CHAPTER 82 THE TOWER OF LONDON Helen's fleet steps carried her in a few minutes through the intervening dungeons to the door which would restore to her eyes the being with whose life her existence seemed blended. The bolts had yielded to her hands. The iron latch now gave way, and the ponderous oak, grating dismally on its hinges. She looked forward, and beheld the object of all her solicitude, leaning along a couch. A stone table was before him, at which he seemed riding. He raised his head at the sound.  The first glance at his pale but heavenly continents struck to the heart of Helen. Veneration, anguish, shame, all rushed on her at once. She was in his presence, but how he might turn from consolations he had not sought. The intemperate passion of her stepmother now glared before her. His contempt of the countesses, unsolicited advances, appeared ready to be extended to her rash daughter-in-law. And with an irrepressible cry which seemed to breathe out her life, Helen would have fled, but her failing limbs bent under her, and she fell senseless into the dungeon. Wallace started from his reclining position. He thought his senses must deceive him. Yet the shriek was Lady Helen's. He had heard the same cry at the Pentland Hills in the chamber of Chateau-Glard. He rose agitated. He approached the prostite youth, and bending to the inanimate form took off the Norman hat. He parted the heavy locks which fell over her brow, and recognized the features of her who alone had ever shared his meditations with his Marian. He sprinkled water on her face in hands. He touched her cheek. It was ashy cold, and the chills struck to his heart. Helen exclaimed he. Helen, awake. Speak to thy friend. She was still motionless. Dead, cried he, with increased emotion. His eye and his heart in a moment discerned and understood the rapid emaciation of those lovely features, now fearing the worst. Gone so soon, repeated he. Gone to tell my Marian that her Wallace comes. Blessed angel, cried he, clasping her to his breast, with an energy of which he was not aware. Take me, take me with thee. The pressure, the voice, roused the dormant life of Helen. With a torturing sigh, she unsealed her eyes from the death-like load that oppressed them, and found herself in the arms of Wallace. All her wandering senses, which from the first promulgation of his danger had been kept in a bewildered state, now rallied, and in recovered sanity, smote her to the soul. Though still overwhelmed with grief at the fate which threatened to tear him from her and life, she now wondered how she could ever have so trampled on the retreating modesty of her nature as to have brought herself thus into his presence. And in a voice of horror, of despair, believing that she had forever destroyed herself in his opinion, she exclaimed, Oh, Wallace, how came I here? I am lost, and innocently but God, the pure God, can read the soul. She lay in helpless misery on his breast, with her eyes again closed, almost unconscious of the support on which she leaned. Lady Helen, returned he, Was it other than Wallace you saw in these dungeons? I dared to think that the parent we both adore had sent you hither to be his harbinger of consolation. Recall the self-possession by the kindness of these words, Helen turned her head on his bosom, and in a burst of grateful tears, hardly articulated. And will you not appor me for this act of madness? But I was not myself, and yet where should I live but at the feet of my benefactor? The steadfast soul of Wallace was subdued by this language and the manner of its utterance. It was the disinterested dictates of a pure though agitated spirit, which he now was convinced did most exclusively love him.  She felt them, and rejoicing in such an assurance that she yet possessed his esteem, a blessed calm diffused itself over her mind, and raising herself with a look of virtuous confidence, she exclaimed. Then you do understand me, Wallace? You pardon me, this apparent forgetfulness of my sex, and do you recognize a true sister in Helen Marr? I may administer to you that noble heart till she paused, turning deathly pale, and then clasping his hand in both hers in bitter agony added, till we meet in heaven? And blissful, dearest saint, will be our union there, replied he, where soul meets soul, unencumbered by these earthly fetters, and mingles with each other, even as thy tender teardrops now glide into mine. But there, my Helen, we shall never weep. No heart will be left unsatisfied, no spirit will mourn in unrequited love, for that happy region is the abode of love, of love without the defilements or disquietudes of mortality, for there it is an everlasting, pure enjoyment. It is a full, diffusive tenderness which, penetrating all hearts, unites the whole in one spirit of boundless love in the bosom of our God. Who, the source of all love, as John the beloved disciple saith, so loved a lost world that he sent his only son to redeem it from its sins, and to bring it to eternal blessedness. Ah, cried Helen, throwing herself on her knees in holy enthusiasm. Join then your prayers with mine, most revered of friends, that I may be admitted into such blessedness. Petition our God to forgive me, and do you forgive me, that I have sometimes envied the love you bear, your Marian. But now I love her so entirely, that to be her and your ministering spirit in paradise would amply satisfy my soul. Oh, Helen, cried Wallace, grasping her uplifted hands in his, and clasping them to his heart. Thy soul and Marian's are indeed one, and as one I love ye. This unlooked-for declaration almost overpowered Helen in its flood of happiness, and with a smile which seemed to picture the very heavens opening before her, she turned her eyes from him to a crucifix which stood on a table, and bowing her head on its pedestal was lost in the devotion of rapturous gratitude. At this juncture, when, perhaps, the purest bliss that ever descended on woman's heart now glowed in that of Helen, the Earl of Gloucester entered, his were not visits of consolation, for he knew that his friend, who had built his heroism on the rock of Christianity, did not require the comfortings of any mortal hand. At the sight of him Wallace, pointing to the kneeling Helen, beckoned him into the inner cell where his straw pallet lay, and there, in a low voice, declared who she was, and requested the Earl to use his authority to allow her to remain with him to the last. After that, said he, I rely on you, generous Gloucester, to convey safely back to her country a being who seems to have nothing of earth about her, but the terrestrial body which enshrines her angelic soul. The sound of a voice speaking with Wallace roused Helen from her happy trance. Alarm that it might be the fatal emissaries of the tyrant come prematurely to summon him to his last hour, she started on her feet. Where are you Wallace? she cried, looking distractively around her. I must be with you, even in death. Hearing her fearful cry, he hastened into the dungeon, and relieved her immediate terror by naming the Earl of Gloucester, who followed him. The conviction that Wallace was under mortal sentence, which the heaven-sent impression of his eternal bliss had just almost obliterated, now glared upon her with redoubled whores. This world again rose before her in the person of Gloucester. It reminded her that she and Wallace were not yet passed into the hereafter, whose anticipated reunion had wrapped her in such sweet elysium. He had yet the bitter cup of death to drink to the dregs, and all of human weakness again writhed within her bosom. And is there no hope, faltered she, looking earnestly on the disturbed face of Gloucester, who had bowed with a pitying respect to her as he approached her? And then, while he seemed hesitating for an answer, she more firmly but imploringly resumed, oh, let me seek your king. Once he was a crusade prince, the cross was then on his breast, and the love of him who came to redeem lost man, nay, even his direst enemies, from death unto life, must have been then in your king's heart. Oh, if once there it cannot be wholly extinguished now, let me, gracious Earl, but recall to him that he was then beloved by a queen who to this day is the glory of her sex. On that spot of holy contest she preserved his life from an assassin's poison, by daring the sacrifice of her own. But she lived to bless him and to be blessed herself, while Sir William Wallace, also a Christian knight, anointed by virtue in his cause, hath only done for his own country and its trampled land what King Edward then did for Christendom in Palestine. And he was roused to the defense by a deed worse than ever infiddle afflicted. The wife of his bosom, whom had all of Angel about her, but that of her mortal body, was stabbed by a murderous southern governor in Scotland, because she would not betray her husband to his desolating brand. I would relate this on my knees to your royal Edward and call on the spirit of his sainted queen to enforce my suit by the memory of her love and her devotedness. Helen, who had risen in her energy of speech and supplication, suddenly paused, clasped her hands and stood with upward eyes, looking as if she beheld the beatified object of her invocation. Dear sister of my soul, cried Wallace, who had foreborn to interrupt her, taking her clasped hands in his. Thy knee shall never bend to any less than to the blessed Lord of all mankind for me. Did he will my longer pilgrimage on this earth, of which my spirit is already weary, it would not be in the power of any human tyrant to hold me in these bonds. And, for Edward, believe, that not all thy tender eloquence could make one impression, where a long, obdurate ambition has set so deep a seal. I am content to go, my sister, and angels whisper me, and his voice became subdued, though still calm while he added in a lowered tone, like that angel whisper, that thy bridal bed will be in William Wallace's grave. She spoke not, but at this assurance turned her tearful eyes upon him with a beam of delight. With such delight the vessel consigns herself to the cloister. With such delight the widowed mourner lays her head to rest on the tomb of him she loved. But with such delight none are acquainted who know not what it is to be wedded to the soul of a beloved being, when the body, which was once its vestment, lies moldering in the earth. Gloucester contemplated this chaste union of two spotless hearts, with an admiration almost amounting to devotion. Noble Lady, said he, The message that I came to impart to Sir William Wallace bears with it a show of hope, and I trust that your gentle spirit will yet be as persuasive as consolatory. A deputation has arrived from our border counties, headed by the good barons to Hilton and to Bleckensop, praying the royal mercy for their gallant foe, who had been most generous to them, they set forth, in their extremity. And the king was listening to them, with what temper I know not, when a private embassy, as opportunely, made its appearance from France on the same errand, in short, to negotiate with Edward for the safety of our friend, as a prince of that realm. I left the ambassadors, continued the earl, turning to Wallace, in debate with his majesty, and he has at length granted a suspension, nay, has even promised a repeal of the horrible injustice that was to be completed tomorrow, if you can be brought in accord with certain proposals, now to be laid before you. Accept them, and Edward will comply with all king's phillips demands in your behalf. Then you will accept them, cried Helen, in a tumult of suspense. The communication of Gloucester had made no change in the equitable pulse of Wallace, and he replied, with a look of tender pity upon her animated continence. The proposals of Edward are too likely to be snares for that honor which I would bear with me uncontaminated to the grave. Therefore, dearest counselor of my last hours, do not give way to hopes which a greater king than Edward may command me to disappoint. Helen bowed her head in silence. The color again faded from her cheek, and despair once more seized on her heart. Gloucester resumed, and, after narrating some particulars concerning the conference between the king and the ambassadors, he suggested the impracticality of secretly retaining Lady Helen for any length of time in the state dungeon. I dare not, continued he, be privy to her presence here, and yet conceal it from the king. I know not what messengers he may send to impart his conditions to you, and should she be discovered, Edward, doubly incensed, would tear her from you, and as an accessory, so involve me in her displeasure that I should be disabled from serving either of you further. Where I so to honor his feelings as a man as to mention it to him, I do not believe that he would oppose her wishes, but how to reveal such a circumstance with any regard to her fair fame, I know not, for all are not sufficiently virtuous to believe her spotless innocence. Helen hastily interrupted Gloucester, and with a firmness said, When I entered these walls, the world and I parted forever. The good or the evil opinion of the impure in heart can never affect me. They shall never see me more. The innocent will judge me by themselves, and by the end of my race. I came to minister with the sister's duty to my own and my father's preserver, and while he abides here I will never consent to leave his feet. When he goes hence, if it be to bless mankind again, I shall find the longest life too short to pour forth all my gratitude, and for that purpose I will dedicate myself in some nunnery of my native land. But should he be taken from a world so unworthy of him, soon, very soon, I shall cease to feel its aspersions in the grave. No aspersions which I can avert, dearest Helen, cried Wallace, shall ever tarnish the fame of one whose purity can only be transcended by her who is now made perfect in heaven. Consent, noblest of women, to where, for the few days I may yet linger here, a name which thy sister angel has sanctified to me. Give me a legal right to call you mine, and Edward himself will not then dare to divide what God has joined together. Helen paused. Even her heart seemed to cease its pulsation in the awful moment. Did she hear a rite, and was she indeed going to invade the rites of the wife she had so often vowed to regard as the sole object of Wallace's dearest wishes? Oh no, it was not the lover that shone in his luminous eyes. It was not the mistress that glowed in her bosom. Words might be breathed, but no change would be wrought in the souls of them who were already separated from the earth. With these thoughts Helen turned toward Wallace. She attempted to answer, but the words died on the seraphic smile which beamed upon her lips, and she dropped her head upon his breast. Gloucester, who saw no other means of ensuring to his friend the comfort of her society, was rejoiced at this mutual resolution. He had longed to propose it, but considering the peculiarities of their situation, knew not how to do so without seeming to mock their sensibility and fate. It was now near midnight, and having read the consent of Helen in the tender emotion which denied her speech, without further delay he quitted the apartment to summon the Confessor of the Warden to unite their hands. On his re-entrance he found Helen sitting, dissolved in tears, with her hand clasped in her friends. The sacred rite was soon performed, which endowed her with all the claims upon Wallace which her devoted heart had so long contemplated with resigned hopelessness. To be his helpmate on earth, his partner in the tomb, his dear companion in heaven.  Gloucester, with the look of kind farewell, withdrew with the priest. Thou noble daughter of the noblest scot, said Wallace, raising her from the ground. This bosom is thy place, and not my feet. Long it will not be given me to hold thee here, but even in the hours of years of our separation my spirit will hover near thee, to bring thine to our everlasting home. The heart of Helen alternatively beat violently and stopped, as if the vital current were suddenly impeded. Hope and fear agitated her by turns, but clinging to the flattering ideas which the arrival of the ambassadors had excited, she timidly breathed the hope that, by the present interferences of King Philip, Edward might not be found inexorable. Disturb not the holy composure of your soul by such an expectation, returned Wallace. I know my adversary too well to anticipate his relinquishing the object of his vengeance, but at a price more infamous than the most ignoble death. Therefore, best beloved of all on earth, look for no deliverance for thy Wallace, but what passes through the grave. And to me, dearest Helen, its gates are on golden hinges turning, for all is light and bliss which shines on me from within their courts. Helen's thoughts, in the idea of his being torn from her, could not rest themselves from the dire images of his execution. She shuddered, and in faltering accents replied, Ah, could we glide from sleep into so blessed a death I would hail it even for thee? But the threatened horrors, should they fall on thy sacred head, will in that hour I trust also divorce my soul from this grievous world. Not so, my Helen, returned he. Keep not thy dear eyes forever fixed on the gloomy appendages of death. The scaffold and the grave have not to do with the immortal soul. It cannot be wounded by the one, nor confined by the other. And is not the soul thy full and perfect Wallace? It is that which now speaks to thee, which will cherish thy beloved idea forever. Lament not, then, how soon this body, its mere apparel, is laid down in the dust, but rejoice still in my existence, which, through him who led captivity captive, will never know a pause. Comfort, then, thy heart, thy soul's dear sister, and sojourn a little while on this earth to bear witness for thy Wallace to the friends he loves. Helen, who felt the import of his words in her heart, gently bowed her head, and he proceeded. As the first who stemmed with me, the torrent which, with God's help, we so often laid into a calm, I mentioned to you my faithful men of Lanark. Many of them bled and died in the contest, and to their orphans, with the children of those who yet survive, I can sign all of the world's wealth that yet belongs to William Wallace. Ellersley and its estates are theirs. Footnote. This bequest of Wallace is a fact. End of footnote. And to Kirkpatrick I give my prayers and blessings. Here Wallace paused. Helen had listened to him with a holy attention, which hardly allowed a sigh to breathe from her steadfast heart. She spoke, but the voice was scarcely audible. And what for him who loves you dearer than life, for Edwin, he cannot be forgotten? Wallace started at this. Then she was ignorant of the death of that too faithful friend.  Helen's eyes met his with a look of inquiry. That would mean he is gone before you? The continents of Wallace answered her. Happy Edwin, cried she, and the tears rained over her cheeks as she bent her head on her arms. Wallace continued. He laid down his life to preserve mine in the hovel of Lumlock. The false Monteith could get no scot to lay hands on their true defender, and even the foreign Ruffians he brought to the task might have spared the noble boy, but an arrow from the trader himself pierced his heart. Contention was then no more, and I resigned myself to follow him. What a desert does the world become, exclaimed Helen. Then turning on Wallace with saintlike smile, she added, I would hardly now withhold you. You will bear him Helen's love, and tell him how soon I shall be with you. If your father would not allow my heart to break, in his mercy he may take my soul in the prayers which I shall hourly breathe to him. Thou hast been lent to me as my sweet consolation here, my Helen, replied he, and the almighty dispenser of that comfort will not long banish you from the object of your innocent wishes. While they thus poured into each other's bosoms the ineffable balm of friendship's purest tenderness, the eyes of Wallace insensibly closed. Your gentle influence, gently murmured he, brings that sleep to my eyelids which has not visited them since I first entered these balls. Like Marion, Helen, thy presence brings healing on its wings. Sleep then, replied she, and Marion's angel spirit will keep watch with mine. The elements seemed to let loose to rage around the walls of the dungeon, still Wallace slept in the loud uproar. Calm was within, and the warfare of the world could not disturb the balmy rest into which the angel of peace had steeped his senses. From this profound repose he was awakened by the entrance of Gloucester. Helen had just sunk into a slight slumber, but the first words of the earl aroused her, and rising she followed her beloved Wallace to his side. Gloucester put a scroll into the hand of Wallace. Sign that, said he, and you are free. I know not its contents, but the king commissioned me, as a mark of his grace, to be the messenger of your release. Wallace read the conditions, and the color deepened on his cheek as as I met each article. He was to reveal the asylum of Bruce, to forswear Scotland for ever, and to take an oath of allegiance to Edward, the seal of which should be the English earldom of Cleveland. Wallace closed the parchment. King Edward knows what will be my reply. I need not speak it. You will accept his terms, asked the earl. Not to ensure me a life of ages, with all earthly bliss my portion. I have spoken to these offers before. Read them, my noble friend, and then give him as mine the answer which would be yours. Gloucester obeyed, and while his eyes were bent on the parchment, those of Helen were fixed on her almost worshiped husband. She looked through his beaming countenance into his very soul, and saw there the sublime purpose that had consigned his unbending head to the scaffold. When Gloucester had finished, covered with the burning blush of shame, he crushed the disgraceful scroll in his hand, and exclaimed with honourable vehemence against the deep duplicity, the deeper cruelty of his father-in-law, so to mock by base subterfuges the Embassy of France and its noble object. This is the morning in which I was to have met my fate, replied Wallace. Tell this tyrant of the earth that I am even now ready to receive the last stroke of his injustice. In the peaceful grave, my Helen, added he, turning to her, who sat pale and aghast, I shall be beyond his power. Gloucester walked the room in great disturbance of mind, while Wallace continued in a lowered tone to recall some perception of his own consolations to the abstracted and soul-struck Helen. The earl stopped suddenly before them. That the King did not expect your acquiescence without some hesitation I cannot doubt, for when I informed him the Lady Helen Mar, now your wife, was the sharer of your prison, he started, and told me that should you still oppose yourself to his conditions, I must bring her to him, who might perhaps be the means of persuading you to receive his mercy. Never, replied Wallace, I reject what he calls mercy. He has no rights of judgment over me, and his pretended mercy is an assumption which, as a true scot, I despise. He may rifle me of my life, but he shall never beguile me into any acknowledgment of an authority that is false. No wife, nor ought of mine, shall ever stand before him as a suppliant for William Wallace. I will die as I have lived, the equal of Edward in all things but a crown, and his superior in being true to the glory of Prince or peasant, unblemished honour. Finding the Scottish Chief not to be shaken in this determination, Gloucester, humbled to the soul by the base tyranny of his royal father-in-law, soon after withdrew, to acquaint that haughty monarch with the ill-success of his embassy. But ere noon had turned, he reappeared, with a countenance declarative of some distressing errand. He found Helen awakened to the full perception of all her pending evils, that she was on the eve of losing forever the object dearest to her in this world. And though she wept not, though she listened to the Lord of all her wishes with smiles of holy approval, her heart blood within, and with a welcome which enforced his consolatory arguments, she hailed her own inwardly foreboding mortal pains. I come, said Gloucester, not to urge you to send Lady Helen as a suitor to King Edward, but to spare her the misery of being separated from you while life is yours. He then said that the French ambassadors were kept in ignorance of the conditions which were offered to the object of their mission, and on being informed that he had refused them, they showed themselves so little satisfied with the sincerity of what had been done, that Edward thought it expedient to conciliate Philip by taking some pains to dislodge their suspicions. To this effect he proposed to the French lords sending his final propositions to Sir William Wallace by that chieftain's wife, who he found was then his companion in the tower. On my intimating continued the earl that I feared she would be unable to appear before him, his answer was, let her see to that such a refusal shall be answered by an immediate separation from her husband. Let me, in this demand, cried she, turning with collected firmness to Wallace, satisfy the will of Edward. It is only to purchase my continuance with you. Trust me, nobleness of men, I should be unworthy of the name you have given me, could I sully it in my person by one debasing word or action, to the author of all our ills. Ah! my Helen! replied he. What is it you ask? Am I to live to see a repetition of the horrors of Ellersley? No, on my life, answered Gloucester. In this instance I would pledge my soul for King Edward's manhood. His ambition might lead him to trample on all men, but still, for woman, he feels as becomes a man at a night. Helen renewed her supplications, and Wallace, aware that should he withhold her attendance, his implacable adversary, however he might spare her personal injury, would not for bear wounding her to the soul by tearing her from him, gave an unwilling consent to what might seem a submission on his part to an authority he had shed his blood to oppose. But not in these garments, said he, she must be habited as becomes her sex and her own delicacy. Anticipating this propriety, Gloucester had imparted the circumstances to his countess, and she had sent a casket, which the Earl himself now brought in from the passage. Helen retired to the inner cell, and hastily arranging herself in the first suit that presented itself, reappeared in female apparel, and wrapped in a long veil. As Gloucester took her hand to lead her forth, Wallace clasped the other in his. Remember, my Helen, cried he, that on no terms but untrammeled freedom of soul will your Wallace accept life. This will not be granted by the man to whom you go. Then speak and act in his presence as if I were already beyond the skies. Had this faithful friend, now his almost adoring wife, left his side with more sanguine hopes, how grievously would they have been blasted? After an absence of two hours she returned to the dungeon of Wallace, and as her trembling form was clasped in his arms, she exclaimed in a passion of tears.  They may sever my soul from my body, but never again part me from this dear bosom. Never, never, my Helen, said he, reading her conference with the king in the wild terror of its effects. Her senses seemed fearfully disordered. While she clung to him, and muttered sentences of an incoherency that shook him to the soul, he cast a look of such expressive inquiry upon Gloucester that the Earl could only answer by hastily putting his hand on his face to hide his emotion. At last the tears she shed appeared to relieve the excess of her agonies, and she gradually sunk into an awful calm. Then, rising from her husband's arms, she seated herself on his stony couch, and said in a firm voice, Earl, I can now bear to hear you repeat that last decision of the king of England. Though not absolutely present at the interview between his sovereign and Lady Helen, from the ante-room Gloucester had heard all that passed, and now he briefly confessed to Wallace that he had too truly appreciated the pretendent conciliation of the king. Edward's proposals to Helen were as artfully couched as deceptive in their design. Their issue was to make Wallace his slave or to hold him as victim. In his conference with her he addressed the vanity of an ambitious woman. Then, all the affections of a devoted heart. He enforced his arguments with persuasions to allure and threats to compel obedience. In the last he called up every image to appall the soul of Helen, but steadfast in the principles of her lord, while ready to sink under the menace tours of his fate, she summoned all her strength to give utterance to her last reply. Mortal distinctions, king of England, cried she, cannot bribe the wife of Sir William Wallace to betray his virtues. His life is dear to me, but his immaculate faith to his God and to his lawful prince are dearer. I can see him die and live, for I shall join him triumphant in heaven. But to behold him dishonor himself, to counsel him to do so, is beyond my power. I should expire with grief in the shameful moment. The indignation of the king at this answer was too oppressive of the tender nature of Lady Wallace for Gloucester to venture repeating it to her husband. And while she turned deathly pale at the recollection, Wallace, exulting in her conduct, pressed her hand silently but fervently to his lips. The Earl resumed, but observing the reawakened agonies of her mind in her two expressive countenance, he strove to soften the blow he must inflict in the remainder of his narrative. Dearest lady, said he, rather addressing her than Wallace, to convince your suffering spirit that no earthly means have been left unassayed to change the unjust purpose of the king, know that when he quitted you I left in his presence the queen and my wife, both weeping tears of disappointment. On the moment when I found that arguments could no longer avail, I implored him, by every consideration of God and man, to redeem his honour, sacrificed by the most unjust decree pronounced on Sir William Wallace. My entreaties were repulsed with anger for the sudden entrance of Lord Athol with fresh fuel to his flame, so confirmed his direful resolution, that desperate for my friend I threw myself on my knees. The queen, and then my wife, both prostrated his feet, enforced my suit, but all in vain. His heart seemed hardened by our earnestness, and his answer, while it put us to silence, granted Wallace a triumph even in his dungeon. Cease, cried the king, Wallace and I have now come to that issue where one must fall. I shall use my advantage, though I should walk over the necks of half of my kindred to accomplish his fate. I can find no security on my throne, no peace in my dead, until I know that he, my direst enemy, is no more. Sorry I am, generous Clouster, interrupted Wallace, that for my life you have stooped your need to one so unworthy of your nobleness. Let then his tyranny take its course. But its shaft will not reach the soul his unkingly spirit hopes to wound. The bitterness of death was passed when I quitted Scotland, and for this body he made dishonour it, mangle its limbs, but William Wallace may then be far beyond his reach. Clouster gazed on him, doubting the expression of his countenance. It was calm, but pale even to a marble hue. Surely, said he, my unconquered friend, will not now be forced to self-violence? God forbid, returned Wallace, suspect me not of such base vassalage to this poor tabernacle of clay. Did I believe at my father's will that I should die at every pore I would submit, for so his immaculate son laid down his life for a rebellious world. And is a servant greater than his master that I should say exempt me from this trial? No, I await his summons, but he so strengthens my soul on his breast that the court of Edward shall never make my freeborn Scottish neck feel its degrading touch. His pale cheek was now luminous with a bright smile as he pressed his swelling heart. With reawakened horror Helen listened to the words of Wallace, which referred to the last outrage to be committed on his sacred remains. She recalled the corresponding threats of the king, and again losing self-possession, starting wildly up, exclaimed, and there is no humanity in that ruthless man. Oh! cried she, tearing her eyes from the beloved form on which it had been such bliss to gaze. Let the sacrifice of my life be offered to this cruel king to save for main dignity. She could add no more, but dropped half lifeless on the arm of Wallace. Gloucester understood the object of such anguished solicitude, and while Wallace again seated her, he revived her by a protestation, that the claws she so fearfully deprecated had been repealed by Edward. But the good earl blushed as he spoke, for in this instance he said what was not the truth. Far different had been the issue of all his attempts at mitigation. The arrival of Athol from Scotland with advices from the Countess of Strathern, that Lady Helen Marr had fled southward to raise an insurrection in favour of Wallace, and that Lord Bothwell had gone to France to move Philip up to embrace the same cause, gave Edward so apt an excuse for giving full sway to his hatred against the Scottish cheat, that he pronounced an order for the immediate and unrestricted execution of his sentence. Artifice to mislead the French ambassadors with an idea that he was desirous to accord with their royal master's wish had been the sole foundation of his proposals to Wallace, and his interview with Lady Helen, though so intemperately conducted, was dictated by the same subtle policy. When Gloucester found the impossibility of obtaining any further respite from the murderous decree, he attempted to prevail for the remission of the last clause, which ordered that his friend's noble body should be dismembered, and his limbs sent, as tears to rebellion, to the four capital fortresses of Scotland. Edward spurned at this petition, with even more acrimony than he had done the prayer for his victim's life, and Gloucester then, starting from his knee, in a burst of honest indignation said, O King, remember what is done by thee this day, refusing to give righteous judgment in favour of one who prefers virtue to a crown and life, as insincere, as secret, have been your last conditions with him, but they will be revealed when the great judge that searches all men's hearts shall cause thee to answer for this matter, at the dreadful day of universal doom. Thou has now given a sentence on a patriot and a prince, and then shall judgment be given on thee. Dangerous indeed is his rebellious spirit, cried Edward, in almost speechless wrath, since it affects even the duty of my own house.  To disappoint the revengeful monarch of at least this object of his malice, Gloucester was now resolved, and imparting his wishes to the warden of the Tower, who was his trusty friend, he laid a plan accordingly. Helen had believed his declaration to her, and bowed her head in sign that she was satisfied with his zeal. The Earl, addressing Wallace, continued, Could I have purchased thy life, thou preserver of mine, with the forfeiture of all I possess, I should have rejoiced in the exchange. But as that may not be, is there ought in the world which I can do to administer to thy wishes? Generous Gloucester, exclaimed Wallace, How unwirried has been your friendship, but I shall not tax it much further. I was riding my last wishes when this angel entered my apartment. She will now be the voice of William Wallace to his friends. But still I must make one request to you, one which I trust will not be out of your power. Let this heart, ever faithful to Scotland, at least be buried in its native country. When I cease to breathe, give it to Helen, and she will mingle it with the sacred dust of those I love. For herself, Generous Gloucester, ah, guard the vestal purity and life of my best beloved, for there are those who, when I am gone, may threaten both. Gloucester, who knew that in this apprehension Wallace meant the Lord's solace and devalence, pledged himself for the performance of his first request, and for the second he assured him he would protect Helen as a sister. But she, regardless of all other evils, than that of being severed from her dearest and best friend, exclaimed in bitter sorrow, wherever I am, still and forever shall all of Wallace that remains on earth be with me. He gave himself to me, and no mortal power shall divide us. Gloucester could not reply before the voice of the warden, calling to him that the hour of shutting the gate was arrived, compelled him to bid his friend farewell. He grasped the hand of Wallace with a strong emotion, for he knew that the next time he should meet with him would be on the scaffold. During the moments of his parting, Helen, with her hands clasped on her knees, and her eyes bent downward, inwardly and earnestly invoked the Almighty to endow her with the fortitude to bear the horrors she was to witness, that she might not, by her agonies, add to the tortures of Wallace. The cheering voice that was ever music to her ears recalled her from this devout abstraction. He laid his hand on hers, and gazing on her with a tender pity, held such sweet discourse with her that, on the approaching end of all his troubles, of his everlasting happiness, where all tears are dried away, that she listened and wept and even smiled. Yes, added he, a little while, and my virgin bride shall give me her dear embrace in heaven. Angels will precipitate our joy, and my Marian's grateful spirit join the blessed communion.  You suffered a living death to maintain my honour. Can I then divide thee, noblest, of created beings in my soul? Take then my heart's kiss, dear Helen, thy Wallace's last earthly kiss. She bent toward him, and fixed her lips to his. It was the first time they had met. His parting words still hung on them, and an icy cold ran through all her veins. She felt his heart beat heavily against hers, as he said, I have not many hours to be with thee, and yet a strange lethargy overpowers my senses. But I shall speak to thee again. He looked on her as he spoke, with such a glance of holy love, but not doubting he was now bidding her, indeed, his last farewell, that he was to pass from this sleep out of the power of man.  CHAPTER 84 Tower Hill Long and silently had she watched his rest. So gentle was his breath, that he scarcely seemed to breathe, and often, during her sad vigils, did she stoop her cheek to feel the respiration which might still bear witness that his outraged spirit was yet fettered to earth. She tremblingly placed her hand on his heart, and still its warm beats spake comfort to hers. The soul of Wallace, as well as his beloved body, was yet clashed in her arms. The arms of a sister enfold thee, murmured she to herself, they would gladly bear thee up, to lay thee on the bosom of thy martyred wife, and there how would thou smile upon and bless me? And shall we not meet so before the throne of him, whose name is truth? The first rays of the dawn shone upon his peaceful face, just as the door opened, and a priest appeared. He held in his hands the sacred host, and the golden dove, for performing the rites of the dying. At this site the harbinger of a fearful doom, the fortitude of Helen forsook her, and throwing her arms frantically over the sleeping Wallace, she exclaimed, he is dead, his sacrament is now with the Lord of Mercy. Her voice awakened Wallace. He started from his position, and Helen seeing, with a wild sort of disappointment, that he who's gliding to death in his sleep, she had even so lately deprecated. Now indeed, lift amount the scaffold in honourable horror, fell back with a heavy groan. Wallace accosted the priest with a reverential welcome, and then turning to Helen, tenderly whispered her, My Helen, in this moment of my last on earth, O, engrave on thy heart that, in the sacred words of the Patriarch of Israel, I remember thee in the kindness of thy youth, in the love of thy desolate espousals to me, when thou camest after me into the wilderness, into a land thou didst not know, and comforted me, and shalt thou not, my soul's bride, be sacred unto our Lord, the Lord of the widow and the orphan, to him I commit thee, in steadfast faith, that he will never forsake thee. Then, O dearest part of myself, let not the completion of my fate shake your dependence on the only true injust. Rejoice that Wallace has been deemed worthy to die for his having done his duty, and what is death, my Helen, that we should shun it even to rebelling against the Lord of life. Is it not the door which opens to us immortality, and in that blessed moment, who will regret that he passed through it in the bloom of his years? Come then, sister of my soul, and share with I Wallace the last supper of his Lord, the pledge of the happy eternity to which, by his grace, I now ascend. Helen, conscious, struck and reawakened to holy confidence, by the heavenly composure of his manner, obeyed the impulse of his hand, and they both knelt before the Minister of Peace. While the sacred rite proceeded, it seemed the indissoluble union of Helen's spirit with that of Wallace, my life will expire with his, was her secret response to the venerable man's exhortation to the anticipated passing soul. And when he sealed Wallace with a holy cross, under the last unction, as one who believed herself standing on the brink of eternity, she lunged to share also that mark of death. At that moment the dismal toll of a bell sounded from the top of the tower. The heart of Helen paused. The water and his train entered. I will follow him, cried she, starting from her knees, into the grave itself. What was said, what was done, she knew not, till she found herself on the scaffold, upheld by the arm of Gloucester.  His eyes were turned upward, with the martyr's confidence in the power he served. A silence as of some desert waste, reigned through the thousands who stood below. The executioner approached to throw the rope over the neck of his victim.  Wallace, with a mighty strength, burst the bands of Sunder which confined his arms, and clasping her to him, with a force that seemed to make her touch his very heart. His breast heaved as if his soul were breaking from its outraged tenement. And while his head sunk on her neck, he exclaimed, in a low and interrupted voice. My prayer is heard, Helen. Life's cord is cut by God's own hand. May he preserve my country, and, oh, trust from my youth. He stopped, he fell, and with a shock, the hastily erected scaffold shook to its foundation. The pause was dreadful. The executioner approached the prostrate chief. Helen was still locked close in his arms. The man stooped to raise his victim, but the attempt was beyond his strength. In vain he called on him, to Helen, to separate, and seized from delaying the execution of the law. No voice replied, no motion answered his louder monstrance. Gloucester with an agitation which hardly allowed him power to speak or move remembered the words of Wallace, that the rope of Edward would never sully his animate body, and bending to his friend he spoke, but all was silent there. He raised the chieftain's head, and looking on his face found indeed the indisputable stamp of death. There cried he in a burst of grief, and letting it fall again upon the insensible bosom of Helen. There broke the noblest heart that ever beat in the breast of man. The priests, the executioners, crowded round him at this declaration. But while giving a command in a low tone to the warden, he took the motionless Helen in his arms, and waving the astonished group around the noble dead, carried her from the scaffold back into the tower. The last words of Wallace were from the seventy-first psalm. My trust from my youth, O Lord God, Thou art my hope unto the end. CHAPTER 85 THE WARDEN'S APARTMENTS On the evening of the fatal day on which the son of William Wallace had set for ever on his country, the Earl of Gloucester was imparting to the warden of the tower his last directions respecting the sacred remains, when the door of the chamber suddenly opened and a file of soldiers entered. A man in armour with his visor closed was in the midst of them. The captain of the band told the warden that the person before him had behaved in a most seditious manner. He first demanded admits into the tower. Then, on the sentinel making answer, that in consequence of the recent execution of the Scottish Chief, orders had been given to allow no strangers to approach the gates till the final morning. He, the prisoner, burst into a passionate emotion, uttering such threats against the King of England that the captain thought it his duty to have him seized and brought before the warden. On the entrance of the soldiers Gloucester had retired into the shadow of the room. He turned round on hearing these particulars. When the captain ceased speaking, the stranger fearlessly threw up his visor and exclaimed, Take me, not to our warden alone, but to your King. Let me pierce his conscience with his infamy. Would it were to stab him ere I die? In this frantic adoration Gloucester discovered the gallant Bruce, and hastening toward him to prevent his apparently determined exposure of himself. With a few words he dismissed the officer and his guard, and then, turning to the warden, Sir Edward said he, This stranger is not less my friend than he that was Sir William Wallace. Then far be it from me, Earl, to denounce him to our enraged monarch. I have seen enough of noble blood shed already, and though we, the subjects of King Edward, may not call your late friend a martyr, yet we must think his country honoured in so steady a patriot, and may surely wish we had many the like in our own. With these words the worthy old knight bowed and withdrew. Bruce, who had hardly heard the observation of the warden, on his departure turned upon the Earl, and with a bursting heart exclaimed, Tell me, is it true? Am I so lost to wretch as to be deprived of my best, my dearest friend? And is it true, as I am told, that every infernal rigor of the sentence has been executed on that brave and breathless body? Answered me to the fact that I may speedily take my course. Alarmed at the direful expression of his countenance, with a quivering lip but in silence, glossed the lady's hand upon his arm. Bruce too well understood what he does not speak, and shaking it off frantically, I have no friend, cried he, Wallace, my dauntless, my only Wallace, thou art rifle from me, and shall I have fellowship with thee?  Gloucester attempted to interrupt him, but he broke out of fresh and with redoubled violence. And you, Earl, cried he, lived in this realm and suffered such a sacrilege on God's most perfect work.  Deliver me to Edward, and let me brave him to his face.  Gloucester stood indignified forbearance under the invectives and stormy grief of the Scottish Prince. But when exhausted nature seemed to take rest in momentary silence, he approached him. Bruce cast on him a lurid glance of suspicion.  For you might have saved him, and you did not. You might have preserved his sacred limbs from being made the grazing stock of traitors, and you did not. Away from me apt son of a tyrant, lest I tear you in piecemeal. By the heroic spirit of him whom this outrage on me dishonours, hear my answer, Bruce. And if not on this spot, let me then exculpate myself by the side of his body, yet un-invaded by a sacrilegious touch. How, interrupted Bruce. Gloucester continued, all that was mortal in our friend now lies in a distant chamber of this quadrangle. When I could not prevail on Edward, either by entreaty or approaches, to remit the last gloomy vengeance of tyrants, I determined to rest its object from his hands. A notorious murderer died yesterday under the torture. After the inanimate corpse of our friend was brought into this house, to be conveyed to the scene of its last horrors, by the assistance of the warden the malefactor's body was conveyed here also, and placed on the traitor's sledge in the stead of his who was no traitor, and on that murderer most justly fell the rigor of so dreadful assentance. The whole aspect of Bruce changed during this explanation, which was followed by a brief account from Gloucester of their friend's heroic suffering and death. Can you pardon my reproaches to you, cried the prince, stretching out his hand? Forgive, generous Gloucester, the distraction of a severely wounded spirit. This pardon was immediately accorded, and Bruce impetuously added, lead me to these dear remains that with redoubled certainty I may strike his murderous heart. I came to succor him. I now stay to die, but not unrevenged. I will lead you return the Earl, where you shall learn a different lesson. His soul will speak to you by the lips of his bride, now watching by those sacred relics. Feeble is now her lamp of life, but a saint's vigilance keeps it burning till it may expire in the grave with him she so chastely loved. A few words gave Bruce to understand that he meant Lady Helen Ma, and with a deepened grief when he heard in what an awful hour their hands were plighted he followed his conductor through the quadrangle. When Gloucester gently opened the door, which contained the remains of the bravest and the best, Bruce stood for a moment on the threshold. At the further end of the apartment, lighted by a solitary taper, lay the body of Wallace on a beer, covered with a soldier's cloak. Kneeling by its side with her head on his bosom was Helen. Her hair hung disordered over her shoulders, and shrouded with its dark locks the marble features of her beloved. Bruce scarcely breathed. He attempted to advance, but he staggered and fell against the wall. She looked up at the noise, but her momentary alarm ceased when she saw Gloucester. He spoke in a tender voice. We not agitated Lady, but here is the Earl of Carrick. Nothing can agitate me more, replied she, turning mournfully toward the Prince, who, raised from his momentary dizziness, beheld her regarding him with a look of one or an inhabitant of the grave. Helen faintly articulated, Bruce, I came to share your sorrows and to avenge them. Avenge them, repeated she after pause. Is there ought in vengeance that can awaken life in these cold veins again? Let the murderers live in the world. They have made a desert by the destruction of its brightest glory, and then our home will be his tomb. Again she bent her head upon Wallace's cold breasts, and seemed to forget that she had been spoken to, that Bruce was present. May I not look upon him, cried he, grasping her hand.  She moved, and the clay-hued features of all that was ever perfect in manly beauty met his sight. But the bright eyes were shut. The radiance of his smile was dimmed in death, yet still that smile was there. Bruce precipitated his lips to his, and, sinking on his knees, remained in a silence only broken by his sighs. It was an awful and heartbreaking pause, for the voice which in all scenes of wheel or woe had ever mingled sweetly with airs was silent. Helen, who had not wept since the tremendous hour of the morning, now burst into an agony of tears, and the vehemence of her feelings tearing so delicate a frame, now rendered weak unto death by a consuming sickness, which her late exertions and present griefs had made seize on her very vitals, seemed to threaten the immediate extinction of her being. Bruce, aroused by her smothered cries, as she lay almost expiring, upheld by Gloucester, hurried to her side. By degrees she recovered to life and observance, but finding herself removed from the beer she sprang wildly toward it. Bruce caught her harm to support her tottering steps. She looks steadfastly at him, and then at the motionless body. He is there, cried she, and yet he speaks not. He soothes not my grief, I weep, and he does not comfort me. And there he lies. O Bruce, can this be possible? Do I really see him dead? And what is death, added she, grasping the cold hand of Wallace to her heart. Didst thou not tell me, when this hand pressed mine and blessed me, that it was only a translation from grief to joy? And is it not so, Bruce? Behold, how we mourn, and he is happy. I will obey thee, my immortal Wallace, cried she, casting her arms about him. I will obey thee, and weep no more. She was silent and calm, and Bruce, kneeling on the opposite side of his friend, listened, without interrupting him, to the arguments which Gloucester adduced, to persuade him to abstain from discovering himself to Edward, or even uttering resentment against him, till he could do both as became the man for whom Wallace had sacrificed so much, even till he was king of Scotland. To that end, said Gloucester, did this gallant chieftain live. For in restoring you to the people of Scotland, he believed he was setting a seal to their liberties and their peace. To that end did he die, and in the direful moment uttered prayers for your establishment. Think then of this, and let him not look down from his heavenly dwelling, and see that Bruce despises the country for which he bled, that the now only hope of Scotland has sacrificed himself in a moment of inconsiderate revenge to the cruel hand which broke his dauntless heart. Bruce did not oppose this council, and as the fumes of passion passed away, leaving a manly sorrow to steady his determination of revenge, he listened with approbation and finally resolved whatever violence he might do his nature, not to allow Edward the last triumph of finding him in his power. The Earl's next essay was with Helen. He feared that a rumour of the strangest indignation at the late execution, and that the Earl of Gloucester had taken him in charge might, when associated with the fact of the widow of Sir William Wallace, still remaining under his protection, awakened some dangerous suspicion and direct investigations too likely to discover the imposition he had put on the executioners of the last clause in his royal father's most iniquitous sentence. He therefore explained this new alarm to Helen and conjured her, if she would yet preserve the hallowed remains before her from any chance of violence, which her lingering near them might induce by attracting notice to her movements, she must consent to immediately leave the kingdom. The valiant and ever-faithful heart of Wallace should be her companion, and an English captain who had partaken of his clemency at Berwick, be her trusty conductor to her native land. To meet every objection he added, Bruce shall be protected by me with strict fidelity till some safe opportunity may offer for his bearing to Scotland the sacred corpse that must ever be considered the most precious relic in his kingdom. As heaven wills the trials of my heart return she, so let it be, and bending her aching head on the dear pillow of her rest, the bosom which, though cold and deserted by its heavenly inhabitant, was still the bosom of her Wallace, the ravaged temple rendered sacred by the footsteps of a god, for had not Virtue and the soul of Wallace dwelt there, and where Virtue is there abides the spirit of the Holy One. With these thoughts she passed the remainder of the night in vigils, and they were not less devoutly shared by the chastened heart of the Prince of Scotland. End of Chapter 85, Recording by David Cole, Medway, Massachusetts Chapter 86 of The Scottish Chiefs This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by David Cole, Medway, Massachusetts The Scottish Chiefs by Miss Jane Porter Chapter 86, Highgate The tidings of the dreadful vengeance which Edward had taken against the Scottish nation by pouring all his wrath upon the head of Wallace struck like the lightning of heaven through the souls of men. None of either country, but those in the confidence of Gloucester, knew that heaven had snatched him from the dishonour of so vile a death. The English turned blushing from each other, and ventured not to breathe the name of a man whose Virtue seemed to have found a sanctuary for his fame in every honest heart. But when the news reached Scotland the indignation was general. All envying's, all strife's were forgotten in unqualified resentment of the deed. There was not a man, even amongst the late refractory chiefs, accepting the Cummins and their co-adjectors Sulus and Monteith, who really believed that Edward seriously meant sent on the Scottish patriot to a severer fate than what he had pronounced against his rebellious vassal, the Exile Baleol. The execution of Wallace, whose offence could only be that of having served his country too faithfully, was therefore so unexpected that on the first promulgation of it, so great an abhorrence of the perpetrator was excited in every breast, that the whole country rose as one man, threatening to march instantly to London and sacrifice the tyrant on his throne. At this crisis, when the mountains of the north seemed heaving from their base to overwhelm the bloodstain fields of England, every heart which secretly rejoiced in the late sanguinary event quailed within its possessor, as it tremblingly anticipated the consequences of the fall of Wallace. At this instant when the fury's armed every clan in Scotland, breathing forth revenge like a consuming fire before them, John, come in the regent, stood aghast, he foresaw his own downfall in this reawakened enthusiasm respecting the man whom his treachery had been the first meetings of betraying to his enemies. Baffled in the aim of his ambition, by the very means he had taken to effect it, come in saw no alternative, but to throw himself at once upon the bounty of England, and to this purpose he bethought him of the only chance of preserving the power of past defence that this tempest of the soul, excited by remorse in some and gratitude in others, could only be maintained to any conclusive injury to England by a royal hand. And that, that hand, was expected to be Bruce's, he determined at once, that the prince to whom he had sworn fealty, and to whom he owed his present elevation, should follow the fate of his friend. By the spies which he constantly kept round Hunting Tower, he was apprised that Bruce had set off toward London in a vessel from Dundee. On these grounds he sent a dispatch to King Edward, informing him that destiny had established him Supreme Lord of Scotland, for now its second and its last hope had put himself into his hands. With this intelligence he gave a particular account of all Bruce's proceedings, from the time of his meeting Wallace in France to his present following the Chief to London. He then craved his Majesty's pardon for having been betrayed into a union with such conspirators, and repeating his hope that the restitution he now made, in thus showing the royal hand where to find its last opponent, would give full conviction of his penitence and duty. He closed his letter by urging the king to take instant ineffectual measures to disable Bruce from disturbing the quiet of Scotland, or ever again disputing his regal claims. Gloucester happened to be in the presence when this epistle was delivered in and read by his Majesty. On the suit of his daughter Edwin had been reconciled to his son-in-law, but when he showed him the contents of Cummins letter, with a suspicious smile he said in a loud voice, In case you should know this new rebel's lurking place, presume not to leave this room till he is brought before me. See to your obedience Ralph, or your head shall follow Wallace's. The king instantly withdrew, and the Earl, aware that search would be made through all his houses, sought in his own mind for some expedient to apprise Bruce of his danger. To write in the present chamber was impossible. To deliver a message in a whisper would be hazardous, for most of the surrounding courtiers, seeing the frown with which the king had left the apartment, marked the commands he gave the Marshal. Be sure that the Earl of Gloucester quits not this room till I return. In the confusion if he thought the Earl turned his eye on Lord Montgomery, who had only arrived that very morning from in his embassy to Spain, he had heard with unutterable horror the fate of Wallace, and extending his interest in him to those whom he loved had arranged with Gloucester to accompany him that very evening to pledge his friendship to Bruce, to Montgomery then, as to the only man acquainted with his secret he turned, and taking his spurs off his feet and pulling out a purse of gold, he said aloud, and with as easy an air as he could assume. There, my Lord Montgomery, as you are going directly to Highgate, I will thank you to call at my lodge. Put these spurs and this purse into the hands of the groom we spoke of. Tell him they do not fit me, and he will know what you used to make of them. He then turned negligently on his heel, and Montgomery quitted the apartment. The apprehension of this young Lord was not less quick than the invention of his friend. He guessed that the Scottish Prince was betrayed, and to render his escape the less likely to be traced, the ground being wet and liable to retain impression. Before he went to the lodge he dismounted the adjoining wood, and with his own hands reversed the iron on the feet of the animal he had provided for Bruce. He then proceeded to the house, and found the object of his mission disguised as a carmelite, and in the chapel paying his Vespa adorations to the Almighty Being, on whom his whole dependence hung. Uninfluenced by the robes he wore, his was the devotion of the soul, and not an aptly at such an hour came one to deliver him from a danger which, unknown to himself, was then within a few minutes of seizing its prey. Montgomery entered, and being instantly recognized by Bruce, the ingenuous Prince, never doubting a noble heart, stretched out his hand to him. I take it, return the Earl, only to give it a parting grasp. Behold these spurs and purse sent to you by Gloucester. You know their use. Without further observation follow me. Montgomery was thus abrupt, because as he left the palace he had heard the Marshal give orders for different military detachments to search every residence of Gloucester for the Earl of Carrick, and he did not doubt that the party dispatched to Highgate were now mounting the hill. Bruce, throwing off his cassock and cowl, again appeared in his Marshal garb, and after bending his knee for a moment on the chancel stone which covered the remains of Wallace, he followed his friend from the chapel, and thence through a solitary path to the park, to the centre of the wood. Montgomery pointed to the horse. Bruce grasped the hand of his faithful conductor. I go, Montgomery said he, to my kingdom, but its crown shall never clasp my brows till the remains of Wallace return to their country. And whether peace or the sword restore them to Scotland, still shall a King's, a brother's friendship, unite my heart to Gloucester and to you, while speaking he vaulted into the saddle, and receiving the cordial blessings of Montgomery, touched his good steed with his pointed rowels, and was out of sight in an instant. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. About the hour of twilight, on the tenth day after Bruce had cast his last look on the capital of England, that scene of his lung captivity under the spell of delusion, that theatre of his family's disgrace of his own eternal regrets, he crossed the little stream which marked the off-contended barrier land of the two kingdoms. He there checked the headlong speed of his horse, and having alighted to give it breath, walked by its side, musing on the different feelings with which he now entered Scotland, from the buoyant emotions with which he had sprung on its shore at the beginning of the year. These thoughts, as full of sorrow as of hope, had not occupied him long when he aspired a man in the red Cummins colours speeding toward the south. He guessed him to be some new messenger of the region to Edward, and throwing himself before the horse, courted by the bridle, then coolly commanded its rider to deliver to him the dispatches which he carried to the King of England. The man refused, and striking his spurs into the beast, tried to trample down his assailant. But Bruce was not to be put from his aim. The manner of the scot convinced him that his suspicions were right, and putting forth his nervous arm, with one action he pulled the message of him his saddle, and laid him prostrate on the ground. Again he demanded the papers. I am your prince, cried he, and by the allegiance you owe to Robert Bruce I command you to deliver them into my hands. Life shall be reward, immediate death the punishment of your obstinacy. In such an extremity the man did not hesitate, and taking from his bosom a sealed packet he immediately resigned it. Bruce ordered him to stand before him till he had read the contents, trembling with terror of this formidable free booter, for he placed no belief in the declaration that he was the Prince of Scotland. The man obeyed, and Bruce, breaking the seals, found as he expected a long epistle from the regent, urging the sanguinary aim of his communications. He reiterated his arguments for the expediency of speedily putting Robert Bruce to death. He represented the danger that there was in delay, lest a man so royally descended and so popular as he had become, since it was now publicly understood that he had already fought his country's battles under the name of Sir Thomas de Longville, should find means of replacing himself at the head of so many zealots in his favor. These circumstances so propitious to ambition, and now adding personal revenge to his former boldness and policy, would at this juncture, should he arrive in Scotland, turn its growing commotions to the most decisive uses against the English power. The regent concluded with saying that the lords Lachor, Douglas and Rothven were come down from the Highlands with a multitudinous army to drive the Southerns' garrisons and to repossess themselves with the fortresses of Sterling and Edinburgh, that Lord Bothwell had returned from France with the real Sir Thomas de Longville, a knight of great valiancy, and that Sir Roger Kirkpatrick, having massacred half the English castellans in the border counties, was now lying at Torthorald, ready to commence his murderous reprisals through the coasts of Galloway. For himself, come and toll the king, he had secretly removed the Franciscan monastery at Dumfries, where he should most anxiously await his Majesty's pardon and commands. Bruce closed the packet. To prevent his discovery being betrayed ere he was ready to act, he laid his sword on the shoulder of the man. You are my prisoner, said he, but fear not. I only mean to hold you in safety till your master is answered for his treason. The messenger thought, whoever this imperious stranger might be, that he saw a truth in his eyes which ratified this assurance, and without opposition he walked before him till they stopped at Torthorald. Knight had closed in, when Bruce sounded his bugle under the walls. Kirkpatrick answered from the embrasure over the Barbican gate, with the demand of who desired admittance. To his the Avenger of Sir William Wallace was the reply. The gates flew open at the words, and Kirkpatrick, standing in the archway amid a blaze of torches, received his guest with a brave welcome. Bruce spoke no more till he entered the banqueting hall. Three other knights were seated by the table. He turned to Kirkpatrick. My valiant friend said he, order your servants to take charge of Yon Scott, pointing to the messenger of Cummin, until I command his release, let him be treated with lenity which he'll ever belong to a prisoner of Robert Bruce. As he spoke he threw up his visor, and Kirkpatrick, who had heard that the supposed DeLungville was his rightful prince, now recognized the well-known features of the brave foreigner in the stranger before him. Not doubting the verity of his words, he bent his knee with a homage due to his king, and in the action was immediately followed by Sir Eustace Maxwell, Sir James Lindsay, and Adam Fledding, who were the other knights present. I come, cried the prince, in the spirit of my heart's sovereign and friend, the now immortal Wallace, to live or to die with you in the defence of my country's liberties. With such assistance is yours, his invincible co-adjectives, and with a blessing of heaven on our arms, I hope to redeem Scotland from the disgrace which her late horrible submission to the tyrant has fastened on her name. The transgressions of my house have been grievous, but that last deadly sin of my people called for an expiation awful indeed, and it came in the moment of guilt in their crime they received punishment. They broke from their side the arms which alone had rescued them from their enemies. I now come to save them from themselves. Their having permitted the sacrifice of the rights of my family was the first injury committed on the Constitution, and it prepared a path for the ensuing tyranny which seized upon the kingdom. But, by resuming these rights, which is now my firm purpose, I open to you a way to recover our hereditary independence. The direful sin just acted on the Tower Hill of London, that horrible climax of Scottish treason, must convince every reasonable mind that all the late most fortunes of our country have proceeded from the base jealousies of its nobles. There, then, let them die, and may the grave of Wallace be the tomb of dissension. Seeing where their own true interest point, surely the brave chieftains of this land will rally round their lawful prince, who here declares he knows no medium between death and victory. The spirit with which this address was pronounced, the magnanimity it conveyed, assisted by the gracious of his youth and noble deportment, struck the hearts of its auditors, and aroused in double-figure the principal's resentment to which the first tidings of their heroic countryman's fate had given birth. Kirkpatrick needed no other stimulus than his almost idolatrous memory of Wallace, and he listened with an answering order to bruise his exhortation. The prince next disclosed to his now zealously pledged friends the particulars of the Red Cummins treachery.  When falsehood is to be confounded, it is best to grapple with the sorceress in the moment of detection. Should we hesitate, she may elude our grasp. Dumfries was only a few miles distant, and they might reach its convent before the first matins. Fatigue was not felt by Bruce when in pursuit of a great object, and after a slight refreshment he and his four determined friends took horse. As they anticipated, the midnight bell was ringing for prayers when the troops stopped at the Franciscan gate. Lindsay, having been in the Holy Land during the late public struggles, alleged business with the abbot and desire to see him. On the father's bidding the party welcome, Bruce stepped forward and addressed him, Reverend Sir, I come from London. I have an affair to settle with Lord Baronach, and I know by his letters to King Edward that he is secretly lodged in this convent. I therefore command to be conducted to him. This peremptory requisition, with the superior heir of the person who made it, did not leave the abbot room to doubt that he was some illustrious messenger from the King of England, and with hardly a demur he left the other night in the cloister of the church while he left the noble southern as he thought to his kinsmen. The treacherous regent had just retired from the refractory to his own apartment as the abbot conducted the stranger into his presence. Bannonach started frowningly from his seat at such unusual intrusion. Bruce's visor was closed, and the ecclesiastic perceiving the regent's displeasure dispersed it by announcing the visitant as a messenger from King Edward. Then leave us together, returned he, unwilling that even this, his convenient kinsmen, should know the extent of his treason against this country. The abbot had hardly closed the door when Bruce, whose indignant soul burned to utter his full contempt of the wretch before him, hastily advanced to speak. But the cautious Bannonach, fearful that the father might yet be within hearing, put his finger to his lips. Bruce paused and listened gloomily to the departing steps of the abbot. When they were no more heard, with one hand raising his visor, and the other grasping the scroll of detection. Thus, basest of the base race of come-in, exclaimed he, you may for a moment elude the universal shame which awaits your crimes. At sight of the fate, on hearing the words of Bruce, the unmanly coward uttered a cry of terror, and rushed toward the door. You pass not here, continued the prince, till I have laid open all your guilt, till I have pronounced you the doom, due to a treacherous friend and treacherous subject. Infatuated Bruce exclaimed Bannonach, assuming an air of insulted friendship, not that he found escape impossible. What false tongue has persuaded you to a rain one, who has ever been but too faithful the adherent of your desperate fortunes. I have laboured in secret, day and night in your service, and thus am I repaid. Bruce smiled disdainfully at this poor attempt to deceive him, and as he stood with his back against the door, he opened the murderous packet, and read from it all its contents. Come-in turned pale and reared at each sentence. And at last Bruce closing it. Now then, faithful adherent of Robert Bruce cried he, Say what the man deserves, who, in these blood-red lines, petitions the death of his lawful prince, O thou Arsh Regicide, doth not my very look kill thee. Bannonach, his complexion turning of a livid hue, and his voice faltering, attempted to deny the letter having been his handwriting, or that he had any concern in the former Embassy to Edward. Then finding that these falsehoods only irritated Bruce to higher indignation, and fearful of being immediately sacrificed to his just resentment, he threw himself on his knees, and confessing each transaction, implored his life in pity to the natural desire of self-preservation, which alone had precipitated him to so ungrateful a proceeding. O added he, even this danger I have incurred upon your account, for your ultimate advantage did I bring on my head the petals which now fill me with dismay. Love alone for you made me hasten the execution of William Wallace, that insidious friend, who would have crept from your bosom into your throne. And then, fear of your mistaking in the motives of so good a service, betrayed me to throw myself into the arms of Edward. Burry thyself in crimes there foulest traitor, deep in the depths of hell cried the Prince, starting away with a tremendous gesture, out of my sight for ever, that I may not pollute thys hands with thy monstrous blood. Till this moment Bruce was ignorant that Barranach had been the instigator in the murder of Wallace, and forgetting all his own personal wrongs in this more mighty injury, with tumultuous horror, he turned from the coward to avoid the self-blame of stabbing an unarmed wretch at his feet. But at that moment Cummin, who believed his doom only suspended, rose from his knee, and drawing his dirk from underneath his plaid, struck it into the back of the Prince. Bruce turned on him with a quickness of thought, exclaimed he, seizing him by the throat. Then take thy fate. This accursed deed hath removed the only barrier between vengeance and thee. Thus remember William Wallace. As the Prince spoke, he plunged his dagger into the breast of the traitor. Cummin uttered a fearful cry, and rolled down at his feet, murmuring imprecations. Bruce fled from the spot. It was the first time his arm had drawn blood, except in the field of battle, and he felt as if the base tide had contaminated his hand, in the cloisters he was encountered by his friends. A few words informed them of what had happened. Is he dead, inquired Cove Patrick? I can hardly doubt it, answered Bruce. Such a matter, returned the veteran, must not be left to conjecture. I will secure him. Footnote. In memory of this circumstance, the crest of the family of Cove Patrick is a hand grasping a dagger, distilling gouts of blood, the motto, I am Max Sicker. End footnote. And running forward he found the wounded regent crawling from the door of the cell. Throwing himself upon him without noise, he stabbed him to the heart. Before the catastrophe was known in the convent, Bruce and his friends had left it some time, and were far on their road to Loch Mavon. They arrived before sunrise, and once more an inmate of his paternal castle. He then dispatched Fleming to Lord Ruthven, with a transcript of his designs. In the same packet he enclosed a letter for the Lady Isabel. It contained this brave resolution, that in his present return to Scotland he did not consider himself merely as Robert Bruce, come to reclaim the throne of his ancestors, but as the executor of the last dying will of Sir William Wallace, which was, that Bruce should confirm the independence of Scotland, or fall, as Wallace had done, invincible at his post. Till that freedom is accomplished continued the virtuous Prince. I will never shake the steadfast purpose of my soul by even one glance at thy life endearing beauties. I am Wallace's soldier, Isabel, as he was Heaven's, and while my captain looks on me from above, shall I not approve myself worthy his example.  You shall come to me as the Angel of Peace, and in one hour we will receive the nobchal benediction and the vows of our people. The purport of the Prince's letter to Ruthven was well adapted to the strain of the foregoing. He then announced his intention of proceeding immediately to the Plain of Sterling, and there, putting himself at the head of his loyal Scots, declare himself their lawful sovereign, and proclaim to the world that he acknowledged no legal superior, but the great being whose vice regent he was. From that centre of his kingdom he would make excursions to its furthest extremities, and give God's will, either drive his enemies from the country, or perish with a sword in his hand, as became the descendant of William the Lion, as became the friend of William Wallace. Ruthven lay encamped on the cast of Gowery when this letter was delivered to him. He read it aloud to his assembled chieftains, and, with waving bonnets, they hailed the approach of their valiant Prince. Bothwell alone, whose soul devoted attachment to Wallace, could not be superseded by any other affection, allowed his bonnet to remain inactive in his hand. But with the fervour of true loyalty he thanked God, for thus bringing the sovereign whom his friend loved to bind in one the contending interests of his country, to rest from the hand of that friend's assassin, the scepter for which he had died them so deep in blood. The Scottish Chiefs by Miss Jane Porter Chapter 88 Sterling. The word of Bruce was as irreversible as his spirit was determined. No temptation of indulgence could seduce him from the one. No misschance of adversity could subdue the other. The standard of liberty had been raised by him on the cars of Gowery, and he carried it in his victorious arm from east to west, from the most northern point of Sutherland to the walls of Sterling. But there, the garrison which the treason of the late region had admitted into the citadel, gave a momentary check to his career. The English Governor hesitated to surrender on the terms proposed, and while his first flag of truce was yet in the tent of the Scottish monarch, a second arrived to break off the negotiation. Whatever were the reasons for this abrupt determination, Bruce paid him not the compliment of asking wherefore, but advancing his troops to the southern outposts, drove them in with great loss, and approaching the lower works of the town by the road of Balakgeesh, so alarmed the Governor, as to induce him to send forth several squadrons of horse to stop his progress. Vane was the attempt. They shrunk before the Resolute Prince, and his enthusiastic followers. The Governor dispatched others, and at last marched himself out to their support. No force seemed able to withstand the pressing valor of the Scots. The Sutherland saw himself in the midst of his slain and deserted by half of his surviving troops. A surrender, both of himself and his fainting companions, was now his only recourse. His herald sounded a parley. The generous victor in the midst of triumph listened to the offered capitulation. It was not to include the citadel of Stirling. Bruce stopped the herald at this clause, and at once demanded the unconditional surrender of both the town and the citadel. The Governor, being aware that in his present state there was no alternative, and knowing the noble nature of the Prince who made the requisition, yielded to necessity and resigned the whole into his hands. Next morning, Bruce entered Stirling as a conqueror, with the whole of his kingdom at his feet, for, from the slow wave furth to the northern ocean, no Scottish town or castle owned a foreign master. The acclamations of a rescued people rent the skies, and, while prayers and blessings poured on him from above, below and around he did indeed feel himself a king, and that he had returned to the land of his forefathers. While he sat on his proud war horse in front of the great gates of the citadel, now thrown wide, asunder to admit its rightful sovereign, his noble prisoners came forward. They bent their knees before him, and delivering their swords received in turn his gracious assurance of mercy. At this moment, all Scottish hearts and wishes seemed riveted on their youthful monarch. Dismounting from his steed, he raised his helmet from his head. As the souls of his enemies, he raised his helmet from his head, as the Bishop of Dunkel, followed by all the ecclesiastics in the town, came forward to wait upon the triumph of their king. The beautiful anthem of the virgins of Israel on the conquests of David was chanted forth by the nuns, who in this heaven hallowed hour, like the spirits of the blessed, revisited the world to give the chosen of their land. All hail, the words, the scenes smote the heart of Bothwell. He turned aside and wept, where were now the buoyant feelings with which he had followed the similar triumph of Wallace into these gates. Buried, thou martyred hero, in thy bloody grave, new man and new services seemed to have borne out remembrance of the past. But in the memories of even this joyous crowd, Wallace lived, though like a bright light which had passed through their path, and was gone never more to return. On entering the citadel, Bruce was informed by Möbre, the English governor, that he would find a lady there in a frightful state of mental derangement and who might need his protection. A question or two from the victorious monarch told him that this was the Countess of Strathen. On the revolted abthanes, having betrayed Wallace and his country to England, the joy and ambition of the Countess knew no bounds, and hoping to eventually persuade Edward to adjudge to her the crown, she made it apparent to the English king how useful would be her services to Scotland, while with a plenary though secret mission, she took her course through her native land to discover who were inimical to the foreign interests and who likely to promote her own after this circuit. She fixed her mimic court at Stirling, and living there in real magnificence exercised the function of a vice queen. At this period, intelligence arrived which the governor thought would fill her with exultation, and hastening to declare it, he proclaimed to her that the King of England's authority was now firmly established in Scotland, for that on the 23rd of August Sir William Wallace had been executed in London, according to all the forms of law upon the Tower of Gale. On the full declaration of this event, she fell senseless on the floor. It was not until the next morning that she recovered to perfect animation, and then her ravings were horrible and violent. She accused herself of the murder of Sir William Wallace.  In these fearful moments, the dreadful confession of all her premeditated guilt, of her infuriated and disappointed passion for Wallace, and her vowed revenge were revealed, under circumstances so shocking that the English governor declared to the King of Scots, while he conducted him toward her apartment, that he would rather wear out his life in a rail-less dungeon than endure one hour of her agonies. There was a dead silence in her chamber as they approached the door. Mobré cautiously opened it and discovered the object of their visit. She was seated at the further end of the room on the floor, enveloped in a mass of scarlet velvet she had drawn off her bed, her hands clasped her knees, and she bent forward with her eyes fixed on the door at which they entered. Her once dazzling beauty was now transformed to a haggard glare. The terrible lightning which gleamed on the face of Satan, when he sat brooding on the burning marl of Tataris. She remained motionless as they advanced, but when Bruce stopped directly before her, contemplating with horror the woman whom he regarded as one of the murderers of his most beloved friend, he sprung at once upon him, and, clinging to him with shrieks, buried her head in his bosom. Save me, save me, she cried.   Then bursting from Bruce, with an implication that froze his blood, she flew to the other side of the chamber crying aloud, Thou hast torn out my heart, fiend. I took thee for Wallace, but I murdered him. Her agonies, her yells, her attempts at self-violence were now so dreadful that Bruce, raising her bleeding from the hearth on which she had furiously dodged her head, put her into the arms of the men who attended her, and then, with an awful sense of divine retribution, left the apartment.


Ladies and gentlemen welcome back to full metal alchemist brotherhood. My name is jack you can call me I should know be today We have a part 2 episode 8 is advance of the full things have been ramping up like crazy lately again We said like it kind of felt like last episode was the beginning of something new was this breath of fresh air And for basically everyone that found out that this whole thing that they thought previously where how they brought their mom back Wasn't actually hurt like it's not possible to there's still a lot to learn about this Like the alchemy behind bringing someone back from the dead They made some grand discoveries last episode that changes the course of everything changes their entire mental I'm excited to get into it to see what this new step They're gonna take is now a lot of people are recognizing the corruption that's at stake Especially with Mustang at the helm of everything. He's recognized that he's taking precautions with everything I'm excited feels like a chess match honestly, and yeah, let's hop right in Oh, we're actually interesting.  Okay It's bad enough you believed her, but then you gave up got to stay strong Don't you ever give up on living need to know you can keep your cool no matter what must things looking good I'm gonna continue to rely on you to watch my back. You ought to think about taking your own advice colonel You were the one who abandoned his post He lived oh my gosh Are we even in the same room? I cannot believe he lived. I should have my own room I thought he definitely died try to understand to guard the two of you in the same place Why haven't they tried to kill us yet? Also true. They're very vulnerable right now Why didn't he ever It's not too late to kill him. So get to it. We can use my stain.  Hold on. He's a puzzle piece The portal don't need to worry about it and forget Mustang father wants me to handle him Why did it cut the whole inheim is he father is he father I eat they only make sense that he is dude But I just don't I don't know dude. I hate it so much so many questions It's stinky bro, that's his main concern. He'll be like out of shape I think getting the body back is the main thing first It's a slim chance think it's possible our spirits might have gotten tangled up in the process. Oh, wait, what do you say? I'm trying to explain that our bodies might be connected somehow even though. I'm here in your body Yeah, I was going to say there that might actually explain why I'm so sure That shows he's come a long way Well, what's your maybe that's why he eats so much use to drink your milk start with that again It seems like brother is always sleeping. Huh. I wonder if his body could be resting from mine as well Wow, I didn't think about that honestly. That's why he eats so much, too That'd be wild if it's like somehow leaching off of him in order to keep it alive Mr. Havoc is recovering to we figured we should pay our respects. I definitely owe it to the colonel I counted the number of steps it took to get to the basement third laboratory And I was able to calculate the approximate location of that doorway I was able to deduce a radius with the lab at the same they know that that's like the main This is even more alarming the presidential estate they know right above where we found the homunculi. There's a very real possibility The furor is connected to They know why did he kill greed in his group if he's connected to them alibi Or no cuz greed new greed was like kind of rogue one things for sure The enemy's infiltrated high of the command so extreme caution is necessary at all. At least they don't completely count out Bradley Watch yourself. I wasn't sure if they would him being the top of the chain It's like I'm starting to worry that it's too big confident about it like a smile I hope you're ready to work yourselves ragged about that colonel You're gonna have to count me out what work requires legs and I can't feel mine. Oh feels bad But I'm retired. Oh, he's alive. I didn't I thought he died Okay, but now that we know that they're not targeting Mustang Cuz I think they can use him back problems I can't stand all the standing that comes with being coroner or in our okay I get a sinking feeling when I heard you were the person that scorched that thing Are you plotting something you suspect a plot? But you still I did the thing is Maria Ross three cheers for old war buddies more like accomplices We treated them like rats and ishfall was the lab. Hmm. I know you like to play with fire But someone will get burnt if you push this too far nice corner Play with fire We're having Family owns a grocery store and I can at least take calls at least he finds some purpose Actually, though the nerves in my lower spine are completely severed. Oh, and they can't make those out of steel The retired life doesn't suit you still a soldier at heart. There's still hope for havoc Full metal passes on it. What? Dr. Marco, huh? Oh Medical alchemist in possession of a philosopher stone. Should I find him?  How did you enjoy your vacation to the east? You slip sink you don't say a word I'm strong scenery was That's exactly what mustangs said just a ride from the provost Marshall's office. It's an urgent bulletin for all state alchemists What is it? Dude? I'm strong with the arms. That's probably the person I trust most in this show if anything I was a state alchemist right in with no questions asked. Did you find the basement?  They're looking for alchemists that managed to open the portal and make it back out alive Your question is why they want to sacrifice us Like their souls mad or more maybe because they've been to that after-life type thing before and they know that I found you should go back to your hotel right now. I can escort you if you want me to this thing somebody go down He made it it's been so long since we see them There's the man That's scar killed winery's parents. Yeah, I know for certain, but that's the way it looks Yeah, I was gonna say will he tell Winery I couldn't stand to be the one to make I feel like that would only bring up like past Emotions that she wouldn't want but also does he owe it to her thing? I want to do but we have to confront scar to find out if he did it Well, that's one reason but there is another lower out the homunculi with scar.  I don't know about Mustang for a sacrifice But Mustang just in general You've got better odds with more help. I'm serious about this. I appreciate link Extending a helping hand like I said they can take anyone they can get I feel like Ling is most trustworthy more trustworthy than others He's not involved Oh, she's leaving maybe you should stay Just thought about scar literally obliterating him Love that that was adorable. Oh my god.  I trust literally nobody I've decided to go ahead with my retirement.  I mean Don't you look at me like that forget about me move on already You don't have time to worry about me You need to think about the promise you made to General Hughes instead of pity You feel so hopeless that like whenever people are like, oh, maybe there's a chance. It's like just no It's frustrating for him. Yeah, thank you. All right loose It feels bad. I'll leave you behind so you can catch up. Hmm. It's the last hope for him, but I'll see you at the top Not like Mustang to really give up on someone. Yeah, I didn't even think about turning his back on me I have given up on living. It's not in him to abandon others dude.  He's not gonna make it to the top. It's country. I'll chew that with a part that pure Yeah, well, I don't know about that This country needs a fool like that. I need I need him and Hawkeye to make it to the end together, man Bring me my uniform, but you're not ready to leave the hospital yet. Just go get it At this point Mustang feels like a secondary emcee to Ed I guess Ed and Al's like a tertiary Is this commercial? Hashtag add? Vaz What is happening? Is he making commercials? Does he need spare shit? Oh wait, he said no payment What a community man He's trying to gain favor with the people I'm pretty sure everyone He wants to lure lure people out become so theatrical Shouldn't you still be in the hospital? I heard about lieutenant Havoc. I'm sure dr. Marco. Hold on people are watching us I never know who's listening Let's get out or Al Dr. Marco's gone missing looks like it. He probably took him captive. I did actually know he's useful for information You've heard that scars back. So what's with the show but want him to find you? Yeah, that's exactly what I was walking up. I need to fight him and you can't talk me out Have you lost your mind? Did you forget the way he tore you apart in East City? I'm sorry He think it was raining the way your forehead's dripping Don't shoot lieutenant.  What are you going to? He understands that too shot the MPs might get here before the homunculation But you can stop that from happening. Can't you Colonel? So now I take orders from you Now you're Alice bond you had better plan on sharing what you catch There's scars. It's like in the middle of the day going after and because of this theatrics Townhouse is close by come on. Let's go. There's a link This link is there for backup. Oh Oh That's what links there for maybe to take out these secondaries. I shoot yeah I keep this up. I don't think scar would just let a bullet hit him It's the provost marshals. Are they gonna come out? I don't think they're going to Is impersonation Mustang having fun sector 17 and what about sector three Colonel Douglas. He's in sector eight now. What's that MPHQ calling sector? A car is currently fighting a young man. The young man is a state outcome a young man Bradley knows he knows You know is exactly what's happening come. They're luring them out. It's working technically you could deal it too, right? Oh, yes, but it's time to move link nose Dude everyone is there everyone.  I think it's freaking gross There's the able to detect his presence are you I Do where are the citizens No You can't get away from Bradley. Where is this girl wasn't she with scar wait the girl with the panda was her name I forgot her name. It's been so many episodes that we see even seen scar that like what's her place? Oh my gosh We are seeing the confrontation of Bradley and Gluttony with a link and baiting out the homunculi with scar That's like everything right there full circle like I feel like anything that comes out of this is going to be public information Like Bradley's identity has to be exposed that he's just out and about with Gluttony like they're right in the middle of the city This isn't some random sewer that happened beforehand. Of course Bradley's a very smart man though He knows what he's doing That's why he killed greed because he knew greed wasn't part of it anymore No one's aware of that greed was like kind of basically like a rogue sin at that point That's why whenever they were talking about like but why would he kill greed because it plants that seed of down their minds My goodness is like I said, it's just a big chess game using people as pawns I mean even Ed and Al using Mustang as a pawn to a certain extent. It's crazy, man Next episode is going to be like the confrontation of everyone seemingly guys I hope you're enjoying the series as much as I am get I'm excited to get into more of it Well, I guess like a lay said we're like a third of the way through so we're really making progress I love you guys so so much. Thank you for hanging out watching the series with me And I'll see you in the next one. Peace. Peace