William Wallace, the time hath passed 
 when praise can injure thee ; thy mind is a rock on 
 which the fate of nations may safely rest ; and the 
 rock contains a mine, a storehouse of high precepts 
 and matured thought, wonderful in one so young. 
 It is borne in upon me, my son, that thou art raised 
 up by Divine Providence for the regeneration of 
 this wretched land." 
 
 " And men say," replied Wallace, with a smile, 
 "that this notion hath taken too deep a hold on 
 thine own mind, my master." 
 
 '' Who can say so, — who can know it?" asked he 
 hastily, " even our own kindred — who else 1 None 
 in these parts, but thine own people, and not all of 
 them, know who thou art." 
 
 *' I believe they do not ; none can guess that in
 
 257 
 
 the poor wandering Harper they saw the gay youth 
 who, in happier times, was foremost in the game, the 
 chase, or the hattle-field ; but, alas ! few indeed 
 remain who saw me in those halcyon days. And 
 they say, doubtless, that the crazed brain of Father 
 Angus hath tainted thine with his wild imaginings. 
 It is little they can tell that will more me ; but 
 if 1 have been the humble instrument of turning 
 thy mind to this high and holy purpose, I shall 
 glory in the ruin of my family, because it hath been 
 the salvation of my country." 
 
 " Pure and high thy thoughts have always been, 
 my father ; and, save a little passing irritation 
 against these strange settlers, no man hath heard 
 aught from thee, or seen aught in thee, that did not 
 breathe the most devoted, the purest patriotism, 
 — patriotism untarnished by a single thought of 
 thyself. Thou art even too high and noble for 
 this world of selfish strife, my father. If thou 
 didst see less of the latter among these strangers, 
 thou wouldst soon cleave to them also ; but they 
 vex, harass, and annoy thee, as much by their 
 want of thy lofty principles, as by their possession
 
 258 
 
 of the country. Thou seest I know thee well, 
 good father ! " 
 
 Angus mused a little at this uncommon strain of 
 his old pupil's discourse, and then said — 
 
 " No, Wallace, it is not so ; I would peril aught 
 that remains to me of my former self; I might 
 even, as I said, think the ruin of my race fortunate 
 to rescue this land from thraldom ; but it is be- 
 cause a remnant remains of the Scottish nation, 
 which the proud Roman respected, that I would 
 do so ; because in rescuing it, mingled as it is in 
 blood and lineage, with the invaders, scaith and 
 scorn would be the portion of the latter who have 
 no lasting footing among us." 
 
 "Even so, — do I not say so? — thou wouldst 
 save the Scottish nation as it hath been since the 
 days of Malcolm, and thou wouldst have destruc- 
 tion on the followers of our Usurper '?" 
 
 Angus again mused, but briefly, and spoke 
 abruptly. 
 
 " This is idle prating, William ; — let us have no 
 more of it ; but believe this, that thou knowest not 
 yet my real feelings."
 
 259 
 
 " Dost thou know tlieiii, good father I — didst 
 thou know them when the Saxon woman lost her 
 child in the river, and, although thou dost detest 
 her race, thou didst plunge in, risking thy own life, 
 to save that of an enemy's child ^" 
 
 " Pshaw ! who seeing such accident would pause 
 to ask what race the infant was oil — that is 
 nothing — no argument." 
 
 " Ay ! hut is, is my father, a strong one in my 
 favour, — were the Saxons pure as this infant, as 
 unstained by vice as it and thou art, thou wouldst 
 not destroy them. What then remains but this, that 
 not the people, but their evil practices — not the 
 blood they own, but the vices that beset them, are 
 the cause of thy mortal hatred V 
 
 " Thou art foolish, boy," cried he, in an excited 
 tone ; " plague me no more in this fashion." 
 
 AYallace saw there was danger of the fit return- 
 ing, and quietly turned to another subject. 
 
 " I told thee of this new favourite of The Piercy — 
 this Heselrig, T think. Men say he hath great 
 power over his Lord, which he doth abuse for his 
 own behests, that are of the worst description."
 
 260 
 
 " Tliou didst say so before ; — any new crime 
 hath he committed V 
 
 " His life," said Wallace, a frown gathering on 
 his face, " doth seem a series of crimes. Lust is 
 the demon that rules him ; marvellous it is that 
 one so wise as Piercy, so vigilant and watchful, 
 cannot perceive the evil effect of his follower's con- 
 duct on his government." 
 
 " Subtle and cunning, blind obedience to his will, 
 and a little flattery to overweening pride, will go far 
 to make Piercy blind to faults in a sagacious and 
 bold retainer, in whose judgment he hath confi- 
 dence." 
 
 " Thou hast studied deeply the character of this 
 Governor." 
 
 '* Truly have I, my son. Much in the coming 
 struggle will depend on the Governor of the West ; 
 and it hath been my task to acquire every infor- 
 mation regarding him. The result is such as I 
 have told thee, and which may be thus summed up : 
 Piercy, to his fellows, is a high and chivalrous 
 noble ; to those under his governance, just what 
 the Usurper shall dictate."
 
 261 
 
 " Just so ; loyalty to his liege is one devoir of a 
 foreign son of chivalry — disregard of the ignoble 
 doth seem to be another ; for, in this fanciful code 
 of honour, which doth addle the brains of all 
 ■who are so descended, I cannot discover that the 
 other classes are to be at all considered. Ple- 
 beians are as nothing in the eyes of your preux 
 chevalier — fit only to run beside the horse of their 
 lord in battle, and cover him with their shields, 
 while they are naked and he cased in iron." 
 
 " Ay ; and if the poor slave faileth in this, his 
 own life is the forfeit. Desertion of the lord in 
 danger is, with these Normans, a capital crime, 
 although it might be to avoid inevitable death." 
 
 " The proud Piercy doth think few his equal. 
 Heselrig, his vassal, doth sneer at him in private, 
 but is in continual fear of him. Nothing but this 
 dread of his superior prevents him from breaking 
 out into every excess openly; his ingenuity in 
 blinding his Lord is truly wonderful ; for, notwith- 
 standing what thou sayest, Piercy hath many in- 
 struments at work. Sometimes I think that it is 
 hardly possible for him to be ignorant of any
 
 262 
 
 tiling tliat may occur; but then the skill of the 
 other, in gaining over spies to his own interest, is 
 equal to his craft and deep devices ; and thus a 
 game is continually going on between them — of 
 masterly attempts at gaining secret intelligence, 
 -and ingenious plans to foil them." 
 
 Here Cormack entered, as if in haste, and just 
 from a journey. 
 
 " In good time ; here is my trusty Cormack," 
 cried Wallace. " What newsT' 
 
 " Thou art proclaimed traitor to Edward, as if 
 that were possible," said Cormack, indignantly, 
 " and a price put on thy head !" 
 
 " Well ! I expected so much. What else V 
 
 " The next piece of news will suit better the 
 mood thou art in now, I perceive ; and I can guess 
 why thou art desirous of gaining such intelligence, 
 since thou art prepared for outlawry. Six days 
 hence a rich convoy of provisions, just landed at 
 Ayr, will proceed to Lanark, under the charge of 
 one whose name I dislike to mention — Fenwick." 
 
 " Fenwick ! Fenwick ! gracious heaven ! I thank 
 thee ! The murderer of my father ! Liberty and
 
 263 
 
 vengeance are both in the very sound of thy intel- 
 ligence. Speak yet again, trusty Cormack. AVhat 
 force shall he have, this miscreant?" 
 
 " A strong one, my master, for the charge is 
 valuable. It was said at the Castle, fifty men at 
 arms, and four hundred yeomen, halberdiers, and 
 archers." 
 
 " They shall be met ! they shall be met ! and 
 by freemen fighting for their homes, their wives, 
 their children, redeemed from slavery ! Shall Fen- 
 wick stand against us 1 Not for a moment." 
 
 The whole quiet demeanour of Wallace was 
 changed by this news, and his frame assumed that 
 animated and vigorous aspect, which made the very 
 souls of his enemies quail before him in battle. 
 
 " Hear'st thou, my father ! heard' st thou the 
 glorious truth ? The bird thou did'st speak of, 
 that phcBuix, hath already opened her wings, and 
 a few days more will see her in full flight, before 
 the admiring gaze of all Scotland." 
 
 " May the God of Armies render the day auspi- 
 cious !" exclaimed Angus, solemnly. " It is an 
 awful, an eventful time, my son."
 
 264 
 
 " It is so, my father, but we have anticpated it ; 
 we have expected to hear of the day when the first 
 blow shall be struck for freedom, openly and in the 
 face of the glorious sun. And, having learnt it, 
 I am on fire till it arrives." 
 
 " But thou must be calmer, my son ; this excite- 
 ment is not like thyself." 
 
 " True ; but consider all the purport and nature 
 of Cormack's tidings, and wonder not ! I am ready, 
 however, calm in a moment, to discuss with thee 
 the measures to be adopted ; the men \ " 
 
 " We have only about fifty here ; thou knowest 
 it was impossible to keep more in one quarter ; 
 between this and Loch Doon on one side, and 
 Carntable on the other, we shall muster three 
 hundred men of the greenwood, living on the forest 
 deer." 
 
 " They are hardy men, but badly armed ; thy 
 own following of fifty, thou must keep, for thyself 
 and Marion will need such protection ; the rest we 
 shall 'get, and a choice band armed and ready from 
 our friendly barons. This night I must see Ee- 
 ginald Crawford."
 
 2G5 
 
 " Thou hast not yet taken him into thy coun- 
 sels 1" 
 
 " No, I judged it best to say nothing to him, for 
 many reasons, still. Cormack, refresh thyself, my 
 friend ; thou dost want rest also ; I shall not keep 
 thee now." 
 
 Cormack was met, as he retired from the door 
 of the apartment, by Marion. 
 
 " Good Cormack," said she, " I would thank 
 thee for the great care thou hast taken of thy lord. 
 Indeed, I am grateful to Proyidence for sending a 
 faithful friend like thee. I am grateful also to a 
 kind maiden at Loudon, who tended thee and 
 saved thy life when thou wert wounded in Wal- 
 lace's quarrel. She is, I hear, truly a good and a 
 kind maiden ; and for her attention to thee, I 
 would give her some token of my esteem. Thou 
 seest here a paltry ornament, worth nothing save 
 as a mark of regard ; take it, my friend, and when 
 in thy wanderings thou dost again meet with Alice 
 of Hiltown, give it to her from me." 
 
 Cormack felt the full force of her delicate man- 
 ner of acknowledging his services to Wallace, 
 M
 
 266 
 
 and avowing her interest in Alice at tlie same 
 time. 
 
 " My thanks, Lady," said he, " are ever due 
 both to my lord and you. jSTothing that my poor 
 life could purchase can equal his bountiful kind- 
 ness to me. The maiden of Hiltown shall receive 
 the gift of my lady ; and sure I am she will value 
 it more than aught which wealth can buy." 
 
 " Now haste thee to thy refreshment and rest," 
 said the Lady, seeing the embarrassment he was in ; 
 and they parted. There was so much of primitive 
 simplicity about Marion, that she never di^eamt of 
 concealing from their followers the relation in 
 which she stood to Wallace as his future bride. 
 
 Sundry of the wild adherents of Angus ga- 
 thered with much familiarity around Cormack. 
 They were all clothed in a costume resembling 
 that of their ancestors in remote times, the prin- 
 cipal part of their dress being a tunic of skin 
 tanned with the hair on — the latter outside, 
 and fastened by a belt of the same material; 
 under it they had loose breeches reaching to the 
 knee, and open there, the legs being bare. On
 
 267 
 
 their feet they had brogues of leather thus rudely 
 tanned, and with the hair also on the outside. The 
 breeches were in some cases also of the skins of 
 animals, and in others they were of coarse woollen 
 piaiding. This rude apparel was partly the choice 
 of their Chief, and partly the result of necessity. 
 They were anxious to learn as much of Cormack's 
 intelligence as he could prudently communicate ; for 
 they seemed to be fully aware of the important and 
 highly perilous nature of his occupation. On this 
 occasion he had taken a very bold step, but af- 
 ter mature consideration, and his success shewed 
 the clearness of his perception and the dauntless 
 coolness of his nature. Judging from what he had 
 gathered on other journies to Ayr, that he would 
 prove a source of amusement to the garrison, if he 
 appeared in the Castle under the same garb and 
 aspect which astonished Watt and his men on Ric- 
 carton bridge, he let his hair fall over his eyes, 
 after having donned his serf's clothing, and the 
 simple wandering look conforming to both, and 
 thus presented himself as an ignorant and wild 
 rustic, gazing to satisfy his curiosity. It was not
 
 268 
 
 long ere lie was surrounded by a number of the 
 Southrons ; and as he acted his part to admiration, 
 even Watt of Badley forgot his resentment, and 
 claimed the merit of first discovering the salvage- 
 man, who served better than even a wandering 
 Harper to amuse them. 
 
 After they got a little accustomed to him. he 
 was less annoyed by their jokes ; and being re- 
 garded as a poor silly creature, was allowed to go 
 every where about the Castle, and to listen to any 
 conversation that was carried on there. Thus, with 
 eyes and ears open to every thing, and by the help 
 of an answer to a question put in the most indif- 
 ferent and simple manner by him, when he found 
 it necessary, he made himself master of all that 
 was projected, and even of the private thoughts and 
 opinions of the leading men in Piercy's household. 
 The greatest hardship he suffered, while on this 
 duty, was the abuse which he frequently heard la- 
 vished on Wallace, whose prowess in the late skir- 
 mish in the town had, coupled with the reports 
 previously circulated regarding him, made a deep 
 impression on all ; and some of them even suggest-
 
 269 
 
 ed to Cormack that he should endeavour to appre- 
 hend him, or assist them to do so, the reward being 
 high; and he could only shake his head in re- 
 ply, as if afraid. 
 
 Angus and Wallace were long engaged in ar- 
 ranging the proceedings in which they were both 
 to be involved, against the party under Fenwick, 
 and which was, in fact, to be the first open declara- 
 tion of their sentiments against the English usur- 
 pation, for which Wallace had been some time 
 preparing. Angus was desirous of joining himself 
 to Wallace in the undertaking, but the unprotected 
 state of Marion deterred him. " When thou hast 
 succeeded so far as to conquer some sufficient 
 strength, there shall we place her, and then shall I 
 take to the open field also against the Southron." 
 In fact, since the invasion of his territory by He- 
 selrig he had scarcely left the place, as he used to 
 do, in the character of Minstrel occasionally during 
 the day. 
 
 Wallace was by no means desirous of having 
 him along with him ; for although a redoubted 
 warrior, his unsettled and unstable mind rendered
 
 270 
 
 him wild and rash in the extreme, during the heat 
 of battle ; and he feared that, in the dangerous game 
 he was about to play, such an auxiliary might soon 
 fall a victim to the enemy. He was rejoiced, 
 therefore, when a hint he threw out about Marion, 
 operated instantly and so effectually as to fix his 
 resolution to remain where he was. The men whom 
 he represented as occupying the wilder parts of the 
 forest around him were of all descriptions, but 
 chiefly serfs who had deserted from the service of 
 their new lords, and who burned with desire to 
 avenge the injuries they had received. Many of 
 them were of Saxon origin, but those living with 
 Angus were all of the ancient race of inhabitants, 
 and most of them originally of the district over 
 which his family had held sway. On them he had 
 perfect dependence, and he had contrived to pro- 
 vide them sufficiently in both defensive and offen- 
 sive armour.
 
 271 
 
 CHAPTER Xri. 
 
 Ah ! wretched world, the den of wickedness — 
 Deformed by sin and foul iniquity. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 He wond'red much at his so selcouthe case, 
 And by his persone's secret seemlyhied, 
 Well weened that he had been some man of place, 
 Before Misfortune did his hue deface. 
 
 Faery Queene. 
 
 The next day, messengers having been despatch- 
 ed to different parts of the forest early in the morn- 
 ing, to warn the outlaws to attend that afternoon 
 on their Chief, Wallace departed with a few select 
 followers, to choose the ground whereon to meet 
 Fenwick, and (still in disguise) to visit the friendly 
 barons who had secretly promised support. As 
 he had only five days to prepare every thing, the 
 task to any other would have been extremely ardu- 
 ous; but he went forth joyously, as one who had 
 attained what he had long ardently desired, and
 
 272 
 
 his native vigour seemed increased, and his mental 
 energies excited to extraordinary exertion, by the 
 nature of the work he was engaged in. The only 
 anxiety he felt was on account of his bethrothed. 
 She had parted from him, full of that enthusiastic 
 ardour which he had been mainly instrumental in 
 raising within her ; and, being naturally courage- 
 ous, she had no misgiving as to the event ; but he 
 could not look on her position without uneasiness — 
 in the guardianship of one whose noble nature was 
 shrouded too often in the mist of partial insanity, 
 at a time, when a shrewd man like the Governor, 
 whose knowledge was so extensive, must guess at 
 the connection which existed between him and the 
 outlaws of those hills, and who, at this period, 
 would be most likely to make further attempts on 
 them. 
 
 Yet he relied much on the superstitious dread 
 which prevailed regarding the inhabitants of that 
 quarter, and also on the prowess of Angus and his 
 bands. Even if she had been willing to leave her 
 uncle, Wallace had no place of safety for her. In 
 any friendly house she would be exposed to the
 
 273 
 
 sight of Piercy's friends ; and he (he was aware) 
 deemed her a prize for some one of his followers. 
 
 Being well acquainted with the ground hetween 
 Ayr and Lanark, he had already, in his own mind, 
 marked out his first battle field ; and he went 
 directly across the country to it. It was in the 
 neighbourhood of Loudonhill, near a place called 
 Allanton, and like almost the whole district, 
 covered with wood. After surveying it minutely, 
 he went off" alone in the garb of a peasant and on 
 foot, to apprize his friends of the coming event, 
 leaving his men to occupy the recesses of the 
 forest until his return ; and here we must leave him 
 to relate what occurred in Afton after his de- 
 parture. 
 
 On the second day thereafter, and when Angus 
 had dispatched all those he had summoned together 
 from a distance to join the few Wallace left near 
 Loudonhill, Marion proposed to him to go forth to 
 a particular spot in the forest, nearly a mile dis- 
 tant, where, she said, Duncan had told her he had 
 seen lately many roe deer and also some caper- 
 cailzie — " I am even tired," said she, " dear uncle, 
 m2
 
 274 
 
 of lingering in one place till we hear from Wal- 
 lace." 
 
 " Why shouldst thou I " replied he. " Thou 
 art not wont to sit down when the chase doth 
 promise well. Come, come ! do not let fear over- 
 come thee." 
 
 " Nay, call it not fear ; when I think of his 
 prowess I have no fears ; but still there is a some- 
 thing—it may be, uncle, the woman, after all, 
 claiming her portion in me." 
 
 Angus smiled. " Nay, though thou hast a 
 spirit in thee, thou art a very woman, natheless, 
 be assured." 
 
 " Wilt thou come, good uncle f 
 
 *' I think not, child. I must remain here. Thou 
 shalt be safe where thou goest, as scarcely human 
 foot hath trod the place but our own ; still thou 
 must take the ten specially chosen to attend thee." 
 
 " Thou dost not think me afraid of aught there?" 
 enquired she, with something like surprise. 
 
 " No, no, child ; thou hast e'en too little fear ; 
 but thou knowest I have kept twenty of those who 
 were to join AYallace, in order that thou mightst be
 
 275 
 
 surrounded by the men he selected ; so I shall not 
 need them, and thou must not go forth with a 
 smaller number ; take Duncan also as guide. 
 Bless thee, my child, a pleasant day," continued he, 
 as he left her to order out the attendants. 
 
 About four hours before the time of which we 
 are speaking, a considerable body of horsemen 
 stopped at the gate of Cumnock Castle ; and after 
 a flourish from their trumpets, the warder, recog- 
 nizing the penons, had the gate opened and draw- 
 bridge lowered. The two knights, Heselrig and 
 Ridley, rode at their head, and they were met in 
 the court by Sir Reginald Crawford, who received 
 them with all courtesy. 
 
 " Welcome, brave friends. Ye take me some- 
 what unawares ; natheless, we shall not fail to ac- 
 commodate you all in such fashion as our poor 
 house may." 
 
 " Thanks, Crawford, for thy courteous greeting," 
 said Heselrig; " truly our coming is sudden, but 
 thou knowest we poor men-at-arms must march at 
 the bidding of our lords, when and where they 
 choose."
 
 270 
 
 " Even so it is, good comrade ; I pray you enter 
 the Castle." 
 
 " But first, let me say these fellows are only to 
 halt here for an hour ; then we go onwards on our 
 journey ; and I prithee, good Captain, give orders 
 that man and horse have needing refreshment." 
 
 " Instautly I shall," replied Reginald, who knew 
 there was just the same degree of good will on 
 Heselrig's part towards him which he entertained 
 for that worthy Knight himself, and that the cour- 
 tesy of both was somewhat strained to cover the 
 real feelings of each. After they had entered the 
 hall, and were fairly engaged in conversation, Re- 
 ginald enquired if they were going towards San- 
 quhar Castle. 
 
 " Xo," replied Heselrig, briefly and unceremo- 
 niously ; and the questioner, though rather sur- 
 prised, could not prosecute his queries ; but his 
 mind immediately reverted to the haunted glen, 
 and, at a venture, he remarked that they had seen 
 or heard nothing of the Ettin, or the Enchantress, 
 
 since the day when 
 
 " Hush ! Sir Reginald Crawford," said Hesel-
 
 277 
 
 rig gloomily, " speak not of that ;" and then he 
 added in a whisper, " the Lord Governor doth not 
 like the tale, and it is forbidden among his fol- 
 lowers." 
 
 " And thereby many a good deed of knighthood 
 prevented," replied Crawford. " I myself have 
 been commanded not to try it." 
 
 Thus they conversed coldly and under restraint, 
 till the trumpets sounded to horse, and the South- 
 rons proceeded on their expedition. As they rode 
 slowly on, the two Knights a little in advance, 
 Heselrig began to repeat the instructions he had 
 already given to Ridley. " The guides know every 
 inch of the locality ; they will take thee to the very 
 den of the outlaws." 
 
 " Thou canst rely on them entirely 1 " asked 
 Ridley. 
 
 " Surely," said Heselrig ; " they are villeins sub- 
 orned and trainecf to the purpose ; fellows, whom 
 these greenwood knaves believe to be of them- 
 selves." 
 
 " And so perhaps they are," suggested Ridley. 
 
 Heselrig smiled grimly. " They were sent, some
 
 278 
 
 weeks since, witli a plausible tale of ill usage from 
 their Southron masters, to herd with the rogues ; 
 they are men of Northumberland who hare been 
 long here, and can speak the gibberish, and sworn 
 men of the Piercy ; but, independent of that, 
 they haye been told of the instructions which are 
 given, and which I now tell thee as thy last direc- 
 tion — *' If thou dost perceive in the fellow that guides 
 thy band any sign of treachery, thou art to cut him 
 to pieces on the spot." 
 
 " If they are the born men of our Lord, I think 
 we may trust them." 
 
 " Then, Richard Eidley, here we part ; the spot 
 where I expect to meet my quarry, and which 
 another trusty agent will guide her to, is in this 
 direction ;" pointing to the east of the mountains 
 that bound the glen. 
 
 Marion of Lammington went forth to the chase 
 in a more sombre mood than usual ; but the day 
 was fine, and her spirits rose with the exercise. 
 They soon reached the place where Duncan had 
 discovered such abundance of game, and had met 
 with some sport. But while her attendants
 
 279 
 
 were beating the underwood in a particular spot, 
 and she was watching as if she expected some- 
 thing to start out of it, a cry of alarm arose be- 
 hind her; and, turning round, she perceived to 
 her dismay a band of armed men in the act of 
 surrounding her small party. The colour mounted 
 to her cheek, and her eye flashed, as she demanded 
 who they were. 
 
 The leader stepped forward, and "Fair lady — '* 
 he began. 
 
 " Blessed Virgin !" she exclaimed, '' it is He- 
 selrig ! O help me, Heaven ! " 
 
 Her followers drew close. Seizing her horn, she 
 blew it instantly ; then, in a voice that thrilled 
 through Heselrig, " Stand back, man ! approach 
 rae not !" she cried, at the same moment fitting an 
 arrow to her bow. 
 
 " Nay, fairest creature, do not misunderstand 
 me ; T mean no harm, only thou must come with 
 me. It is the command of the Governor ; resist- 
 ance is vain, I have five to one." 
 
 " If thou hadst a hundred to one, I would die 
 rather than go with thee."
 
 280 
 
 " Thou T\^ilt do thyself an injury when none is 
 intended." 
 
 At this moment it was obseryed that Duncan, 
 who induced her to come there, had gone oyer to 
 the ranks of the Southrons. 
 
 " Traitor ! traitor ! My brave friends, we are 
 foully betrayed. Wilt thou shame those spurs 
 thou dost wear, Sir Knight, and thus basely steal 
 upon an unprotected damsel?" 
 
 " Lady, I pray thee, put thyself under my 
 charge, and fear nothing," replied Heselrig, still 
 adyancing, and making a signal to his men to close 
 in upon her. 
 
 Without more words, she discharged an ar- 
 row at him, which, striking on his helmet of 
 proof, glanced off, without doing injury. At 
 the same instant another from the hand of a fol- 
 lower, transfixed the treacherous Duncan. The 
 rest was the work of an instant. The small party 
 was oyerpowered, disarmed, or slain by the South- 
 rons. 
 
 " Quick," cried Heselrig, " obey the orders al-
 
 281 
 
 ready given. I know what a blast of that horn 
 may bring on us. No time for courtesy." 
 
 The last remark was addressed to a man-at- 
 arms, who was soothing, apparently, and comfort- 
 ing as well as he could, the despairing Marion. 
 His directions were carried into effect immediately. 
 Her face being muffled up to prevent speaking or 
 crying, she was hurried off, along with her at- 
 tendants who were able to go (the rest being 
 stretched on the ground), to where they had left 
 their horses, in a neighbouring glade. There she 
 was speedily placed on horseback behind one of 
 Heselrig's followers, and the band hastened away 
 in the direction of the road leading down Nithsdale. 
 Meanwhile, the stronger detachment under Rid- 
 ley pursued the course of the Affcon, with undevia- 
 ting certainty, until it arrived at the spot where 
 we discovered Wallace and Marion seated in the 
 last chapter, and crossing the Afton, entered the 
 dell on the opposite side, following each other 
 up its narrow channel in silence, but not with- 
 out evincing many signs of surprise and wonder. 
 A scout, perched on the cliff, had been struck
 
 282 
 
 hj the regularity and precision with which they 
 advanced, and, when they entered the dell, he ran 
 hastily to report the fact to his Chief, who guessed 
 the truth at once, and took his measures accord- 
 ingly. The Southrons had entered the winding 
 path up the cliff, and were slowly ascending, when 
 a voice that awoke the echo of the hills, demanded 
 who they were, and what they wanted. 
 
 *' On ! on ! " cried Eidley impatiently to his men, 
 while he himself rapidly mounted. When he had 
 gained the upper half of the ascent, he perceived 
 that the road was beset by a number of strange 
 looking people, whose aspect was frightful. 
 
 "Saints of Heaven!" exclaimed he, crossing 
 himself, *' are we among the savages of Ind !" 
 
 He was brave, however, as knight need to be, 
 and instantly charged the foremost of them, fight- 
 ing his way with a few to the very top ; here he 
 was confronted by one whose appearance was infi- 
 nitely more startling than that of the rest. His 
 size was gigantic, and at first sight his body seemed 
 to be covered with his own red hair, saving where a 
 plaid was so disposed as to cover him in front.
 
 283 
 
 Theeyesof tMshuge personage glared with preterna- 
 tural fire as he stared on the Southrons; then, cast- 
 ing a glance on his own followers, he blew a short 
 blast on his horn, which sounded like the war-note 
 of some unknown being ; in place of a club, he 
 wielded on this occasion a large and heavy sword. 
 Eidley gazed, his sword pointed towards him, in a 
 sort of bewildered amazement, but he was speedily 
 roused by the increasing noise below, and the ne- 
 cessity for acting with promptitude. 
 
 The Ettin appeared to regard quietly the asto- 
 nishment of his enemies ; but when Eidley drew 
 himself up as if to attack, he called out, — "Back! ye 
 Southron bloodhounds ; what do ye here V^ 
 
 " Whatever thou art," cried the other, *' I will 
 assail thee." 
 
 They then engaged hand to hand, while the battle 
 raged around among their followers. 
 
 Ridley soon found that he was opposed to one 
 who understood the use of arms as well as he, and 
 whose blows fell like the strokes of some powerful 
 engine. His armour long resisted them, however, 
 and they fought on, until the Ettin, who seemed
 
 284 
 
 neither tired nor wounded, while the other was 
 nearly exhausted, threw his whole great strength 
 into a blow, which laid open the corslet of the Knight 
 and stretched him on the ground, where he lay mo- 
 tionless. 
 
 " Now yield thee, Southron, or die!" cried the 
 Ettin ; but the Knight replied not. 
 
 Meanwhile, the outlaws had hurled the opposing 
 party, who were on the foot-path, back to the dell ; 
 and the noise of the strife continued there; while the 
 few who had reached the top, seeing the fate of their 
 leader, fled also with great precipitation, and, join- 
 ing their comrades, to whom they related what had 
 occurred, and that the Knight had been slain by a 
 sort of savage giant, the whole began a retreat, 
 which soon became a flight, followed by the outlaws. 
 
 It was not long before Sir Richard Ridley reco- 
 vered sufficiently to sit up and gaze around him, 
 marvelling exceedingly at the strange result of his 
 undertaking; the noise of the pursuit, and the cries of 
 terror from his men, mingling together, formed a 
 sound which left no room to doubt that he had been 
 defeated at all points, and by enemies as singular
 
 285 
 
 as Christian knight ever encountered. In a short 
 time, the individual who had overthrown him re- 
 turned, and seeing that he had recovered his senses, 
 demanded whether he rendered himself the captive 
 of his arm, to which the other answered that he had 
 no alternative. The Ettin, then stooping down, 
 helped him to unlace his corslet, and without 
 speaking a word, examined the wound, which was 
 found to be slight ; the force of the blow having 
 stunned him, when he was worn out by the fight. 
 
 '* Thou shalt not die of this wound, Sir Southron 
 Knight," said the Ettin. 
 
 " Thou dost speak gently," replied Ridley, over- 
 come with wonder, '' and yet thy form is selcouth! 
 In the name of Heaven, what art thou?" 
 
 " Keep thyself still," said the Ettin, " thou art 
 not to put questions, but to remember that thou 
 art a prisoner at my mercy. Is it so strange to 
 find gentleness under a rude exterior ; so wonder- 
 ful, in wretched Scotland, to see the noblest of the 
 land reduced to the garb of the greenwood by 
 Southron oppression." 
 
 Silent and abashed, Ridley scanned curiously
 
 286 
 
 the form of his conqueror, and perceived that what 
 he believed to be his own hair, was in reality the 
 natural covering of his dress, which, fitting tightly 
 to his person, and shewing no joining or nneven- 
 ness any where, seemed his own skin ; beneath it 
 his eye detected also, in some places which his 
 sword had found, the glittering links of a shirt of 
 mail. 
 
 " Thou seest the secret that hath terrified thy 
 countrymen in these parts," said the Ettin, with a 
 look of scornful triumph ; " and thou knowest 
 that no evil spirit of the wild hath overthrown 
 thee. Be it so. I am heedless who may know it 
 now. This is no longer a place for me." 
 
 " Too truly hast thou spoken, though unwitting- 
 ly," cried the voice of Allan, from the other side 
 of the cliff which he had just reached. " Woe ! 
 woe !" 
 
 He staggered forward, and, steadying himself 
 on his bow, gazed piteously in Angus's face. 
 
 " What? w^hat sayest thou? Speak !" exclaimed 
 the latter, gazing with horror on his wounded fol- 
 lower : " where is she?"
 
 287 
 
 Allan held down his head, and repeated the ex- 
 clamation, "Woe, woe !" 
 
 '' Speak, man ! would' st drive me wild ! " cried 
 Angus, his aspect becoming extremely excited. 
 
 Startled by these words, Allan raised his head. 
 " The traitor Duncan led us into a snare ! my bow 
 requited him,' but we were surrounded, overpowered, 
 and " 
 
 " Merciful Heaven ! what next V 
 
 " Captive ;" uttered the other, in a voice that 
 seemed choked. 
 
 Angus clasped his hands over his head, his coun- 
 tenance becoming wild and maniac-like. " Now ! 
 now ! is my cup of bitterness full," ejaculated he. 
 His rolling eye lighted on his prisoner ; at one 
 spring he seized him by the throat. 
 
 " Thy murderous kindred have reft mine inno- 
 cent child ; and shalt thou live f 
 
 Ridley turned pale in his grasp, but offered no 
 resistance ; and Allan stepped forward with his 
 drawn dagger, crying out, " Slay, slay him ! my 
 Chief! too poor a sacrifice to atone the deed." 
 
 Angus shook him several times, grinding his
 
 288 
 
 teeth ; aud once he stretched out his hand to clutch 
 his follower's dagger. Suddenly, however, he threw 
 him from him, and with a wave of his hand mo- 
 tioned Allan to stand off. 
 
 " No," said he, in a low tone ; " I thank hea- 
 ven my senses have not left me altogether." 
 
 He stood long with his hands clasped, and his 
 eyes fixed on the ground, until his prisoner per- 
 ceived a tear to steal over either cheek. Then, 
 heedless of all around him, he leaned his hrow on a 
 tree, and remained in that position for many mi- 
 nutes, the tears falling fast from his eyes. 
 
 Allan, in the meantime, cast many fierce looks 
 on the captive ; and it was evident that nothing 
 but fear of his Chief prevented him, weak as he 
 was, from assaulting him. At length Angus 
 turned to them, and speaking calmly, yet firmly, 
 he thus addressed the Southron : — 
 
 " Sir Knight, thou art my j^risoner; and, in 
 requital of the foul deed which thy friends have 
 just committed, the laws of man, and thine own 
 code of honour, would justify me in putting thee 
 to death. I cannot, in cold blood, slay a fellow-
 
 289 
 
 creature ; and wert thou to remain here, thou 
 wouldst be unsafe among my followers, as thou 
 mayest well believe, from what thou dost see now. 
 Come hither, Allan, mine old and trusty friend ; rest 
 thee on the ground, thou art sore wounded. Thon 
 didst not pause to tell any one of thy dire mis- 
 hap ? " 
 
 " I saw not one," replied Allan ; '' but even 
 now I hear a sound as of men approaching." 
 
 It was so ; the outlaws were returning joyously 
 from the pursuit. 
 
 " Allan," continued Angus, " we shall cause 
 the Southron to say, we return good for evil. 
 We shall shew them that our sense of honour is 
 finer than theirs. This man must be allowed 
 to go." 
 
 Allan shook his head, scowling ferociously on 
 Ridley. 
 
 " Permit," said Ridley, who was of a different 
 mould from Heselrig, " that I speak a few words. 
 I know not what hath been done to which thy fol- 
 lower makes allusion ; but of this be assured, that
 
 290 
 
 I had no share in any act which the other hand of 
 my countrymen, whose commander was also mine, 
 may have committed. I am ignorant of what they 
 have done." 
 
 Angus looked at him steadily. His helmet 
 was now ofif, and he displayed a handsome and 
 youthful countenance, which hore on it the stamp 
 of sincerity. — " Too good," muttered Angus ; 
 " too good for his foul work — for his tyrant 
 King." 
 
 " Young man, thou may est live to grieye oyer 
 scenes like this, and to think of the wrongs we 
 endure when thine own sufferings are at the 
 height." 
 
 " Would to Heayen I could do aught to alle- 
 viate thine ; hut if I am allowed to return, thon 
 mayest he assured that the Lord Piercy shall know 
 what sort of men are here driven to the wilder- 
 ness." 
 
 " Thou shalt not ask his pity for me, hut thou 
 canst tell him that Angus MacRie scorns him and 
 his tyrant ahke. Begone, Sir Knight ! I see one 
 who shall take thee safe through my band, and
 
 291 
 
 then thou mayest readily find thy way to Cumnock 
 Castle." 
 
 He turned away, and calling one of his men 
 who just then appeared on the cliff, whispered a 
 few words to him. Ridley lingered as if desirous 
 of speaking again, hut Angus motioned him im- 
 patiently off, and he departed with a feeling of 
 perfect security, so well did he seem to understand 
 the person he had just left. 
 
 The straggling and dismayed Southrons fled 
 with the speed of despair before the enraged Scots, 
 down the narrow gorge, on the other side of which 
 their horses had been left, leaving many of their 
 number behind. And on reaching their steeds, 
 they mounted instantly and rode off as fast as 
 possible to Cumnock Castle, where their disordered 
 and dismayed appearance created surprise and 
 consternation. Sir Reginald instantly despatched 
 a party to succour Ridley and the wounded who 
 were left behind ; and with it went back as many 
 of the discomfited band as terror would permit. 
 They met the Knight near the opening of the pass, 
 wending his way alone, but not suffering much
 
 292 
 
 from his wounds. They informed him of their 
 object. 
 
 " You may go," replied he, " in perfect safety, 
 to carry off such as are hurt, but my malison be 
 on ye all if you venture to assail the man who hath 
 his abode there. He hath behaved towards us in 
 a manner which my conscience tells me we do not 
 deserve. I have his word, and sure I am, better 
 assurance none can have that the Captain of Cum- 
 nock may send in all security to take off our 
 wounded." 
 
 If they were surprised to find that he had 
 escaped from these wild unearthly people, they 
 marvelled still more at his words. 
 
 " I have seen and heard to-day," continued Sir 
 Richard, addressing the leader of the Crawfords, 
 " what I shall not forget in many years." 
 
 He then told, in the hearing of all, how he had 
 been allowed to depart, ransomless and free, when 
 the accounts had just arrived thatHeselrighad seized 
 and carried off the child of this Chief, and he him- 
 self expected nothing but death as a just retribu- 
 tion. But when he reached the Castle, and it was
 
 293 
 
 told to Sir Reginald that tlie damsel whom he had 
 so much admired was in the clutches of Heselrig, 
 he could not contain his indignation, for he knew 
 well the character of that Knight, and perhaps he 
 knew also a little more of the maiden's history 
 than he did when he saw her. 
 
 Striking the table at which he sat with his 
 clenched fist, till the cups and dishes tumbled over 
 each other, he started up with a loud malediction 
 on the dastard who could be guilty of such a deed. 
 " The Lord Governor," said he, " could not 
 command it." 
 
 " In sooth, I wot not," answered Ridley ; " but 
 he shall soon know it." 
 
 " What !" continued Crawford, " she is pure as 
 the flower of her own vale ; he, foul as the lowest 
 sink of iniquity !" 
 
 " Nay, nay, Crawford, thou art now too warm," 
 interposed Ridley. 
 
 " I tell thee, man, thou knowest not," cried 
 Crawford ; then stopped abruptly. — " But thou 
 art right, Ridley ; the commands of our Ruler must 
 be obeyed, and we must find out first how far He-
 
 204 
 
 selrig hath warrandice for this deed; but if he 
 hath not, I tell thee he shall break a lance with 
 me, or bear the brand of dastard and craven here- 
 after." 
 
 Ridley began to wonder at this heat, and ex- 
 pressed a desire to learn where Reginald got any 
 knowledge of the damsel. The latter, beginning 
 to cool, became also more cautious, and freely 
 acknowledged that he had seen her once on the 
 hills, when he went in quest of the Red Ettin, and 
 had been much interested by her appearance ; but 
 trying to give the conyersation a different turn, — 
 " Hast thou seen any thing of this giant V enquir- 
 ed he. 
 
 " I think so," replied Ridley, smiling. " My 
 friend, I haye measured swords with, and, sooth to 
 sa^y, have been at the mercy of this Red Ettin ; 
 and what dost think I found him? " 
 
 All leaned forward to listen, and the hall was 
 crowded. 
 
 " A man ! no more than a man, nor less ; but 
 hark ye, Sir Reginald Crawford, I have seen few
 
 295 
 
 men equal to him, all wild and savage as lie doth 
 seem." 
 
 The old Harper shook his head at this an- 
 nouncement, whispering to one who was near, — 
 " He hath cast the glamour over him — the Ettin 
 is wizard enough for that ; credit me, the good 
 Knight will find that he is no man of mould, ere 
 the play be done." 
 
 These words, uttered with an oracular nod, in- 
 timated at least that Baldwin was not hastily to 
 abandon a long-cherished belief, which he had in- 
 terwoven with many a lay." 
 
 " I marvel," continued he, '* what hath befallen 
 the Minstrel of the Glen, in all this turmoil. I have 
 not seen him for weeks." 
 
 " The Ettin hath devoured him, Baldwin," said 
 a grinning man-at-arms, who had more faith in 
 Ridley's account than the Harper desired ; and the 
 latter tossed his head with an indignant frown at 
 the ill-timed jest. 
 
 It was late in the evening, when Ridley and such 
 of his band as were able for the journey, arrived at 
 the Castle of Ayr. Instantly demanding a private
 
 296 
 
 audience of tlie Governor, he proceeded to lay be- 
 fore him the result of the expedition ; and great 
 was the Lord Piercy's astonishment, and even 
 alarm, at this repetition of discomfiture in that se- 
 questered glen ; but when he heard of the personal 
 encounter betAveeu Ridley and him Avho was known 
 as the Ettin, his surprise broke out into sundry 
 exclamations. " Angus M'Rie ! that name hath 
 been known to me in times long gone bye. He was 
 then a youth like myself. When I was a 'squire- 
 at-arms, his renown spread far as a warrior. I 
 deemed him lost to the world after the ruin of his 
 house, and I little thought to find him in arms on 
 the hills." 
 
 He walked the apartment in considerable agi- 
 tation, feeling the want of Heselrig, to whom he 
 always more freely opened his mind. The idea of 
 that personage suggested the inquiry as to where 
 Ridley had parted from him. 
 
 The latter was anxious to know how far Heselrig 
 had authority for the capture of Marion, and 
 abruptly told him that they had separated at the
 
 297 
 
 gorge of the glen, and lie had not seen him since 
 he " made captive of the damsel." 
 
 The Governor fixed his eyes on the Knight — 
 " Captive ! I think that is a wrong word, Ridley. 
 Heselrig was ordered to proceed to Lanark, direct 
 from Cumnock, and the damsel must have travelled 
 with him to her friends of that shire. Captive ! 
 No, no." 
 
 *' So the outlaws reported." 
 
 Ridley thought there was a slight start mani- 
 fested by Piercy at these words ; but he repeated, 
 *' No, no ! no capture ! Doubtless we shall hear 
 from Heselrig to-night or to-morrow, and all shall 
 be explained. Thou knowest that a large convoy 
 will travel towards Lanark to-morrow. Par Dieu ! 
 we must strengthen our bands since outlaws are 
 thus daring. Heard' st thou aught of another 
 ranger of the woods, even Wallace f 
 
 " No, my Lord ; not a word was said about 
 him yonder." 
 
 " Natheless, he must be in communication with 
 my trusty friend, Angus, that is certain. Those 
 men will not remain, thou sayest, in their fastness?"
 
 298 
 
 " No ; tliey were to remove immediately ; indeed, 
 now that their secrets are all disclosed, we cannot 
 believe they would be so foolish as to remain." 
 
 " It is strange," continued Piercy, " that 
 nothing hath been heard of this Wallace since his 
 appearance here, when he was nearly slain." 
 
 " Perhaps slain outright," suggested Eidley. 
 
 " No, he is alive ; we have that information from 
 a foolish slave, formerly one of Riccarton serfs, 
 who doth haunt this garrison. He is a poor 
 creature, certainly, and what he doth say is not to 
 be heeded, but other circumstances confirm his 
 statement. I had hopes that something might be 
 heard of him on your expedition." 
 
 " May I enquire, my Lord, when Fen wick sets 
 outr' 
 
 " Early to-morrow morning — the wains are 
 ready and the convoy. Thou art too much spent 
 to go, Ridley ; but thy news will cause me to 
 strengthen Fen wick's company. Beaumont shall 
 go, and Featherstone, with some score or two of 
 additional lances. Thou mayest retire— thy 
 wound, thou saidst, is not muchl"
 
 299 
 
 ** A trifle, my Lord ; I need rest only," and 
 llidley withdrew. 
 
 After he retired, Piercy walked long and anxi- 
 ously in the apartment. It was evident he felt the 
 shadow of coming events.
 
 300 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Loud let the news through Scotland ring, 
 The Northern Eagle claps her wing. 
 
 Lord of the Isles. 
 
 After nightfall, a man was seen to issue from 
 the Castle of Ayr in a careless sauntering manner, 
 and to quicken his pace as he got clear of it. On- 
 wards he went with steady step, until he passed 
 the K'ew Town ; nor did he ahate much of his speed 
 till he had reached the leaguer of Wallace, near 
 Allanton. This was Cormack in his ancient 
 garb, but the man within newly created. lie pon- 
 dered in his journey over the news he had heard, 
 and, fearing the effect which the capture of the 
 damsel might have, even on Wallace's strong mind, 
 he deemed it prudent to conceal it till the fight 
 should be over. Entering a wood that skirted the
 
 301 
 
 road, he found Wallace in the middle of the chosen 
 leaders of his small force. 
 
 "Here is CormacL:," cried he cheerfully; " he will 
 tell if there is any alteration in Fenwick's band, 
 or in his course." 
 
 " None," said Cormack, " in his course, but the 
 Governor hath strengthened his band by two 
 knights and tlii-ee score lances." 
 
 " By my faith," said one of chiefs who (as did 
 all the rest) wore his vizor down, "this is a goodly 
 addition. Wherefore hath he done so ?" 
 
 " Some rumours," replied Cormack, " of threat- 
 ening outbreaks in the east, it is said." 
 
 " Whatever be the cause, it is the eflfcct we have 
 to do with, my friends ; we must fight the better. 
 I see not that we can alter our array." 
 
 A consultation then ensued, and it ended in 
 Wallace's opinion, that no alteration should be 
 made, being adopted. Cormack thought ho knew 
 some voices among the speakers, but there was no 
 crest or bearing to denote the parties. That 
 they were men of consequence, who wished not 
 to be known, was evident from their armour, and
 
 302 
 
 the trappings of their steeds, which stood behind, 
 along with those of a small party of men-at-arms, 
 which would not number a fourth of Fenwick's. 
 Wallace's chief reliance was on his spearmen, vas- 
 sals, and tenants of the barons who secretly fayoured 
 his cause. They counted nearly three hundred, 
 while that portion of his opponent's force amounted 
 to as many, supported by two hundred and fifty 
 men-at-arms, fully equipped. It was in the latter 
 that Wallace was so inferior, he having not more 
 than from thirty to forty horsemen altogether. The 
 band of outlaws from the hills of Cumnock being 
 totally without defensive armour, saving their 
 shields, he directed to occupy the wood that ex- 
 tended on each side of the road, choosing the 
 highest ground in front of his position, and to keep 
 up a continued discharge of arrows, especially on 
 the spearmen of the enemy, who, being less effec- 
 tually defended by armour, would suffer more from 
 their short bows and arrows than the iron-clad 
 horsemen. East of them about a bow-shot, Wallace 
 disposed his spearmen in two schiltrons, a short 
 distance apart from each other, the horse being
 
 303 
 
 stationed along with that which was farthest east. 
 He took up his own position in the first schiltron, 
 or most westerly, judging that it would have to 
 bear the full brunt of the Southrons' attack. The 
 latter had also a small baud of archers which the 
 Scottish bowmen were to engage as well as the 
 spearmen, and these Cumnock men were strictly 
 commanded to keep at a little distance, hovering 
 along the flanks of, and by no means coming to 
 close quarters with, the enemy, without orders. 
 
 The schiltrons were drawn up across the road ; 
 their right resting on the wood which was occupied 
 by his own archers, as has just been related, 
 and their left covered by a brook with its high 
 precipitous bank, which completely prevented at- 
 tack from that direction. Thus was Wallace's 
 small force disposed on that eventful day, when he 
 struck the first blow for the freedom of his coun- 
 try ; and it was about sunrise, when he knew the 
 Southrons must be near, that he had them arranged 
 and prepared by every mode of encom^agement, the 
 best of which was the exhibition of his oavu cheer- 
 ful and dauntless countenance.
 
 304 
 
 The Southrons advanced cautiously and in good 
 order, evidently aware that there was a spirit 
 abroad which was likely soon to break out against 
 such detached parties as theirs. Their advanced 
 guard, on turning an angle of tlie road, coming sud- 
 denly in sight of the Scots drawn up within a hun- 
 dred yards of them, drew bridle, and galloped back 
 forthwith to the main body, which halted instantly. 
 
 " Some robber outlaws," said Fenwick, — a large 
 .powerful man, whose tried prowess was held in 
 great estimation by his countrymen — " we shall 
 speedily disperse them." 
 
 He then ordered forward a party of his men-at- 
 arms, to dislodge the small force that was in sight ; 
 and constituted, as he imagined, all that was opposed 
 to him. — On, like a whirlwind, went a hundred horse- 
 men with lance in rest, and down went the Scottish 
 spears, down on their knees the front ranks of the 
 schiltron ; and back, like baffled dogs, from the 
 encounter of a bear, recoiled the men-at-arms, 
 leaving several behind them. Meanwhile, the ca- 
 valcade was slowly advancing ; and, on coming in 
 sight of the contending parties, the Southrons per-
 
 305 
 
 ceived their fellows making repeated charges, ap- 
 parently with little success, and leaying, at each 
 attack, some of their numbers on the ground. 
 
 Fenwick, enraged at the opposition, cried out — 
 " Dare the yillains stand up thus ! Upon them ! 
 St George and Fenwick ! " 
 
 And the whole of the men-at-arms rushed on, 
 shouting — " a Fenwick ! — a Fenwick ! " 
 
 " Hear you that name ! " cried Wallace, in a 
 voice of thunder, " I swear, no worse hath rung in 
 Scotland ! and I make my vow to God to put it 
 down." 
 
 While he spoke, the English were approaching 
 '• full tilt; " and, though his small band met the 
 charge firmly, he perceived, where Fenwick himself 
 attacked, some men were slain, and the schiltron 
 open. Bushing to the spot, he endeavoured to 
 stop the influx of the enemy, and engaged Fen- 
 wick, who, his lance being broken, was dealing 
 fearful blows with his sword on the heads of the 
 Scots. Wallace had little chance of success with 
 such a champion, he being on foot ; yet he thrust 
 so powerfully at him with his spear, that he had
 
 near! J unhorsed liim ; but Fen wick, recovering him- 
 self, dealt him in return a blow on his helmet, which 
 would have stunned an ordinary man, yet had only 
 the effect of rousing Wallace to extraordinary ex- 
 ertion. While they were thus occupied, the other 
 schiltron moved up, with loud cries of " Wallace ! 
 Wallace and liberty ! " and the small party of 
 men-at-arms fearlessly attacked the Southron 
 horsemen ; but their aid was of little effect to pre- 
 vent the complete breaking of the first schiltron, 
 from the number of the enemy, who poured in on 
 it after Fen wick. 
 
 Wallace, glancing round, gave them a word 
 which caused every man to run to the rear of the 
 second phalanx, and form rapidly there, leaving 
 him exposed to Fenwick and many others who sur- 
 rounded him. His courage, and the effect of his 
 blows, struck the Southrons with surprise ; but 
 when they heard the name used as a battle-word 
 by the Scots, they were less amazed than anxious 
 about the result. Turning from Fenwick, he 
 pushed a less formidable enemy from his horse by 
 a thrust of his spear ; and jumping with the speed
 
 307 
 
 of light into tlie saddle, he attacked another with 
 the same success, Fenwick being then occupied with 
 directing a simultaneous charge on this second 
 schiltron. The Southrons took ground for their 
 career, and Wallace placed himself in front, di- 
 rectly opposed to Fenwick, whom he thus encoun-' 
 tered. The shock was so startling as to attract 
 the notice of many on both sides ; and when the 
 Southrons withdrew from this attack, which was 
 unsuccessful, both parties paused to gaze on the 
 combat between their two champions, whose spears 
 were both broken — for Fenwick had been supplied 
 with another — and they drew their swords. " Thou 
 art the outlaw thief, Wallace," " and thou my 
 father's murderer," were the phrases exchanged 
 between them, in voices which quiyered with rage, 
 as they attacked each other. Meanwhile the 
 Southron spearmen had come down on the flank of 
 the schiltron, under showers of arrows from the 
 Cumnock men, who behaved bravely, and had 
 dispersed the archers who were ordered into the 
 wood to dislodge them ; and, oppressed with an 
 enemy in front and on the flank, the small schil-
 
 308 
 
 tron could not maintain its ground without extra- 
 ordinary prowess, both on its own part and that 
 of its Chief; — indeed all of them fought that day 
 like men " born to renown," who knew that much 
 depended on the fight. 
 
 But their leader was in himself a host, and the 
 result of his combat with Fenwick had a wonderful 
 effect on both sides. Fenwick was slain, after an 
 obstinate and gallant contest ; and Wallace, having 
 accomplished his object in taking a horse, dis- 
 mounted immediately, and again took his position 
 in the schiltron, amidst the loud shouts of his 
 countrymen. The English stood for a moment 
 aghast at the turn which this single encounter had 
 taken ; but, encouraged by the knight next in com- 
 mand to Fenwick, who was named Beaumont, they 
 made another simultaneous charge on the small 
 phalanx, which firmly maintained its ground, and 
 the result decided the fate of the battle. Wallace 
 encountered Beaumont, and although he was on 
 foot in the first rank of the schiltron, he slew him 
 with a stroke of his spear. Many others of the 
 Southrons were left on the ground, after this most
 
 309 
 
 disastrous of their onsets hitherto made. " The 
 devil surely aids this outlaw champion," ejacu- 
 lated Featherstone, who had now the command. 
 
 Wallace saw some hesitation on the part of 
 the English men-at-arms ; their spearmen, hav- 
 ing already been repulsed, were standing aloof 
 also, and he blew a short note on his horn, the 
 signal for the Cumnock men to bear down with 
 their broad-swords on the latter, while he ordered 
 his own schiltron to advance slowly. 
 
 This onward movement disconcerted the English 
 so much that their spearmen broke away and fled 
 in great trepidation, followed by the men of Cum- 
 nock. But Wallace, ever wary, saw that if they 
 continued the chase they must be exposed to the 
 men-at-arms, who were preparing to charge them, 
 and sounded another brief note, which recalled the 
 obedient, though reluctant pursuers. He had 
 reason to regret the want of horsemen now, for his 
 small troop was totally unable to cope with a band 
 that still outnumbered it in the proportion of five 
 to one. As the latter kept its ground, however, 
 he advanced the schiltron, flanked by the few horse-
 
 310 
 
 men ho had. The Southrons, encouraged hy their 
 leaders, made a last and ineffectual charge, >\hich 
 proved more severe on themselves than any they 
 had previously made. The Scots having no other 
 enemy to distract their attention, received them 
 with such fury, that in an instant more than a score 
 were cast from the saddle, while many others Avere 
 grievously hurt. The Scottish men-at-arms con- 
 tinuing to assail them, and the men within the 
 schiltron throwing their spears, while those in front 
 thrust at every one within reach, tliey lost heart 
 entirely, and left the field, followed by the bold 
 hearts on horseback of the Scottish force, who pur- 
 sued them until they were passed the wains, and in 
 full flight for Ayr. 
 
 Wallace then, his heart swelling with triumphant 
 exultation, and his followers vociferous in their 
 joy, directed the long line of wagons to proceed 
 into the interior of the forest, until they should 
 deliberate on what course to take next. Then 
 came Cormack's secret; and the agony of the strong 
 man and the strong mind was frightful for his 
 friends to contemplate.
 
 311 
 
 He withdrew liimself instantly into a retired 
 spot, and after a while returned, with a grave and 
 stern expression of countenance, but composed. 
 His leaders, in the meantime, had agreed among 
 themselves, that the wild country, near Lanark, 
 which was densely covered with wood, would be 
 their best retreat, as in the neighbourhood of Both- 
 well, Douglas, and other important castles, whose 
 lords were in favour of Wallace. He gave in 
 readily to their suggestion, and adopted it the 
 more eagerly that Heselrig was now Sheriff of 
 Lanark, his father having gone to England on 
 the preceding day, and it was probable that his 
 unhappy captive was immured in the Castle there. 
 He could not doubt Heselrig's motives for this 
 outrage ; and the known character of the man left 
 him no hope that he would refrain from any mea- 
 sures by which he could obtain his object. 
 
 The joyous band, who were ignorant of their 
 commander's afflictions, excepting the few leading 
 men about his person, travelled cheerily throughout 
 the following night, lighted by the moon, keeping the 
 highway until they ueared the spot which they had
 
 312 
 * 
 fixed upon, a few miles north-east of Lanark, then 
 struck off into the thick forest ; and there, after 
 resting from their fatigue, they constructed such 
 bowers as outlaws were wont to rear beneath the 
 greenwood tree, chiefly of wood, with turf and 
 rushes for a roof. They had great difficulty in 
 getting the large wains into the interior, but by 
 levelling trees here, and leaving a waggon there, 
 after unloading it, they succeeded in getting all in 
 safely ; and it was a supply sufficient to keep them 
 from either hunting or attacking small parties of 
 Southrons for some time ; a chief object with them, 
 as concealment was necessary at that period, espe- 
 cially as Lord Piercy might draw together all his 
 forces to crush them at once, before the new 
 friends whom this success would draw to them 
 could have time to muster. 
 
 They were scarcely settled in their new encamp- 
 ment, when Wallace drew Cormack aside, and in 
 his presence gave full vent to the bitterness of his 
 soul ; after which, pressing the hand of his faithful 
 henchman, he thus addressed him : " Cormack, my 
 old friend and playfellow, thou art now a tried
 
 313 
 
 warrior on stricken field, and thou mayest learn 
 from the rest that none went before thee: thy 
 praises are rung in mine ear by all. This I ex- 
 pected ; for thy courage was proved to me in a 
 thousand ways before. I am now going to try 
 thy stout heart and thy zeal for me, indeed. Thou 
 seest, my friend, we must discover what this false 
 Knight hath done with her, where he hath lodged 
 her, and what method he is taking to bend her to 
 his will." 
 
 " My dear master," said Cormack, " I shall 
 travel night and day till I discover her ; but I am 
 in hopes the lady will meet with no ill usage, for 
 I overheard the Lord Governor say to Sir Arthur 
 of Heselrig, ' that she were a bride fit for a 
 lord.' " 
 
 '• And doth he know of this, the proud Piercy ?" 
 asked Wallace. 
 
 " I am sure he would not countenance severity; 
 but it may be he hath suggested to his favourite 
 that she would be a meet prize for him." 
 
 " I see not how that improves the matter, for 
 he will be equally harsh and repulsive in any form
 
 314 
 
 into which he puts his odious addresses — but how 
 is this. Cor mack, thou art pale !" 
 
 " A slight scratch with a lance; nothing to 
 speak of," replied the henchman. 
 
 '' Nay, it is not so." Wallace opened his doub- 
 let, and perceived a large gash in his side. " O 
 Cormack ! Cormack ! this zeal in my behalf will 
 injure me as much as thee ! It is folly, it is mad- 
 ness to sacrifice thyself thus ! Why didst thou not 
 go with others who were hurt to the several friendly 
 places near the field — Loudon for instance ?" 
 
 " Dear master, it will soon heal." 
 
 " It will kill thee, my friend, if thou dost lack 
 help." 
 
 Cormack looked distressed at the idea of being 
 laid up, but his Chief was peremptory ; and it was 
 arranged that he should proceed next night on one 
 of their horses to his old friend Simon of Hilton, 
 where he would be tended by his former nurse, 
 Wallace assuring him that the search after the 
 Lady Marion would be conducted in the meantime 
 by several others, on whom he could depend. 
 Cormack found some consolation in the locality to
 
 315 
 
 which the fate of war had destined him ; yet, al- 
 though he reflected on the pleasure he would derive 
 from the company of Alice, his true heart ever re- 
 verted to the hard lot of his much-loved lady.
 
 316 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " False traytor Knight," quod she, " no Knight at all ! 
 But scorne of armes thou hast with guilty hand 
 Murdered my men and slayne my seneschall, 
 Mean'st thou to spoil myselfe that cannot thee withstande." 
 
 Spensek. 
 
 Heselrig and his band travelled with consi- 
 derable celerity, until they were at some distance 
 from Cumnock, and on the road leading to the pass 
 through Douglas-dale into Lanarkshire. His captive 
 had at first given way to grief, which vented itself 
 in lamentations uttered in a low tone, and mixed 
 with many sobs, for her uncle rather than herself; 
 but her native courage, mingled with disdain of her 
 captor, and anger at his daring outrage, soon got 
 the better of her sorrow, and she maintained 
 throughout a dignified silence, even when Heselrig 
 approached, as their pace became slower, to assure
 
 317 
 
 her of his most respectful attentions, and his re- 
 gret at being obliged to commit this act of aggres- 
 sion, by the command of his lord, who behoved 
 to protect the lady from a tribe of warlike free- 
 booters, called Jardine, who were about to invade 
 Cumnock to carry her oflf. She replied not, but 
 she mused over this announcement, which tallied 
 strangely with the fears she had entertained before, 
 and it was well known that the mosstroopers of 
 Annandale, in their raids, had often penetrated as 
 far as Cumnock, and were well acquainted with the 
 intervening country, but all this (thought she at 
 last) he hath learnt from other quarters. The 
 party, only stopping occasionally to allow her a 
 little rest, journeyed steadily on, and reached 
 Lanark Castle before midnight. The lady, with a 
 maiden who had been seized along with her, was in- 
 stantly conducted to apartments prepared for her, 
 and treated with all honour. 
 
 Meanwhile, Heselrig was in doubt how to con- 
 duct himself towards her. Her exquisite beauty 
 had enthralled him ; and the graceful courage she 
 exhibited, joined to the most artless and feminine
 
 318 
 
 innocence, raised in him a feeling of admiration, 
 which he had never experienced before. Then her 
 possessions were considerable, and her rank equal 
 at least to his own. These considerations induced 
 him to woo her honourably, trusting to his own 
 address to palliate the offence of her capture, and 
 to recommend himself to her. But, again, the fiend 
 within him, hardened by a course of lawless prac- 
 tices, whispered that it would he unworthy of him, 
 given to mirth and gaiety as he was, to shackle 
 himself in the bonds of matrimony, especially as his 
 comrades would laugh him to scorn for his want of 
 success with the Scottish maiden, in the 'manner 
 most congenial to him. The next day, he was 
 busied in the arrangements consequent on taking 
 possession of his district ; and, towards noon, he 
 expected a reinforcement to his garrison from 
 Ayr, in the convoy of those wagons we have men- 
 tioned, the spearmen of which were to remain with 
 him. 
 
 Lanark was a large and strong castle, stand- 
 ing between the town of that name and the Clyde, 
 in a country which was then, and for many cen-
 
 319 
 
 turies before, one of the richest in Scotland ; its 
 apple gardens being celebrated in the songs of the 
 ancient British inhabitants. Farther off the river, 
 the district was wild moor or deep forest. In the 
 latter, it was said, bands of runaway serfs, and 
 freebooters of every sort, had of late begun to 
 congregate in great numbers ; and it was to enable 
 him to act with vigour in suppressing these, that 
 Lord Piercy, who was still his superior, had pro- 
 mised to strengthen the force in the Castle with 
 part of the troops sent along with the supply of 
 provisions. The elder Heselrig had already de- 
 parted for Northumberland ; and what he had long 
 panted for — absolute and uncontrolled freedom in 
 his actions — seemed now in the power of his son. 
 
 Notwithstanding the necessary attention to his 
 new duties, he found time to wait on his captive ; 
 and on the way to her apartment, his fertile brain 
 was busy in devising schemes and devices of every 
 sort to lull suspicion, and dispose her to re- 
 gard him favourably. Previously to visiting her, 
 he had directed a supply of every article of cloth- 
 ing she might require to be carried to the apart-
 
 320 
 
 ments. The attendants were enjoined to treat her 
 with all the respect due to a noble lady, and they 
 were strictly charged to provide every thing she 
 should ask for ; whilst he himself resolved to be- 
 have as if he was the most unfortunate of all men, 
 in being selected for the odious task of her guar- 
 dian, or jailor, as she would call the office. He 
 adorned his person, too, in order to make him 
 worthy to wait on such a guest. Heselrig's fea- 
 tures were harsh and forbidding, rendered so, per- 
 haps, more by the expression than the structure 
 of them, which was peculiarly disagreeable, and 
 seemed to those who knew him, to be the inner 
 man looking out precisely. He was clad in a 
 doublet and cloak of purple velvet, ornamented in 
 various ways, light hose, and boots of a colour to 
 suit his upper vestments, as was also a jewelled 
 cap, that dangled in his hand as he entered. 
 
 The lady was standing at the casement when he 
 made his appearance, bowing low. She turned 
 round with much composure, and looked fixedly at 
 him, without returning his salutation. 
 
 " Fair Lady," began the Knight, " let me hope
 
 321 
 
 that thy comfort is attended to in all things by 
 my people." 
 
 " One who hath made the greenwood her home, 
 doth care little for what thou mayest call com- 
 forts," replied she. 
 
 " Yet, methinks, that soiled dress might have 
 been changed. Lady ; it doth not become thy place 
 and dignity." 
 
 "Place!" cried she with scorn; "what place 
 have I, when such as thou canst invade it with im- 
 punity ? " 
 
 " Nay, not I, but my Lord." 
 
 " And who is he 1 some robber chief?" 
 
 The maiden stood trembling near her lady, re- 
 garding Heselrig with awe, and a sort of horror ; 
 and when she heard her youthful mistress thus ad- 
 dressing him, she became so dreadfully alarmed, as 
 to lose all self-possession. 
 
 " Oh, Lady Marion !" cried she ; " in the name 
 of the Holy Virgin, speak not that way. Remem- 
 ber who he is — what he is" — And she fell at 
 Heselrig's feet with clasped hands. 
 
 " Have pity on us ! she is so young, so help- 
 
 o 2
 
 322 
 
 less. Pity iis, mighty lord !" continued the poor 
 creature. 
 
 " Fear not," said Heselrig, what hath frighten- 
 ed thee so. poor timorous maiden 1 there is nought 
 to alarm thee. Thy attendant, lady, doth lack 
 some of thy spirit ; the poor thing is even afraid 
 of a shadow." These words w^re spoken in the 
 most hiand tones, as he raised the waiting-woman 
 from the floor, Marion looking on him with a calm 
 yet doubtful air. 
 
 " Still thee, Dora ; what dost thou fear, silly 
 creature. There is nothing in this Knight to 
 wake thy foolish terror." 
 
 Dora shrank into a corner, and offered no more 
 interruption. 
 
 " Lady/' said Heselrig, smiling, " thy poor 
 follower hath heard tales of faitour knights and 
 bloody castles in her own hills, and she doth fancy 
 every one to be such as minstrel tales have told 
 her." 
 
 " I doubt not she hath heard of faitour knights, 
 as thou dost say ; but wherefore should she sus- 
 pect thee, valiant champion, who art only forcibly
 
 32; 
 
 seizing helpless women to pleasure tliy lord, who- 
 ever he may be." 
 
 " Even the mighty Goyernor of the West, Lord 
 Piercy." 
 
 " What ! the Piercy — he whom men call the 
 proud, the chivalrous Piercy 1 I will not believe it," 
 cried the damsel, with flashing eye. " Wouldst tell 
 me that he, a great ruler in the land, would set 
 the example of rapine and violence, within his own 
 bounds, and furnish his followers with an excuse 
 for every crime ? Think not I am a child, and 
 untaught. Heselrig, thou wilt find me other- 
 wise !" 
 
 " Alas ! what can I say T' replied he. " My 
 unfortunate position, in regard to him, is exactly 
 his in regard to his King. I must obey, or forfeit 
 place and possession. He must carry into effect 
 the orders of Edward, however stern and severe, 
 or lose high place and power. Thou knowcst a 
 great lord is absolute over his vassals ; such is the 
 Piercy with me. That a king, of power so vast as 
 Edward, hath command as absolute over his prince- 
 ly vassals, as the latter over their knights and
 
 324 
 
 esquires, what then remains for each but obe- 
 dience ?" 
 
 '' A freeborn spirit would seek the wilderness, 
 ere bend to such tyranny," replied she, " suppos- 
 ing it were as thou sayest." Heselrig shook his 
 head. 
 
 " As the world is constituted, men must conform 
 to its ways, or seek, as thou hast said, the parts 
 afar from human habitation ; but few there are 
 who would choose the latter." 
 
 " Freedom, then, is dead in thy land as in mine ; 
 and two nations are prostrate before the throne of 
 a bloodthirsty and ambitious tyrant !" 
 
 " I may not say so, gentle maid," replied Hesel- 
 rig with a soft smile. 
 
 " I care not what thou dost say ; tell me how 
 long I am to be captive here." 
 
 " The pleasure of my Lord regarding his fair 
 charge, so he doth esteem mine honoured guest as 
 a ward of the Crown, shall be known in two days." 
 
 " A ward of the Crown ! How can that be, Sir 
 Knight ? my father never was subject of thy King." 
 
 ^^ I know not, lady, whether thy sire hath paid
 
 325 
 
 homage to Edward ; but thy lands hold of the 
 Crown, and so" 
 
 " But not of the English crown, Southron? Yet 
 let that pass until a better time ; all is at the mercy 
 of that crown now. Then must I content myself 
 for two days in this hostile fortress." 
 
 " Let me entreat thee to consider it other than 
 hostile. All here are devoted to thy service ; and 
 so entreating, fair lady, I take my leave." 
 
 Bowing low, he withdrew, more deeply impressed 
 than ever with the extraordinary shrewdness and 
 knowledge of the world possessed by one so very 
 young. Little did he know of her early nurture, 
 and the subsequent advantages she enjoyed in her 
 constant intercourse with her uncle. " This gear 
 will be difficult to manage," thought he, as he left 
 her. She doth suspect me, and I fear she doth 
 not like me either." But when he descended to 
 the great hall, he had other matters to attend to, 
 rumom*s having reached the garrison of a battle 
 fought near Loudon, between a strong band of 
 outlaws and the Southron troops on the way to 
 Lanark.
 
 326 
 
 Marion mused long after the departure of He- 
 selrig. Her attendant at length roused her from 
 her reverie by a deep sigh, or rather groan, given 
 vent to apparently as an indication of the relief she 
 experienced from the Knight's absence. 
 
 " Thou art a great coward, Dora," said the lady 
 with a sweet smile, her natural, artless, and inno- 
 cent manner returning at once. 
 
 " Lady, that fearful man ! I tremble but to 
 look on him." 
 
 " So, indeed, thou dost ; but wherefore ]" 
 
 " The tales we have heard; his own visage," 
 replied the waiting gentlewoman, " are enough to 
 scare the boldest ; but surely woman was never 
 before like thee." 
 
 " Man must be villain indeed to maltreat one 
 like me, so young in years, so defenceless ; it would 
 be like an armed warrior murdering an infant. Yet 
 thou mayest be right, my Dora, though I cannot 
 see how we are to improve our condition by woman- 
 ly wailing ; trust me, a nature like this Heselrig's 
 is to be more affected by courage than timidity." 
 
 '* It may be so. Lady ; but the marvel is, how
 
 327 
 
 thou canst be bold when it is proper to be so. I 
 am neither more timid nor courageous than other 
 women ; but Mary help me ! I would die sooner than 
 talk to this Knight as thou dost." 
 
 " Why, it is but loss of life," replied Marion, 
 partly as if speaking to herself. 
 
 " Nay, sweet Lady," replied Dora, " it is more, 
 far more." 
 
 " Not more ! " replied Marion, " not more ! by 
 all the saints of Heaven ! May the oath be for- 
 given, and the deed if necessary." 
 
 So saying, she put her hand, as if to feel it was 
 safe and in its place, on the hilt of a small dagger 
 which she wore concealed under her kirtle, in such 
 a manner that she could grasp it instantly. Dora 
 shuddered at the action, and covered her eyes. 
 Marion looked with compassionating surprise on 
 her attendant. 
 
 " Surely," said she, " thy life hath been passed 
 amid peaceful and domestic scenes, and far from 
 these broils and tumults which occur daily among 
 men." 
 
 *' Truly, Lady," replied Dora, " my fate hath
 
 328 
 
 been to live among hills remote from the abodes 
 of men, for, since I was seven years old, my home 
 hath been the mountain and the moor, where, 
 though want hath often pinched us, war and bloody 
 deeds were unknown." 
 
 " Happy, happy, had it been for me if I had 
 never known any resting-place but the quiet vale 
 of Afton ! But my short life had been spent in 
 strife and bloodshed before I found that quiet re- 
 treat. Feudal hate — the lust of midnight plunderer 
 — left me a helpless orphan." 
 
 " I know the sad tale, dear Lady ; and rest as- 
 sured that, though you had more courageous 
 maidens near the Moffat hills, thou hadst none 
 that loved thee more." 
 
 " Well do I believe it, dear Dora ; thou hast shewn 
 thy great affection in a thousand ways, and thou 
 hast been to me, since I went to Cumnock, my faith- 
 ful and kind friend." 
 
 " I would I were bolder — and an outlaw's child 
 should be so ; but perhaps, dear Lady, I may 
 acquire courage, for yet I have never needed it till 
 this time."
 
 329 
 
 *' Mayhap tlioii wilt," replied Marion, with a 
 smile. " We are hoth young, for I think thou canst 
 not number three more years than I ; and never 
 had women more necessity for haying their resolu- 
 tion and their wits about them ! My poor uncle ! 
 Alas ! alas ! he will wail for me even more than he 
 who must be now deeply engaged in the cause of 
 his country ; but the mishap will be dreadful to 
 both, and I tremble to think of it, far more than 
 the presence of a thousand Heselrigs could cause 
 me to do." 
 
 She sat down and mused silently, the tears fall- 
 ing fast over her cheeks. After a long pause, — 
 " Could we but find one man who is a friend," said 
 Dora, " they will discover us ! Doubt it not, 
 maiden, Scotland has not a place so hidden but true 
 love will find it out ! " 
 
 " A friend on this dreary pile, natheless, would 
 be of use in letting others know where we are. 
 Lady, the countenance of this Lord, Knight, or 
 Sheriff, whatever he be called, is like the cloud 
 that covers the peak of Cairnsmuir when thunder 
 is about to roll : it hath that in it which maketh
 
 330 
 
 one tremble to look upon ! Yet he was cour- 
 teous !" 
 
 " Thou hast penetration with thy simplicity, 
 Dora. I know this man. He hath cast his eye 
 on my possessions, and he hath resolved to play 
 the kind host — albeit the lying one — in hopes that 
 he may win my favour. Thus we are safe for a 
 short space ; but when the truth is told, the wolf, 
 whose prey is reft from him, will not be more 
 savage or more remorseless. My hope is, that 
 AYallace, whose bold heart and scheming head are 
 fit for any device and any enterprise, will find us 
 out, and obtain our freedom, before our gaoler 
 hath discovered my secret. Oh ! what would 
 I give for intelligence of him, and of mine 
 uncle ! Methinks all my own misery would vanish 
 then." 
 
 " Perhaps we may learn something from the 
 menials. They may be civil to us ; at least I am 
 sure the man behind whom I rode, though a 
 Southron, was a well-spoken, kind man, as much 
 as he dared to be." 
 
 '* I believe they are too good for him they serve,
 
 331 
 
 but they dare not disobey his orders ; and I 
 fear he will not let them converse much with 
 us." 
 
 " With permission, I will try," said Dora, her 
 spirits reviving with this conversation. 
 
 The acute mind of Marion had at once detected 
 the hypocrisy of Heselrig ; and his change of man- 
 ner from the gay libertine, which he openly shewed 
 himself to be on his first interview with her, to the 
 respectful and gallant Knight in presence of fair 
 lady, did not fail to meet with due interpretation. 
 She now felt anxious to impart some of her cou- 
 rage to her companion in captivity, for her timidity 
 rendered her both miserable and useless. 
 
 Perhaps the terror of the one was less surpris- 
 ing than the composure of the other under all the 
 circumstances ; for in the short time he had been 
 in the western districts, Heselrig had established a 
 very odious reputation among the native population, 
 not only as a person recklessly libertine in his pur- 
 suits, but entirely regardless of the feelings, interests, 
 or even lives of those who came under his mercy; and 
 it was fully expected, that the unfortunate people
 
 332 
 
 of the district, which was now to he immediately 
 subject to his rule, would experience in an increased 
 degree, corresponding to the distance he was re- 
 moved from the surveillance of his lord, the naturtil 
 bent of disposition. In the meantime, he began to 
 imagine that his government was not to be one 
 of ease and indulgence, as he anticipated, for the 
 rumours of a battle fought with Wallace came 
 thicker and faster, with more of truth and circum- 
 stance in every fresh report. 
 
 And while he was pondering over them, and 
 waiting anxiously for definite information, he was 
 roused by an alarm from another quarter ; a de- 
 tachment he had despatched early in the morning, 
 as he was resolved to lose no time in shewing his 
 zeal to learn further tidings regarding the out- 
 laws, who had harassed those who were favour- 
 able to the English near Lesmahagow, returned in 
 great disorder about noon, having fallen in with a 
 number of wild men, in strange attire, who attacked 
 them like fiends. 
 
 '' AA'ild men !" thought he, " can they have crossed 
 over so soon 1 Didst thou observe any cognisance
 
 333 
 
 among them, Folkliam V enquired he of the 'Squire 
 ■who commanded the party ; " their Chief bore on 
 his shield a hooded hawk, which was the only 
 bearing or distinguishing sign among them." 
 " Strange! fought they well these savages?" 
 " Desperately, my Lord ; and hut that we were 
 mounted, we had fared badly, for they outnumbered 
 my small force much." 
 
 " Yet he cannot hare very many with him, 
 Folkham. I know this man, it is of vast importance 
 to me that he should be made captive, and he who 
 takes him shall be rewarded beyond expectation." 
 " AVe must talk again of this ; but while the 
 people are distracted with these infernal tales of 
 that villain outlaw on the other side, we must 
 think of nothing else. Heardst thou aught of him ? 
 — this Wallace I mean ?" 
 
 " Nothing, save what hath already reached the 
 Castle. Men say, besides, that the Black Knight 
 of Douglasdale is about to betake himself to the 
 greenwood also. And, by my faith, if Wallace 
 doth discomfit Fenwick, we shall have work beyond 
 our means iu this neighbourhood, where our un-
 
 334 
 
 friends are many, and our adherents hut luke- 
 warm." 
 
 " Well, we must be stirring an need be ; to thee 
 I trust, as long in the place, for knowledge regard- 
 ing the people.'* 
 
 When left alone, Heselrig muttered to himself, 
 " I must have this crazy kinsman of hers in my 
 power ; then shall I be armed in all ways. If she 
 will not yield to fair treatment and honied words, 
 why then, the threat of the rack or the gibbet for 
 Angus of Cumnock, will serve my turn ; and if 
 it do not, he hath richly earned that doom as 
 traitor to Edward and enemy to me." He rubbed 
 his hands in joyful anticipation, and then his cogi- 
 tations took another turn. 
 
 " The Governor must be hoodwinked, and 
 luckily those moss-trooping Jardines make that 
 task easy. The story I invented of the dead 
 Birnok's brother being about to claim his bride 
 for himself, as part of his inheritance, hath 
 gained credence every where. What need then, 
 but I improve it with another tale, of an actual 
 attempt made by the lawless youth, which, though
 
 335 
 
 defeated, caused me to take the precaution of 
 lodging the lady of Lammington in my Castle, for 
 it is evident she cannot enjoy security unless under 
 powerful protection." 
 
 He then once more congratulated himself on his 
 improving prospects, and proceeded to discharge 
 the functions of his office. 
 
 Angus, fully aware that his haunts in Afton 
 were no longer safe from the attempts of the 
 Governor, set out on the very afternoon on which 
 his niece had been carried off, with the double 
 object of finding some new spot in the wilderness 
 where he might pitch his tent, and of gaining tid- 
 ings of the lost one. He guessed, accurately enough, 
 the course of Heselrig, and he was able to trace 
 him, by the footprints of his horses, through the 
 wild district where Muirkirk now stands, and down 
 the pass into Lanarkshire. Being well acquainted 
 with the quarter, he struck across the hills, near 
 Glenbuck, towards the remote district of Lesma- 
 hago, resolved to select a suitable place there, 
 whence he could sally forth to make inquiries re- 
 garding the inmates of Lanark Castle, in which, he
 
 336 
 
 doubted not, his kinswoman was immured, and it was 
 while yet occupied in finding a proper locality, that 
 he fell in with the horsemen of Folkham. The 
 sight of them inflamed his somewhat disordered 
 mind, and, with little consideration, he urged on 
 his rude followers to the attack. Luckily, there 
 was a precipitous and rough eminence near, almost 
 inaccessible to horses, which they fell back upon, 
 after discharging a shower of arrows at the South- 
 rons. Here they easily defended themselves, and 
 repulsed the attack. This success induced him to 
 fortify by felled trees, and such other means as 
 were in his power, this hill, for he believed his own 
 small band able to cope with a much larger force 
 if not mounted ; and it was in the neighbourhood 
 of Lanark, and also most likely of Wallace, who, 
 he knew, if he was successful, would select the 
 woods on one side of Lanark as a good central 
 position for his purpose. But before doing this, 
 he despatched two of his men, who were most in- 
 telligent, and who understood the Saxon tongue, 
 to that town, in quest of such information as they 
 could obtain there ; and he was provided plenti-
 
 337 
 
 fully with disguises for occasions of the sort. Tii 
 the meantime he was racked with anxiety about 
 Marion, as well as panting for news of the affair 
 at Allanton; but he had yet another object in 
 view in settlino- in that neidibourhood. 
 
 He had long been aware, from the constant com- 
 munication kept up by various bands of outlaws 
 scattered over the country, that this locality was 
 the favourite resort of a great many, and that, 
 being in the centre of a district, the barons 
 and landowners of which were suspected of being 
 more than usually averse to Southron domination, 
 it was among the best that could be chosen for 
 those operations which Wallace was conducting, 
 and which he desired to aid to the utmost of his 
 power. Thus, in making a rude fortress in the 
 middle of the forest, he calculated on its being a 
 central point, where the several bands, then in pos- 
 session of the woods, would be drawn together, 
 and where they might meet to arrange their plans 
 and hold consultations on any emergency. In fact, 
 he knew that the eyes of the country were now di- 
 rected to Wallace ; and if he succeeded in the at-
 
 338 
 
 tempt he was now making, the greenwood would 
 swarm with malcontents of a higher class than 
 that which had hitherto occupied it, and which in- 
 deed consisted, almost entirely, of oppressed and 
 outraged burghers, yeomen, and serfs, who had been 
 driven by hard usage beyond the limits of human 
 endurance, to attempt any thing, however despe- 
 rate, to better their condition. The barons felt 
 their own injuries as deeply, but having more to 
 lose, and knowing well the great power of Edward 
 of England, they would not engage in any rising 
 which did not afford another prospect than that of 
 increasing their present sufferings, by making their 
 burthens heavier and more intolerable, as had al- 
 ready happened more than once.
 
 339 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 True was It sajd, whatever man it sayd, 
 That love with gall and honey doth abound, 
 And if the one be with the other welgh'd ; 
 For every dram of honey therein found, 
 A pound of gall doth over it redound. 
 
 Spensee. 
 
 CoRMACK, waiting till the moon was up, 
 set out as commanded for the residence of his 
 old friend, Simon of Hilton, but the pain of hie 
 wound rendered his progress so slow, that the 
 dawn was appearing over the hills to the east, ere 
 he reached his destination, and the menials of the 
 place were beginning to move about, preparatory 
 to their daily occupation. The sound of the horses' 
 feet soon brought down Simon in person, who eyed in 
 silence, and in considerable doubt, the person of the 
 stranger, as it appeared in the grey twilight of the 
 morning.
 
 340 
 
 "I bid you good morrow, Master of Hilton," 
 said Cormack, in rather feeble tones ; " wilt thou 
 receive an old friend, who doth lack thy helping 
 hand V 
 
 " Help, to one who deserved it, was never asked 
 in vain here," replied Simon doubtfully ; " but I 
 know thee not — whence art thou, stranger 1 " 
 
 " Even from a fair field of fight, where my luck 
 hath been to catch a spear point in my jack," said 
 Cormacky amused by the perplexity his friend ex- 
 hibited. 
 
 " Some southern loon," muttered Simon under 
 his beard, " who hath gotten a skelp at Allanton — 
 Humph ! fair sir ! there be many unfriends of estab- 
 lished rule abroad in these perilous times. I may 
 not let you in, till I know you better." 
 
 " Canst thou not remember me, goodman T' 
 
 " By my faith, no, for I cannot see thy face ; but 
 the voice is not strange to me either." Thus speak- 
 ing, he approaclied close to Cormack, peering into 
 his face, then started back in astonishment. 
 
 '- St Mary of Kyle ! Can it be — art thou my 
 friend Cormack V
 
 341 
 
 " Eyen so, goodman." 
 
 Instantly Simon's voice was exalted for help, 
 and ere it arrived, he whispered, " Hide thy 
 visage ; thou must have another name here. We 
 have heard, and God he praised for it ! of Allan- 
 ton fight." 
 
 " And what news from Carrick, good friend?" 
 continued he, as some of his men appeared, and 
 assisted Cormack to dismount. " So ! gently ! this 
 ague is a severe handler, but we shall soon make 
 you well here." 
 
 He was safely lodged in the guest's room of 
 the small tenement; and Simon bustled around 
 him, with great assiduity, until he had been duly 
 refreshed, and advised to repose, for an hour or two, 
 till he had recovered from his fatigue. Leaving 
 him thus alone, with his own curiosity ungratified, 
 was a token of Simon's general kindness of dispo- 
 sition, and his especial regard for Cormack. He 
 went immediately to seek out his daughter, whom 
 the unusual bustle had also roused at that early 
 hour. 
 
 It must be here observed, that Cormack had
 
 342 
 
 found occasion, while on tlio varion? missions in 
 Miiicli lie -was employed by Wallace, to pay sundry 
 visits to Hilton ; whether to cultivate, more par- 
 ticularly, the acquaintance of Simon or of his 
 daughter, we shall not say : hut it is certain the 
 former never doubted that the visits were all de- 
 signed for him. and as marks of the youth's gra- 
 titude for the kindness be had sliewn him. in train- 
 ing him to the use of arms. He could not ima- 
 gine that a shive-born lad would pi-esume to raise 
 his eyes to the only child of a substantial yeonmn, 
 whose sires had on more than one occasion taken 
 their wives from tlie families of the smaller gentry : 
 and. being naturally slow of apprehension, he could 
 not perceive any thing between the young people 
 which betokened aught but respectful duty on the 
 one part, and the kindness of the mistress of a 
 house on the other. "When he bluntly announced 
 who the strauii'er was, she felt a heat suddenly 
 risino- in her fi\ce. which caused her to stoop to- 
 wards the floor, and when she rose upright, it had 
 disappeared. 
 
 '-' And, good father, T pray you, why doth the
 
 343 
 
 long-legged hallanshaker come here to run thy 
 lands and thy life in danger T' 
 
 Simon stared at this question. 
 
 " Thou wouldst not send the poor lad away in 
 that condition ; wouldst thou, child T' 
 
 " Marry come up !" cried she, with an indig- 
 nant toss of her head. " Is there no place but 
 Hilton for all the riflf-raflf, who take to forest 
 and to robbery, to escape wholesome labour ? I 
 wot not why William Wallace doth not keep and 
 tend all the broken men about him, since he will 
 gather such together, when they chance to get 
 hurt in his seryice T' 
 
 " Why, lass, thou art surely fey this morning ! 
 It was only yesterday thou didst rejoice more 
 than I at the news of this fight," said Simon, in 
 increasing surprise. 
 
 *' Ay, truly," replied she, snappishly ; *' it is 
 Tery well to be glad when one doth hear of the 
 Southron oppressor being worsted ; and it is well, 
 too, to be alarmeil when our necks are near a 
 halter. What will our lord say to all this ? Will 
 he not be wroth because of our imprudence ?"
 
 344 
 
 Simon^s anger now rose. " Hark'ye, yonng mis- 
 tress, this house is my own ; and, not for twenty 
 barons A^ould I drive away a hurt friend, who doth 
 need succour so much, from my door. Keep thy- 
 self quiet, and do not provoke me farther; and 
 when the youth hath rested, thou must be ready 
 with proper dressing for his hurts.*' 
 
 Whether the anger of the maiden was driven ofif 
 by that of her father, or whether, in point of fact, 
 she had not succeeded in emitting from him the 
 very declaration she wanted, which implies also 
 that her wrath was feigned, we shall not pretend 
 to determine; but, after a pause, she resumed 
 the conversation in a more temperate and pla- 
 cable tone — " But what wilt thou do, father 1 I 
 say not it is wrong, but doubtless there is danger 
 in it." 
 
 " Nay, child," replied Simon ; " it may be as 
 thou sayest, but truly I did not think of anything 
 except aiding a good lad, who had fought bravely, 
 as all say, and who is, moreover, chosen henchman 
 to our young champion. Thou wouldst have done
 
 345 
 
 so thyself, on the instant, thou sancy one, with all 
 thy wisdom." 
 
 " Well ! but," said she, evading the last re- 
 mark, " what is to be done to guard against evil ]" 
 
 Simon raised his bonnet, and scratched his 
 head, looking at her the while, as if he expected 
 she would suggest something ; but she remained 
 silent. " Plague on it, wilt not speak ? Thou 
 hast a sharper brain than mine, which was never 
 very bright at a pinch. 
 
 " I think our lord will have reason to believe 
 that thou art not acting properly, if thou dost keep 
 this young man here without his knowledge." 
 
 " That is just what I thought," answered Simon; 
 " and as I always consult him, I believe the best 
 thing I can do is to take his advice in this also ; 
 but I shall not turn away the lad." 
 
 " He will not desire thee to do so, father ; he is 
 a kind man, and my lady too would favour Cor- 
 mack in every way." 
 
 " Tt is but little she can know of a poor man 
 
 like him," said Simon ; " but she is a good and a 
 
 kind ladv, certainlv. Well, when he is awake, I 
 
 p2
 
 346 
 
 shall converse with him, and learn all ahont the 
 fight, that I may tell them at the Castle ; but truly 
 it is needless, for I jalouse there are some in it 
 who know as well as Cormack about the business." 
 So saying, Simon cast a sly look on his daughter, 
 and, shaking his head, left the room. 
 
 In about two hours afterwards he entered the 
 apartment of the invalid, and found him just get- 
 ting out of the hands of his daughter, and one of 
 her maidens, who had poured the healing bal- 
 sam into his wound, and bound it up. " And how 
 far'st thou now,lad^ Aha ! thou hast a better look.'^ 
 
 " Altogether better ; thanks to you and the 
 kind mistress here." 
 
 " In troth, thou lookest bravely. What sayest 
 thou, lass, is it much '? " 
 
 •' Not so wide nor so deep as your plough-furrow, 
 father. Yet it is a gallantish scratch too," replied 
 the daughter. 
 
 " Pooh ! I warrant me Cormack would heed lit- 
 tle a dozen such." 
 
 " Nay, master," said the attending maiden, 
 ** my mistress thinks
 
 347 
 
 '' Hold thy tongue, Agnes ; mind not what I 
 think," cried Alice impatiently. " "We must now 
 leave them to fight over again the battle of Allan- 
 ton." And she and her attendant left the room. 
 
 Cormack sat up, and declared himself almost 
 recovered, 
 
 " Then thou art strong enough to go over with 
 me the particulars of this little hruilzie with the 
 Southrons ? " asked Simon. 
 
 " Most able and willing," replied Cormack ; and 
 without farther preface, he began the story of the 
 fight, and went through it as it has been narrated, 
 with the exception of an occasional exclamation of 
 surprise at the wonderful prowess of his master, 
 which he averred to surpass any thing that had 
 ever been seen before. 
 
 " A sharp stramash ! a very sharp stramash ! " 
 said Simon, a little tinge of jealousy influencing 
 him ; " but thou must not think, lad, that a tuilzie 
 like it is to be compared with such breaking of 
 spears and crushing of helmets, as I have seen." 
 
 " Hadst thoit seen our Chief, thou wouldst say 
 that no crushing of helmets was ever done more
 
 348 
 
 felly — no spears ever more manfully splinter- 
 ed." 
 
 " I doubt it not, lad ; I doubt it not," said 
 Simon, really delighted to hear of his favourite's 
 deeds ; " and he laid well on the thieves, eh ? " 
 
 " Thou wouldst have thought there was no other 
 man to wield a Scottish weapon, so ready was he 
 every where. And when that doughty Fen wick 
 broke in on the schiltron, he stood in against him 
 and his men-at-arms, maintaining the fight till the 
 other schiltron came up, and the men of the first 
 re-formed in it, almost alone." 
 
 " St Andrew ! " continued Corraack, his eye 
 lightening at the recollection, " there was a sight 
 seldom witnessed in any wars you have seen, Si- 
 mon of Hilton ; a single spearman on foot, op- 
 posed to a host, the lances crashing on his side, the 
 swords ringing on his helmet, and his own spear, 
 at every push almost, dismounting a man. I cried 
 out, Wallace ! Wallace ! as lustily as I could, 
 for my place was just behind him ; and one of them 
 charged me in such a manner, that my jack had 
 been poor fence; but my stout master saw him
 
 349 
 
 and with a side thrust sent him to the ground, as 
 he passed, then jumping on his horse, he ran at 
 Fenwick; hut they were separated then in the 
 melee. It was not long before they met again, 
 and Sir Fenwick bit the dust." 
 
 "Well done! well done," cried Simon, in ex- 
 ultation, " that is the best of it ; go on, lad ; go 
 on." 
 
 *' Then he turned his horse loose, and quietly 
 took his place in the schiltron again ; but in all the 
 fight, no good action escaped him, and his word of 
 praise was ever ready — ' Ha ! good lance ! ' he 
 would cry, when one of our few horsemen struck 
 down a Southron man-at-arms ; ' and well pushed,' 
 when a spearman did the same. But there were 
 no strokes in the field like his own. Beaumont 
 came after Fenwick, in command of the Southrons, 
 and seeing my lord fighting in the second rank as 
 if all depended on him, he ran at him furiously, 
 and he stood like a rock, minding the crashing 
 lance no more than a bulrush. But it was different 
 with the other, for my master's spear went through
 
 his breastplate as an it were a plaid, and came ont 
 a handsbreath at his back." 
 
 " Brave youth ! glorious warrior ! " cried Simon 
 in ecstasy, " how this will thrill through the very 
 marrow of his Loudon kinsmen. There is not a 
 man who does not grumble at being kept from this 
 fight, not one ! Even I myself, albeit used to fight- 
 ing for forty years, told Sir Ranald that I felt 
 ashamed ; and he was pleased to say I was not 
 over wise. It may be, the phrase was somewhat 
 harsher; but if I am a fool, I guess he is no better, 
 for I think he had also a hankering after his ne- 
 phew. Yet there were some of us there ; this thou 
 wettest of Cormack." This last observation was 
 accompanied by a wink and a lowering of the 
 voice — 
 
 " Truly, I suspected as much ; but they were 
 all cased in armour, that is to say, the few 
 men-at-arms we had ; but I detected some voices 
 that I was well assured did belong to Crawfords ; 
 and my valiant master nearly revealed one of 
 them. In a charge, our horsemen were mingled 
 in front of the schiltron with the Southron ; and
 
 351 
 
 a young man-at-arms, shouting Wallace with all 
 his might, tilted at a Southron just before us, and 
 tumbled him from his horse." 
 
 '* Good lance ! hare a care, Childe 1 " cried my 
 master hastily, on seeing another coming upon the 
 conqueror unawares. Doubtless, at the moment, 
 he was surprised out of his usual prudence ; it 
 saved young Torringan, however, for he it must 
 have been ; at least, I know no other of his ac- 
 quaintance who is called " Childe." 
 
 " And a brave gallant it is too," said Simon, 
 who was now rubbing his hands, and pacing the 
 apartment in all the glee of a boy who had suc- 
 ceeded in some frolic. " Thou shalt know when I 
 return who w^ere there. I must tell my good Lord 
 of our guest, and, I doubt not, he will be glad to 
 hear of thee ; albeit there may be risk in harbour- 
 ing one who hath been with Wallace at Allanton, 
 for he hath faith in my prudence." 
 
 " Loth w^as I to endanger thee and thine," said 
 Cormack ; " but it pleased my master to command 
 it, so that I could not refuse." 
 
 *' And it doth shew the great value he sets on
 
 352 
 
 thee," said Simon, who had penetration enough to 
 perceive that Wallace would not send any one there 
 whom he could not trust. 
 
 Scarcely had Simon departed for the Castle when 
 Alice found her way back to the chamber of her 
 patient, and was soon engaged in a serious and 
 confidential conversation with him. 
 
 " Alas !" exclaimed she, " the good, kind-heart- 
 ed lady! And what thinkst thou, dear Cormack, 
 hath been her hap 1 what dost thou surmise V 
 
 " I can guess," replied Cormack ; " that foul 
 Knight had his own evil purposes ; but T doubt 
 not, when he finds of what a spirit she is, he will 
 think of his Lord's advice, and of the damsel's 
 broad lands ; and then, for she doth abhor him. 
 and will not conceal it, he may devise practices to 
 bring about a marriage, that he may possess 
 them." 
 
 " And where hath he bestowed her ?" 
 
 " In Lanark, without doubt, or some stronghold 
 near, in Southron hands, where he may practise on 
 her with impunity."
 
 353 
 
 " that I were near, Cormack, to aid and sup- 
 port her." 
 
 " It is kind of thee, dear Alice ; but what could 
 a feeble girl do there 1 She doth not lack courage ; 
 do not think so ; she is the bravest damsel man 
 e'er saw. Thou dost think thyself bold now, but if 
 thou didst see her in danger, thou wouldst believe 
 thyself to be a very coward." 
 
 " Yet thou knowest I am not easily frightened," 
 replied she, smiling. 
 
 " Thou art extremely bold with thy father, and 
 it may be with some one else," answered Cormack ; 
 " but doth not thy heart sink, and thy cheek turn 
 pale, when thou art in the Southron s hands 'i ay, by 
 my sooth, like a partridge in the falcon's talons." 
 
 " How dost thou know that V 
 
 " Why, my own good lord told me how thou 
 didst look when he released thee at Riccarton 
 Bridge ; but I like thee all the better for it, dear 
 Alice ; I myself wish to be thought the bold one of 
 the two." 
 
 " dear, I am sure I need courage if I have it 
 not, for we are but poorly sted, my friend, since
 
 354 
 
 thou wilt haye us as one. It is true, I believe, that 
 thou sayest ; for even when I am sauciest with the 
 Goodman of Hilton, there is a sort of heating in 
 my breast that doth plague me sadly. He doth 
 not suspect any thing, Cormack ; and he is surely 
 the slowest to uptake what is going on, of any man 
 I ever saw." 
 
 " I would not that he should, until I have ac- 
 quired a name that will gild the lowliness of my 
 origin, for thou seest, Alice, I am not insensible 
 to the advantage thou hast over me in that respect. 
 Thou art of free ancestry, I the son of a line of 
 slaves." 
 
 *' I heed it not, for even under the silken 
 doublets of our knights and 'squires, I see little so 
 noble as in thee. Thy courage is equal to theirs ; 
 thy parts and acquirements much superior to the 
 majority of them ; and I know thee and them so 
 well, that I can declare thee to be in all respects 
 above them, save one." 
 
 " And that is everything in their estimation. 
 Doth not the gentle 'squire despise my scholar cj aft 
 as beneath the dignity of a gentleman ? And doth
 
 355 
 
 not the latter consist entirely in birth 1 In a lower 
 grade, extraction is still looked to, therefore do I 
 not blame thy worthy father in keeping up, as he 
 doth say, his estate of yeomanry free from servile 
 stain, such as that which a slave-born man would 
 bring on the race.*' 
 
 " Thou dost think of every one before thyself," 
 said the maiden, with a sigh, " but it is like thee. 
 Thou wouldst not be Cormack an thou didst not. 
 Such a man as William Wallace would not love thee 
 and trust thee as he doth if thou wert not alto- 
 gether of different mould from other men." 
 
 " Thou dost speak fondly, dear Alice," replied 
 Cormack, smiling, " and I hope thou wilt never 
 have reason to be ashamed of me." 
 
 " Ashamed of thee ! when all men are so loud 
 in thy praise ! Thou art the only one who doth 
 not seem to know the worth and the valour of Cor- 
 mack the henchman." 
 
 " I pray thee cease, thou wilt make me vain. 
 Wait till those qualities have raised me, so that I 
 may aspire to thee, and 1 shall allow thee to talk 
 so of me."
 
 356 
 
 " AYc41, AYell," replied she, " thou art as open as 
 thou art honest. Another and more crafty suitor 
 would tell me I myself am not a person of any 
 birth or consideration, and cast ridicule on my 
 father's whims. Thou mayest think I delight in 
 teasing him, yet it is not so. I can smile at his 
 peculiarities, but no daughter doth love father 
 better than I do, as thou well knowest, and it 
 would ill become me to give him pain. Therefore 
 must you wait, my friend, and console thyself with 
 the plighted troth thou hast in word if not in deed. 
 I shall never wed other than thee." 
 
 " I believe and trust thee, Alice, as I would one 
 of our holy apostles, were he to appear on earth," 
 said Cormack, with much earnestness. There was 
 an honest simplicity about him, and an innocent 
 maiden frankness about her, apparent in the looks 
 of each, which gave the impress of truth to all 
 they said ; and they had in one another the most 
 perfect confidence. 
 
 Thus their secret and inmost thoughts were, on 
 all points, freely revealed to each other. Cormack, 
 on this occasion, had been declaring the extreme
 
 357 
 
 anxiety he felt regarding the fate of the lady 
 Marion, and his ardent desire to be ^vell soon, that 
 he might assist in the search, and perhaps in the 
 liberation of her. And Alice had assured him, 
 that in a week, although his wound could not be 
 healed, he would be sufficiently well to enffa^e in 
 the enterprise. " She will suffer more on account 
 of others than herself, I know," said Cormack, 
 " for her mind is altogether superior to that of 
 ordinary mortals. If thou hadst seen, my Alice, 
 how she tended, like the most patient and tender 
 nurse, her poor brainsick uncle, and wept over him 
 in his affliction, thou wouldst have believed her to 
 be formed for the gentlest and most delicate offices 
 of domestic life ; and then, if thou hadst heard the 
 tales men tell of her courage in difficulty, thou 
 shouldst imagine her to be such a person as the 
 blind bard of Greece fabled to be the goddess of 
 war, fighting among men." 
 
 " Xay," said Alice ; " I know nothing of the 
 goddess thou speakest of; but I think she must 
 be one talked of in the books, out of which thy 
 master, and this strange man, Angus of Cumnock,
 
 358 
 
 have spoken to thee so much, and made thee what 
 thy maligners choose to call a learned serf." 
 
 " Him thou dost call a strange man, Alice, is 
 the ruin of one whom Nature designed for the 
 noblest purposes. Born in a high place, he inhe- 
 rited from his race the loftiest aspirations, and the 
 purest feelings. Feudal hate, the curse of our 
 great ones, and the rapacity of a royal favourite, 
 hurled him out of his sphere. He became a monk, 
 and there, in deep devotion to study, he sought to 
 hide his better feelings, and was for a time success- 
 ful ; but the rankling sore at length broke out, ac- 
 celerated by the oppression he every day witnessed 
 of his kindred and his countrymen. He left his 
 retirement for the bustling scenes of life, but 
 there he was unlike other men ; and he passed his 
 time still partly among his books, but chiefly in 
 teaching the children of his cousin Malcolm of El- 
 derslie. Thus my master acquired his great know- 
 ledge, which thou knowest exceeds that of any 
 lord in Scotland." 
 
 " What will become of him, Cormack, unsettled 
 in his mind, and cast on the wilderness, among the
 
 359 
 
 various and motley groups that harbour there ; he 
 will be lost?" 
 
 " Thou knowest him not. At times his highly 
 gifted soul would seem to give place to a fiend 
 within him ; but, ever after a little, he is himself 
 again, and both an able counsellor and a stalwart 
 warrior. I warrant thee we shall hear of his feats 
 if he keep out of Southron hands, for doubtless 
 now they will try to seize him ; but I fear chiefly 
 the effect of the lady's loss on his infirm mind. I 
 cannot tell what that may be." 
 
 " 0, Cormack, if thy master doth succeed in 
 freeing his country from such scenes of woe, as 
 must now be acting with this hapless lady, and her 
 no less wretched uncle, to say nothing of the good 
 Wallace himself, his name should be hallowed in all 
 times coming as a saint of Heaven!" cried she, 
 with enthusiastic ardour. 
 
 " And that he will succeed, we cannot doubt," 
 said Cormack, more quietly ; " but it may be with 
 the loss of him and the best of our earliest patriots. 
 If it be so, Alice dear, thou wilt scarcely find Cor- 
 mack among the survivors."
 
 3G0 
 
 *' If tliey are doomed," said she with a sigh, 
 *' thou, as one of the first and most devoted of his 
 followers, must go down also ; hut kind Heaven 
 will avert such calamity. We are in the hands 
 of a merciful and all-knowing Providence, which, 
 sooner or later, doth avenge on themselves the evil 
 deeds of cruel and wicked men ; and I will not look 
 to the future, Cormack, with a gloomy brow." 
 
 From day to day, Cormack improved under the 
 skilful attention and the tender care of Alice, with 
 whom he enjoyed many delightful interviews, va- 
 ried occasionally with conversations of a more bel- 
 licose nature with her father, and the principal fol- 
 lowers of Sir Ranald, who were in the secret, and 
 who never tired of discussing the adventures of 
 Wallace and his band. The old Baron in person 
 saw him, and with great caution (as he thought), 
 but not sufficient to hoodwink Cormack, informed 
 him that compassion for himself, and a desire to 
 rescue his nephew from the Governor, had induced 
 him to permit his being harboured within his 
 bounds, but he trusted that his master, and of 
 course he himself, would abandon such dangerous
 
 361 
 
 coui'ses, with a great deal of reasoning equally 
 profound, which he would have spared had he 
 known how much his listener knew. 
 
 On the day previous to his intended departure, 
 Cormack (who had for several days been arrayed in 
 the loose garments of an invalid, in which he re- 
 clined on a long wooden bench with a back, resem- 
 bling the frame of a sofa, in a little apartment 
 fitted up by Alice for him) donned his doublet 
 and hose, and shewed himself about the doors of the 
 steading. 
 
 Agnes, the confidential maiden of Alice, who 
 had not seen Cormack for some time in health, 
 and who was ignorant that he and the wounded 
 man were the same, was struck with his appearance. 
 
 " What a look he hath of that youth who came 
 from Riccarton, and was so wild-like — he whom I 
 saw here some weeks ago, much improved ; but, St 
 Mary ! it cannot be the same, — this is either an- 
 other or a new man ! " 
 
 " Canst thou keep a secret, Agnes ? " said her 
 
 mistress. I will trust thee, for I am sure thou 
 
 would'st injure no one. It is the same ! " 
 
 Q
 
 362 
 
 Can it be possible ! " cried Agnes ; " but I see 
 how it is," continued she, after musing a little ; 
 " it is liberty ! my mistress. He is like the stag of 
 the field escaped from the pen-fold of the keeper — 
 like the young war-horse freed from the trammels 
 of the stable — like one on whose springs of life the 
 load of slavery hath pressed so heavily, that its re- 
 moval is just as if a cloud passed off from the 
 moon, leaving its natural aspect in its primitive 
 beauty. Never, on the face of one in thraldom 
 was seen the noble and manly expression which 
 this man's countenance bears." 
 
 " There is more, Agnes ; his mind hath been 
 awakened by the indraught of knowledge, which 
 thou and I can have no notion of." 
 
 " Yea, it may be so," said Agnes, herself a 
 serf; " but the most hidden secrets in knowledge, 
 when revealed to man, would not thus ennoble his 
 visage, and cause him to carry his head erect to 
 the heavens, shewing that he feels no one hath 
 property in him." 
 
 She hunff her head, and Alice mentally resolved
 
 363 
 
 tliat she should not bo long a serf if she could ac- 
 complish her emancipation. 
 
 " Thou hast always been my kind mistress," 
 said Agnes ; " and I do not hesitate to say unto 
 thee what my untaught nature may prompt. Doth 
 it not seem strange, that the free men of our coun- 
 try, who are so impatient of the yoke imposed on 
 them by a stranger, should keep so many of their 
 countrymen in bondage V 
 
 *' Thou art acute, Agnes ; and I fear, my poor 
 girl, thy mind hath led thee to dangerous ground. 
 Do not, child, for all that I can say to thee, talk 
 to any other person in this strain ; it may be mis- 
 understood as indicating a rebellious spirit." 
 
 " To no one but thee would I yenture so to 
 speak," replied Alice, with downcast look. " It 
 is the outpouring of my own thoughts, and no one 
 hath suggested them." 
 
 " I believe it ; and if any others in thy station 
 were to speak to me, Agnes, I would scarcely 
 know what to say ; but I know thy truth and fide- 
 lity. Therefore I say unto thee, that the good 
 AVallace doth intend that the whole class of serfs
 
 364 
 
 shall, in the course of this struggle, which hath just 
 commenced, he restored to freedom ; they have all 
 reason to pray for his success." 
 
 " And to spend their hlood in it," cried Agnes, 
 — " to die for it ; I myself would cheerfully, the 
 cause is so sacred." 
 
 " Thou art a strange lass," said Alice, regard- 
 ing her stern and excited look with surprise. 
 
 " Why do they not proclaim freedom to the 
 hondsmen at once, and summon them to defend 
 their new found rights V enquired Agnes. 
 
 " I pretend not to understand such weighty 
 matters. Doubtless there are reasons, and we had 
 better say no more about it." 
 
 " My dear mistress will not misunderstand me," 
 said Agnes. " I speak not of my own state, for 
 it hath been blessed ; but few there are in South- 
 ron hands now, that do not curse the day they were 
 born ; and who knows when it may be my fate, per- 
 haps thine, free as thou art, to be bondswoman to 
 the conqueror, if this bold, yet somewhat despe- 
 rate attempt should fail V 
 
 «' Such might be," said Alice ; " but I think the
 
 365 
 
 spirit of oiir Scottish people, whether free or bond, 
 hath now been roused, and the quarrel shall not 
 end in favour of the Southron till most of the na- 
 tion he exterminated ; that is my own poor opinion, 
 Agnes. Now, let us to our spinning-gear, and 
 forget this sad subject." 
 
 On the same day, the somewhat reserved Laird 
 of Drongan arrived to hold a conversation with 
 Simon and his guests ; and, after discussing the 
 never-failing topic, the latter withdrew, in order to 
 see as much as possible of Alice before his depar- 
 ture on the following day. 
 
 " The lad is stark and stout, friend Simon," said 
 Drongan. " Truly, he hath mended wonderfully ; 
 but his wound is still a great gap ; natheless, Alice 
 thinks it will soon be well." 
 
 " She hath been his leech throughout." 
 
 " Surely, she hath, like other maidens, paid much 
 attention to such things, and hath skill." 
 
 " I doubt it not ; and I doubt not either, that 
 Cormack would prefer her to our Castle leech, the 
 good Father Eustace," said Drongan, with a sly 
 look, which sat so strangely on his unaccustomed
 
 366 ' 
 
 visage, that even the somewhat stolid Simon was 
 affected by it. 
 
 After Drongan's departure, such an extraordi- 
 nary thing as a joke from him dwelt in Simon's 
 mind so long and so effectually, that by the next 
 morning, he had arrived at an indistinct conviction 
 of what every one but he knew perfectly well. But 
 before he had made up his mind, the now obnoxious 
 Cormack had departed, and he had only his daugh- 
 ter on whom to vent the wrath that boiled over. 
 A scene of reproach and of altercation ensued, for 
 she had been a spoiled child, and feared not to tell 
 her father that Cormack was even too good for his 
 daughter ; and it ended in his forbidding all in- 
 tercourse between them on pain of disinheritance, 
 and in a burst of grief on her part, which, with all 
 her pretended resolution, she could not control. 
 
 KND OF VOLUMli FIRST,
 
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