Alright folks, I know I'm super late to the party on this, but I couldn't pass up an opportunity to talk about this because I feel like this Right here that we're gonna address it Really just encapsulates everything that's wrong with liberals who worship the Democratic Party Who are sick of fans to the Democratic Party and think that they Can do no wrong ever regardless of how wrong they are Assuming you actually do believe the things you purport to believe So Marcos Molitzis who is the founder of the Daily Coast who once delivered Thousands of roses to Nancy Pelosi something that he should be made fun of for the rest of his life for him he was commenting on the DNC convention and He said something that should worry anyone who actually cares about consistency. He tweeted this out I'm all about rubbing it in GOP space that our nominee actually goes to church Ours is now objectively the party of faith family values and national defense Let's read that last part again. Our nominee is objectively the party of faith family values and national defense Who do you think this is going to appeal to how many evangelical Christian? Republicans do you think are going to come over to our side our side because of this Because Joe Biden is more religious than Donald Trump Who cares Why do you care about this? first and foremost understand that There's bigotry that's inherent with this tweet because you're basically Taking this position that it is inherently good to be religious Therefore people who don't have a religion people who are atheist or anti-theist or agnostic They're Worse they're not as good as people who are religious So understand that that's a right-wing position to take up a second of all He is happy about the prospect of our side embracing of what the Republican Party had embraced national defense Okay, that should be a given for any party, but we know the Implications of what he's saying here. We're the party who's going to more responsibly Steer the US Empire in the direction that we wanted to go family values. I don't know if he realizes this but family values has Very sexist and homophobic implications when we're saying family values We mean the nuclear family. We mean a family where there was a man and a woman not two men So when Republicans said, oh, you know, we're the party of family values They are excluding gay families out, right? They're even it's excluding the prospect of women You know subverting their traditional gender roles and getting jobs outside of the family Like this is a traditional thing that Republicans promoted But now you're saying no, we're the party of family values.  Like do you want? Democrats to just straight up become evangelicals and start openly courting evangelicals To own Donald Trump because orange man bad like what do you want out of this?  We all know that he's never read the Bible But guess what evangelicals still love Donald Trump They still love Donald Trump because he delivers what they want the most policy Abortion so you know what it doesn't matter that he's had 15 affairs on his three wives I'm you know spitballing here, but I mean they don't care about the hypocrisy because whenever a Religious person sees something that they view as a moral they just chalk it up to well Nobody's perfect and God forgives so they explain it away very easily So I don't understand from a strategic standpoint and what he expects to get out of this like if you truly want to take all of the Republican Party's base like You can do that by just like openly embracing conservatism like what's next would you be laughing if? Joe Biden came out against abortion because we're owning Republicans and we are you know, we're eating into that evangelical base like what do you want out of this? This is why people hate Democrats you understand that right Marcos This is why people don't respect the party because you stand for nothing You're able to adjust where you are on that political spectrum Depending on whether or not it's politically expedient There's no like adherence to core principles or values in spite of how much we hear the word values Like there's nothing we're a big 10 party according to you and Democrats and that's a good thing It should be celebrated except sometimes when that tent is so big then you lose Coherency you stand for nothing if you stand for everything So for you to say how wonderful it is that we could just rub it in their faces that our party is now Objectively the party of faith family values and national defense.  So if we nominated Mitt Romney going against Donald Trump You'd still be proud of Democrats for that because you know Mitt Romney is objectively better on policy than Donald Trump You would say well, you know, this is our guy So I have to defend him no matter what and everything that he does is good by definition Because he's on my team and my team is good. The other team is bad Like how far could we go down this rabbit hole? Like if the Democratic Party just reversed their stance on marriage equality and they said, you know what? We're gonna fight against marriage equality Like would you be in favor of that because you know all of a sudden now They're the party of family values like you have to understand that if you stand for nothing Then voters are going to see that right? That's why Democrats are struggling to get their base and foods about Joe Biden because everything that he does stand for is What's wrong with society? This is the architect of the crime bill. He voted for the Iraq war. I Just don't understand what the end game is here, right?  Scold Joe Biden and Democrats for not doing enough to appeal to those third-party voters. They like to berate Why is it always the responsibility of you know, the voters and not the politicians? Like I mean everything is backwards nowadays Like the voters are supposed to be the ones who should be there for politicians who you know can't let down politicians It's not the other way around. It's not that if Hillary Clinton or Joe Biden fails possibly That he's the one to blame because he's courting Republicans and ignoring the left-wing base and not trying to excite young people You know, it's young people. They were the ones who failed Joe Biden or Hillary Clinton it's just this type of Loyalist behavior this Sycophantic disgusting behavior is exactly why Democrats lose and why people hate them young people Because of course, we don't support Republicans because they're insane But you know the way to appeal to young people who are you know, disillusioned with the Democratic Party is not to be more like Republicans I shouldn't have to say this that you know Democrats becoming the Republican Party of the late 90s in 2000. It's a bad thing, but apparently here we are Trump is bad. So because he's so bad every other Republican is good so long as they anti-Trump Anything that Trump might be against will by definition That's something we have to embrace so if Donald Trump says I Support trans rights because he said it. It's bad all of a sudden because we stand for nothing We're just anti-Trump and if the party wants to take us in that direction I have to follow because I am loyal to the party until the end. I Mean Jesus Christ like loyalty is a virtue that we all Appreciate but there has to be a line you have to have some standards and this dude has no standards Otherwise, you wouldn't have sent thousands of roses to Nancy Pelosi.


CHAPTER V. PLANIC CASEL The women and the men who age withheld from so desperate enterprise, now thronged around Halbert to ask a circumstantial account of the disaster which had filled all with so much horror. Many tears followed his recital. Not one of his auditors was an indifferent listener. All had individually, or in persons dear to them, partaken of the tender Marian's benevolence.  Her voice had often administered consolation to their sorrows. Her hand had smoothed their pillows, and placed the crucifix before their dying eyes. Some had recovered to bless her, and some had departed to record her virtues in heaven. Ah! Is she gone? cried a young woman, racing her face, covered with tears, from the bosom of her infant. Is the loveliest lady that ever the sun shone upon, cold in the grave? Alas for me! She it was that gave me the roof under which my baby was born. She it was who, when the southern soldiers slew my father, and drove us from our home in Ayrshire, gave to my old mother, and my then-wounded husband, our cottage by the vernside. Ah! Well, can I spare him now to avenge her murder? The night being far advanced, Halbert retired, at the invitation of this young woman, who repose on the heather-bed of her husband, who was now absent with Wallace. The rest of the peasantry withdrew to their covets, while she and some other women, whose anxieties would not allow them to sleep, sat at the cavern's mouth, watching the slowly moving hours. The objects of their fond and fervent prayers, Wallace and his little army, were rapidly pursuing their march. It was midnight, all was silent as they hurried through the glen, as they ascended with flying footsteps the steeper clivities that led to the cliffs, which overhung the veil of Ellersley. Wallace must pass along their brow. Beneath was the tomb of his sacrificed Marian. He rushed forward to snatch one look, even of the roof which shrouded her beloved remains. But in the moment before he mounted the intervening height, a soldier in English armour crossed the path, and were seized by his men. One of them would have cut him down, but Wallace turned away the weapon. "'Hold, Scott,' cried he. "'You are not a southern to strike the defenseless. The man has no sword. The reflection on their enemy, which this plea of mercy contained, reconciled the impetuous Scots to the clemency of their leader. The rescued man, joyfully recognizing the voice of Wallace, exclaimed, "'It is my lord. It is Sir William Wallace that has saved my life a second time.' "'Who are you?' asked Wallace. "'That helmet can cover no friend of mine.' "'I am your servant, Dugald,' returned the man. He whom your brave arm, same from the battle axe, of Arthur Helsall-Rigger. "'I cannot ask how you came by that armour. But if he be yet a Scott, throw it off and follow me.' "'Not to Ellersley,' my lord,' cried he. "'It has been plundered and burned to the ground by the Governor of Lanark.' "'Then,' exclaimed Wallace, striking his breast, "'are the remains of my beloved Marian, for ever ravished from my eyes, insatiate monster.' "'He is Scotland's curse,' cried the veteran of Lags. "'Forward, my lord, in mercy to your country's groans.' Wallace had now mounted the craig, which overlooked Ellersley. His once happy home had disappeared, and all beneath lay a heap of smoking ashes. He hastened from the sight, and directing the pointy-beast sword with a forceful action toward Lanark, re-echoed with supernatural strength. "'Forward!' With the rapidity of lightning his little host flew over the hills, reached the cliffs which divided them from the town, and leaped down before the outward trench of the castle of Lanark. In a moment Wallace sprung so feeble a barrier, and with a shout of death, in which the tremendous slogan of his men, now joined, he rushed upon the guard that held the northern gate. He a-slept the governor, their opponents being slain by the first sweep of the Scottish swords. Wallace hastened onward, winged with twofold retribution. The noise of battle was behind him, for the shouts of his men had aroused the garrison, and drawn its soldiers half naked to the spot. He reached the door of the governor. The sentinel who stood there flew before the terrible warrior that presented himself. All the mighty vengeance of Wallace blazed in his face and seemed to surround his figure with a terrible splendour. With one stroke of his foot he drove the door from its hinges and rushed into the room. Not a sight for the now awakened and guilty Helsall Rigger.  With the terrific scream of despair, and an outcry for the mercy he dared not expect, he fell back into the bed, and sought an unavailing shield beneath its foals. Marion, Marion, cried Wallace, as he threw himself toward the bed, and buried the sword, yet red with her blood, through the coverlet, deep into the heart of her murderer. A fiend-like yell from the slain Helsall Rigger told him his work was done, and drawing out the sword he took the streaming blade in his hand. Vengeance is satisfied, cried he. Thus, O God, do I henceforth divide self from my heart. As he spoke he snapped the sword in twain, and, throwing away the pieces, put back with his hand the impending weapons of his grave companions, who, having cleared the passage of their assailants, had hurried forward to assist in ridding their country of so detestable a tyrant. As done, cried he. As he spoke he drew down the coverlet, and discovered the body of the governor, weltering in blood.  Wallace turned away, but the men exulting in the sight with a shout of triumph exclaimed, so fall the enemies of Sir William Wallace. Never to fall the enemies of Scotland, cried he. From this hour Wallace has neither love nor resentment but for her. Heaven has heard me devote myself to work our country's freedom or to die. Who will follow me in so just a cause? All with Wallace forever. The new clamour which this resolution excited, intimidated a fresh band of soldiers who were hastening across the courtyard to seek the enemy in the governor's apartments, but on the noise they hastily retreated and no exertions of their officers could prevail on them to advance again or even to appear in sight when the resolute Scots with Wallace at their head soon afterward issued from the Great Gate. The English commanders, seeing the panic of their men, and which they were less able to surmount on account of the way to the gate being strewn with their slain comrades, fell back into the shadow of the towers where, by the light of the moon, like men paralysed, they viewed the departure of their enemies over the trenches. In the rain-craigs the sun was rising from the eastern hills when the victorious group re-entered the mountain glen where their families lay. The cheerful sounds of their bugles aroused the sleepers from their caves and many with the gratulations and embraces which welcomed the warriors to affection and repose. Wallace, while he threw himself along a bed of purple heath, gathered for him by many a busy female hand, listened with a calmed mind to the fond inquiries of Halbert, who, awakened by the first blast of the horn, had started from his shelter and hastened to hail the safe return of his master. While his faithful followers retired each to the bosom of his rejoicing family, the fugitive chief of Ellersley remained alone with the old man and recounted to him the success of his enterprise and the double injuries he had avenged. The assassin, continued he, has paid with his life for his inexpayable crime. He is slain and with him several of Edward's garrison. My vengeance may be appeased, but what, O Halbert, can bring redress to my widowed heart? All is lost to me. I have now nothing to do with this world, but I say maybe the instrument of good to others. The Scottish sword has now been redrawn against our foes, and with the blessing of heaven I swear it shall not be sheathed, till Scotland be rid of the tyranny which has slain my happiness. This night my gallant scots have sworn to accomplish my vow, and death or liberty must be the future fate of Wallace and his friends. But these words tears ran down the cheeks of the venerable Harper, alas my too-brave master exclaimed he. What is it you would do? Why rush upon certain destruction? For the sake of her memory whom you deplore, in pity to the worthy Earl of Mar, who will arraign himself as the cause of all these calamities, and of your death should you fail, retract this desperate vow? No, my good Halbert, returned Wallace. I am neither desperate nor inefficient, and you faithful creature shall have no cause to mow on this night's resolution. Go to Lord Mar and tell him what are my resolves. I have nothing now that binds me to life but my country, and henceforth she shall be to me as mistress, wife, and child. Would you deprive me of this tie, Halbert? Would you, by persuading me to resign my interest in her, devote me to a hermit's seclusion amongst these rocks? For I will never again appear in the tracks of men, if it be not as the defender of her writes. But where, my master, shall we find you, should the Earl choose to join you with his followers? In this wilderness, whence I shall not remove rashly, my purpose is to save my countrymen, not to sacrifice them in needless dangers? Halbert oppressed with sorrow at the images his foreboding heart drew of the direful scenes in which his beloved master had pledged himself to become the leader, bowed his head with submission, and leaving Wallace to his rest, retired to the mouth of the cavern to weep alone. It was noon before the chief awoke from the death-like sleep into which kind nature had plunged his lung-harrest senses. He opened his eyes languidly, and when the sight of his rocky apartment forced on him the recollection of all his miseries he uttered a deep groan, that sad sound so different from the jockened voice with which Wallace used to issue from his rest struck on the heart of Halbert. He drew near his master to receive his last commands for Bothwell. On my knees added he, will I implore the Earl to send you, sucker? He needs not prayers for that, returned Wallace, but depart, dear worthy Halbert.  Old age opens the fountains of tears. Halbert's flowed profusely, and bathed his master's hand. Could Wallace have wept? It would have been then. But that gently molliantive grief was denied to him, and with a voice of assumed cheerfulness he renewed his efforts to encourage his desponding servant. Half persuaded that a superior being did indeed call his beloved master to some extraordinary exertions for Scotland. But bade him an anxious farewell, and then withdrew to commit him to the fidelity of the companions of his destiny. A few of them led the old man on his way, as far as the western declivity of the hills, and then, bidding him good speed, he took the remainder of his journey alone. After traversing many a weary mile between Cartlain Craig's and Bothwell Castle, he reached the valley in which that fortress stands, and calling to the water at his gate, that he came from Sir William Wallace, was immediately admitted and conducted into the castle. Halbert was led by a servant into a spacious chamber where the earl lay on a couch. A lady richly habited, and in the bloom of life sat at his head, another much younger, and of resplendent beauty, knelt at his feet, with a salve of medicinal cordials in her hand. The lady Marian's loveliness had been that of a soft moonlit evening. But the face which now turned upon Halbert as he entered was full of light and splendour and joy, and the old man's eyes, even though dimmed in tears, were dazzled. A young man stood near her. On the entrance of Halbert, whom the earl instantly recognized, he raised himself on his arm and welcomed him. The young lady rose, and the young man stepped eagerly forward. The earl inquired anxiously for Sir William Wallace, and asked if he might expect him soon at Bothwell. He cannot come yet, my lord, replied Halbert. Hard is the task he has laid upon his valiant head. But he is avenged. He has slain the governor of Lanark. A fraint exclamation broke from the lips of the young lady. How demanded the earl? Halbert now gave a particular account of the anguish of Wallace, when he was told of the sanguinary events which had taken place at Ellersley, as the honest harper described in his own ardent language. The devoted zeal with which the shepherds on the heights took up arms to avenge the rung done to their chief. The countenance of the young lady and of the youth glowed through tears. They looked on each other, and Halbert proceeded. When my dear master and his valiant troop were pursuing their way to Lanark, he was met by Dugald, the wounded man who had rushed into the room to appraise us of the advance of the English forces. During the confusion of that horrible night and in the midst of the contention, in spite of his feebleness he crept away and concealed himself from the soldiers amongst the bushes of the glen. When all was over he came from his hiding-place, and finding the English soldier's helmet and cloak, poor Dugald, still fearful of falling in with any struggling party of hassle-rigors, disguised himself in these southern clothes. Armed with hunger he was venturing toward the house in search of food, when the sight of armed men in the hall made him hastily retreat into his former place of refuge. His alarm was soon increased by a redoubled noise from the house. Oath's and horrid burst of meliment seemed to have turned that once abode of honour and of loveliness into the clamorous haunts of rivalry and repine. In the midst of the uproar he was surprised by seeing flames issue from the windows. Soldiers poured from the doors with shouts of triumph, some carried off the booty, and others watched by the fire till the interior of the building was consumed, and the rest sunk a heap of smoking ruins. The work completed, those horrid ministers of devastation left the veil to its own solitude. Dugald, after waiting a long time to ascertain they were quite gone, crawled from the bushes and descending the cliffs, he was speeding to the mountain's wind, encountering our armed shepherds, then he took him from an English soldier and seized him. The chief of Ruin Ellersley recognised his servant, and with redoubled indignation his followers heard the history of the mouldering ashes before them. Brave persecuted Wallace exclaimed the Earl, how dearly was my life purchased, but proceed, Halbert, tell me that he returned safe from Lannock. Halbert now recounted the dreadful scenes which took place in that town, and that when the Governor fell Wallace made a vow never to mingle with the world again till Scotland should be free. Alas! cried the Earl. What miracle is to affect that? Surely he will not bury those noble qualities, that prime of manhood, within the gloom of a cloister. No, my lord, he has retired to the fastnesses of Cart lane creeks. Why, resumed Ma, why did he not rather fly to me? This castle is strung, and while one stone of it remains upon another, not all the hosts of England should take him hence. It was not your friendship he doubted return the old man. Love for his country compels him to reject all comfort in which he does not share. His last words to me were these, I have nothing now to do but to assert the liberties of Scotland, and to rid her of her enemies. Go to Lord Ma.  It is all most likely he will ever see a gayen of William Wallace. Should I fall, tell him to look on that, and in my rungs read the future miseries of Scotland, and remember that God armeth the patriot. Tears dropped so fast from the young lady's eyes she was obliged to walk to a window to restrain a more violent burst of grief. Oh, my uncle, cried the youth. Surely the freedom of Scotland is possible. I feel in my soul that the words of the brave Wallace are prophetic. The Earl held the lock of hair in his hands. He regarded it lost in meditation. God armeth the patriot. He paused the gayen, his before pallid cheek taking a thousand animated hues, then raising the sacred present in his lips. Yes, cried he, thy vow shall be performed. And while Donald Ma has an arm to wield a sword, or a man to follow to the field, thou shalt command both him and them. But not as you are, my lord, cried the elder lady. Your wounds are yet unhealed, your fever is still raging. Would it not be madness to expose your safety at such a crisis? I shall not take arms, myself, answered he, till I can bear them to effect. Meanwhile all of my clan and of my friends that I can raise to guard the life of my deliverer and to promote the cause must be summoned. This lock shall be my penne, and what Scotsman will look on that and shrink from his colours. Here Helen, my child, cried he, addressing the young lady. Before tomorrow's dawn have this hair wrought into my banner. It will be a patriot standard, and let his own irresistible words be the motto. God armeth me. Helen advanced with awestruck trepidation, having been told by the earl of the generous valour of Wallace, and of the cruel death of his lady. She had conceived a gratitude and a pity, deeper than language could express, for the man who had lost so much by suckering one so dear to her. She took the lock, waving in bright yellow light upon her hands, and trembling with emotion was leaving the room, when she heard her cousin throw himself on his knees. I beseech you, my ardent uncle, cried he, if you have loved me, or value for my future fame, allow me to be the bearer of your banner to Sir William Wallace. Helen stopped at threshold to hear the reply, you could not, my dear nephew, return the earl. Have asked me any favour. I could grant with so much joy. Tomorrow I will collect the peasantry of Bothwell, and with those and my own followers you shall join Wallace the same night. Ignorant of the horrors of war, and only alive to the glory of the present cause, Helen sympathised in the ardour of her cousin, and with a thrill of sad delight, hurried to her apartment to commence her task, far different with the sentiments of the Countess her stepmother. As soon as Lord Ma had lest this declaration escape his lips, alarmed at the effect so much agitation might have on his enfeebled constitution, and fearful of the perilous cause he ventured thus openly to her spouse, she desired her nephew to take the now-comforted halberd, who was pouring forth his gratitude to the earl for the promptitude of his orders, and see that he was attended with hospitality. When the room was left to the earl and herself she ventured to remonstrate with him upon the facility with which she had become a party in so treasonable a matter. Consider, my lord, continued she, that Scotland is now entirely in the power of the English monarch. His garrisons occupy our towns, his creatures hold every place of trust in the kingdom, and is such a list of oppressions, my dear lady, to be an argument for longer bearing them. Had I, and other Scottish nobles, dared to resist this overwhelming power after the battle of our liberties, kept our own unsheathed within the bulwarks of our mountains, Scotland might now be free. I should not have been insulted by our English tyrants in the streets of Lanark, and to save my life William Wallace would not now be mourning his murdered wife, and without a home to shelter him. Lady Ma put at this observation but resumed, that may be true, but the die is cast, Scotland is lost for ever, and by your attempting to assist your friend in this rash essay to recover it, you will only lose yourself also without preserving him. The project is wild and needless. What would you have? Now that the contention between the two kings is past, now that Baliel has surrendered his crown to Edward, is not Scotland at peace.  I have now seen and felt enough of Edward's jurisdiction. It is time I should awake, and like Wallace, determined to dice for Scotland, or avenger. Lady Ma wept. Cruel Donald, is this the reward of all my love and duty?  Is this the reward of all my love and duty?  Nay, by your infectious example, you stimulate our brother Bathwell's son to head the band that is to join this madman Wallace. How old Joanna cried the earl. What is it I hear?  Was he mad because he prevented the countess of Ma from being a widow? Was he mad because he prevented her children from becoming fatherless? The countess overcome by this cutting reproach, through herself upon her husband's neck. Alas, my lord, cried she, all is madness to me that would plunge you into danger. Think of your own safety, of my innocent twins now in their cradle, should you fall. Think of our brother's feeling when you send his only son to join one he, perhaps, would call a rebel. If Earl Bathwell considered himself a vassal of Edwards, he would not now be with Lord Lahore. From the moment that gallant Highlander retired to our Gileshire, the king of England regarded his adherence with suspicion. Bathwell's present visit to Lahore, you see, is sufficient to sanction the plunder of this castle by the peaceful government you approve. You saw the opening of those proceedings, and had they come to their dreadful issue, where, my dear Joanna, would now be your home, your husband, your children, it was the arm of the brave chief of Ellersley which saved them from destruction. Lady Ma shuddered, I admit the truth of what you say, but oh, is it not hard to put my all to the hazard. To see the bloody field on one side of my beloved Donald, and the mortal scaffold on the other, hush, cried the Earl, it is justice that beckons me, and victory will receive me in her arms. Oh, power above exclaimed he, in the fervour of enthusiasm. Let the victorious field for Scotland be Donald Ma's grave, rather than doom him to live a witness of her miseries. I cannot stay to hear you answer the countess. I must invoke the virgin to give me courage, to be a patriot's wife. At present your words are daggers to me. In uttering this she hastely withdrew, and left the Earl to muse on the past, to concert plans for the pretentious future. Meanwhile, the Lady Helen had retired to her own apartments. Lord Mars Banner, being brought to her from the armory, she sat down to weave into its silken texture the amber locks of the Scottish chief. Admiring their softness and beauty while her needle flew, she pictured to herself the fine countenance they had once adorned. The duller extremities of the hair, which is sadder liquid than that which now dropped from her eyes, and rendered stiff and difficult to entwine with the warp of the silk, seemed to adhere to her fingers. Helen almost shrunk from the touch. Unhappy Lady, she sighed to herself, what a pang must have rent her heart when the stroke of so cruel a death tore her from such a husband. And how must he have loved her when for her sake he thus foreswares all future joys but those which camps and victories may yield? Ah, what would I give to be my cousin Murray to bear this pen and at his side? What would I give to reconcile so admiral a being to happiness again, to weep his griefs or smile him into comfort? To be that man's friend would be a higher honour than to be Edward's queen. Her heart was thus discoursing with itself when a page opened the door for her cousin, who begged admittance. She had just fastened the flowing charge into its azure field, and while embroidering the motto gladly assented. You know not, my good old man, said the gallant Murray to Halbert, as he conducted him across the galleries, what a noble mind is contained in that lovely young creature. I was brought up with her, and to the sweet contagion of her taste do I owe that love of true glory which carries me to the side of Sir William Wallace. The virtuous only can awaken any interest in her heart, and in these degenerate days long might have been its sleep had not the history which my uncle recounted of your brave master aroused her attention and filled her with an admiration equal to my own. I know she rejoices in my present destination, and to prevent her hearing from your own lips all you have now told me of the mild as well as a heroic virtues of my intended commander, all that you have said of the heroism of his wife would be depriving her of a mournful pleasure only to be appreciated by a heart such as hers. The grey-haired bard of Ellersley, who had ever received the dearest reward of his songs in the smiles of its mistress, did not require persuasion to appear before the gentle lady of Mar, or to recite in her ears the story of the departed loveliness fairer than poet ever famed. Helen Rose, as he and her cousin appeared, Murray approved the execution of her work, and Halbert, with a full heart, took the pen in his hand. Ah, little did my dear lady think, exclaimed he, that one of these loved locks would ever be suspended on a staff to lead men to battle. What changes have a few days made?  Had you, then, an opportunity of performing the rites of sepulcher to her remains? No, madam, replied he. After the worthy English soldier now in this castle assisted me to place her precious body in my lord's oratory, I had no opportunity of returning to give her a more holy grave. Alas! cried Helen, then her sacred relics have been consumed in the burning house. I hope not, rejoined Halbert. The chapel I speak of is at some distance from the main building. It was excavated in the rock by Sir Ronald Crawford, who gave the name of Ellersley to this estate, in compliment to Sir William's place of birth in Renfrewshire, and bestowed it on the bridal pair. Since then, the Ellersley of Clydesdale has been as dear to my master as that of Carth, and well it might be, for it was not only the home of all his wedded joys, but under its roof his mother, the Lady Margaret Crawford, drew her first breath. Ah! woe is me! that happy house is now, like herself, reduced cold, cold ashes. She married Sir Malcolm Wallace, and he is gone too. Both the parents of my honoured master died in the bloom of their lives, and a grievous task will it be, to whoever is to tell the good Sir Ronald that the last sweet flower of Ellersley is now cut down, that the noblest branch of his own stem is torn from the soil, to which he had transplanted it, and cast far away into the waste wilderness. The Ellersley in Renfrewshire here referred to, and which was the birthplace of William Wallace, and the hereditary property of his father, Sir Malcolm Wallace, was situated in the Abbey Parish of Paisley, three miles west of the town of Paisley, and nine from Glasgow. A large oak, still called Wallace's oak, stands close to the road from Paisley to Leith, and within a short distance from it once stood the manner of Ellersley. The venerable name is now corrupted into Eldersley, and the estate has become the property of Archibald Spire's Esquire, MP for Renfrewshire. For this topographical account I am indebted to a Renfrewshire gentleman, 1809. The tears of the venerable harper bore testimony to his inward resolve that this messenger should not be himself. Lady Helen, who had fallen into a reverie during the latter part of his speech, now spoke, and with something of eagerness. Then we shall hope, rejoined she, that the oratory has not only escaped the flames, but perhaps the access of the English soldiers, would it not comfort your Lord to have that sweet victim attuned according to the rites of the church? Surely, my lady, but how can that be done? He thinks her remains were lost in the conflagration of Ellersley, and for fear of precipitating him into the new dangers which might have menaced him had he sought to bring away her body, I did not disprove his mistake. Not her body shall be brought away, rejoined Lady Helen, it shall have holy burial. To effect this command my services, exclaimed Marie. Helen thanked him for an assistance which would render the completion of her design easy. The English soldier as guide, and a troop from Bothwell must accompany him. Alas, my young Lord, interposed Helbert, suppose you should meet some of the English still loitering there? And what of that, my honest Helbert, would not I and my trusty band make them clear the way? Is it not to give comfort to the deliverer of my uncle that I seek the Glen, and shall anything in mortal shape make Andrew Murray turn his back? No, Helbert, I was not born on St. Andrew's day for naught, and by his bright cross I swear either to lay Lady Wallace in the tomb of my ancestors, or to leave my bones to bleach on the grave of hers. Helen loved the resolution of her cousin, and believing that the now-raveraged Ellersley had no attractions to hold marauders amongst its ruins, she dismissed Lord Andrew to make his preparations, and turned herself to prefer her suit accordingly to her father. Air Helbert withdrew, he respectfully put her hand to his lips. Good night, continued she. Air you see me again, I trust the earthly part of the angel now in paradise will be safe within these towers. He poured a thousand blessings on her head, and almost thought that he saw in her beautiful form one of heaven's inhabitants sent to bear away his dear mistress to her divine abode. On entering her father's apartment Lady Helen found him alone. She repeated to him the substance of her conversation with Wallace's faithful servant, and my wish is continued she, to have the murdered ladies' remains entombed in the cemetery of this castle. The Earl approved her request, with expressions of satisfaction at the filial affection which so lively a gratitude to his preserver evinced. May I then, my dear father, return she, have your permission to pay our debt of gratitude to Sir William Wallace to the utmost of our power? You are at liberty, my noble child, to do as you please. My vassals, my coffers, are all at your command. Helen kissed his hand. May I have what I pleased from the Bothwell armory?  Helen threw her arms about her father's neck, thanking him tenderly, and with a beating heart retired to prosecute her plans. Murray, who met her in the anti-room, informed her that fifty men, the sturdiest in the Glen, awaited her orders, while she, telling her cousin of the Earl's approval, took the sacred banner in her hand and followed him to the gallery in the hall. The moment she appeared a shout of joy bade her welcome. Murray waved his hands in a token of silence, while she, smiling with the benignity that spoke her angel errand, spoke with agitation. My brave friend, said she, I thank you for the ardour with which, by this night's enterprise, you assist me to pay, in part, the everlasting tribute due to the man who preserved to me the blessing of a father. With that spirit, then, returned she, I address ye with greater confidence. Who amongst you will shrink from following this standard to the field for Scotland's honour? Who will refuse to make himself the especial guardian of the life of Sir William Wallace, and who, in the moment of peril, will not stand by him to the last?  We swear it burst from every lip at once. She bowed her head and said, returned from Ellersley to-morrow, with the buyer of its sainted mistress, I will then bestow upon every man in this band a warp on it, plumed with my colours, and this banner shall then lead you to the side of Sir William Wallace. In the shock of battle, look at its golden end sign, and remember that God not only armeth the Patriots hand, but shieldeth his heart. In this faith be ye the bucklers which Heaven sends to guard the life of Wallace, and so honoured, exult in your station, and expect the future gratitude of Scotland. Wallace and Lady Helen, to death or liberty, was the animated response to this exhortation, and smiling, and crossing our hands over her bosom, in token of thanks of them and to Heaven, she retired in the midst of their acclamations. Murray, ready armed for his expedition, met her at the door, restored to his usual vivacity by the spirit-moving emotions which the present scene awakened in his heart. He forgot the horror which had aroused his zeal in the glory of some anticipated victory, and giving her a gay salutation led her back to her apartments, where the English soldier awaited her commands. Lady Helen, with a gentle grace, commended his noble resentment of Heselridge's violence. "'Lands in mar shall be yours,' added she, or a post of honour in the little army the Earl is now going to raise. Speak but the word, and you shall find worthy Englishman, that neither a Scotsman nor his daughter know what it is to be ungrateful. The blood mounted into the soldier's cheek. I thank you, sweetest lady, for this generous offer. But as I am an Englishman, I dare not accept it. My arms are due to my own country, and whether I am tied to it by lands or possessions, or have not but my English blood and my oath to my king to bind me, still I should be equally unwarranted in breaking these bonds. I left Heselridge because he dishonoured my country, and for me to forswear her would be to make myself infamous. Hence all I ask is, that after I have this night obeyed your gracious commands in leading your men to Ellersley, the Earl of Marr will allow me instantly to depart for the nearest port. Lady Helen replied that she revered his sentiments too sincerely to insult them by any persuasions to the contrary, and taking a diamond clasp from her bosom she put it into his hand. Wear it in remembrance of your virtue, and of Helen Marr's gratitude. The man kissed it respectfully, and bowing, swore to preserve so distinguishing a gift to the latest hour of his existence. Helen retired to her chamber to finish her task, and Murray, bidding her good night, repaired to the Earl's apartments to take his final orders before he and his troops set out for the ruins of Ellersley. CHAPTER VIII. OF THE SCOTISH CHIEF'S. 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 Shirley Ellen. THE SCOTISH CHIEF'S BY Ms. Jane Porter. CHAPTER VIII. BOTHWELL CHAPEL. Night having passed over the sleepless heads of the inhabitants of Bothwell Castle, as soon as the sun arose the Earl of Marr was carried from his chamber, and laid on a couch in the State Apartment. His lady had not yet left the room of his daughter, by whose side she had lain the whole night in hopes of infecting her with the fears which possessed himself. Helen replied that she could see no reason for such direful apprehension, if her father, instead of joining Wallace in person, would, when he had sent him his suckers, retire with his family into the Highlands, and there await the issue of the contest. It is too late to retreat, dear madam, continued she. The first blow against the public enemy was struck in defence of Lord Marr, and would you have my father act so base apart as to abandon his preserver to the wrath such generous assistance has provoked? Alas! my child answered the Countess. What great service will he have done to me or to your father, if he deliver him from one danger only to plunge him into another? Edward's power in this country is too great to be resisted now. Have not most of our barons sworn fealty to him, and are not the potent families of Cumin, the Sulus, and the March all in his interest? You may perhaps say that most of these are my relations, and that I may turn them in which way I will. But if I have no influence with the husband, it would be madness to expect it over more distant kindred. How, then, was such a host against him? Can your infatuated father venture, without despair, to support the man who breaks a peace with England? Who can despair, honoured lady, returned Helen, in so just a cause? Let us rather believe, with our good King David, that honour must hope always, for no real evil can befall the virtuous, either in this world or in the next. Were I a man, the justice that leads on the brave Wallace would nerve my arm with the strength of a host. Besides, look at our country. God's gift of freedom is stamped upon it. Our mountains are his seal. Plains are the proper territories of the tyranny. There, the armies of a usurper may extend themselves with ease, leaving no corner unoccupied in which patriotism might shelter or treason hide. But mountains, glens, mooruses, lakes set bounds to conquest, and amidst these stands the impregnable seat of liberty. To such a fortress, to the deep defiles of Loch Catrine, or to the cloud-curtain heights of Corry Eric, I would have my father retire. In safety, he may there watch the footsteps of our mountain goddess, till, led by her immortal champion, she plants her standard again upon the hills of Scotland. The complexion of the animated Helen shone with a radiant glow. Her heart panted with a foretaste of the delight she would feel when all her generous wishes should be fulfilled, and pressing the now-completed banner to her breast with an enthusiasm she believed prophetic. Her lips moved, though her voice did not utter the inexpressible rapture of her heart. Lady Mar looked at her. It is well romantic, girl, that you are of my own powerless sex. Had it been otherwise, your rash-shedded disobedience might have made me rue the day I became your father's wife. Sex, returned Helen mildly, could not have altered my sense of duty. Whether man or woman I would obey you in all things consistent with my duty to a higher power. But when that commands, then by the ordinance of heaven, we must leave father and mother and cleave unto it.  Duty of any kind, respectfully answered, the young daughter of Mar, cannot be transgressed with innocence. Nor would it be any relinquishing of duty to you should my father leave you to take up arms in the assertion of his country's rights. Her rights are your safety, and therefore in defending them a husband or a son best shows his sense of domestic as well as a public duty. Who taught you the sophistry, Helen? Not your heart, for it would start at the idea of your father's blood. Helen turned pale. Perhaps, madam, had not the preservation of my father's blood occasion such malignity from the English that nothing but an armed force can deliver his preserver. I, too, might be content to see Scotland in slavery. But now, to wish my father to shrink behind the excuse of far-strained family duties and to abandon Sir William Wallace to the bloodhounds who hunt his life would be to devote his name of Mar to infamy and deservedly bring a curse upon his offspring. Then it is to preserve Sir William Wallace you are thus anxious. Your spirit of freedom is now disallowed, and all this mighty gathering is for him, my husband, his vassals, your cousin, and in short, the sequestration of the estates of Mar and Bothwell are all to be put to the hazard on account of a frantic outlaw, to whom, since the loss of his wife, I should suppose, death would be preferable to any gratitude we can pay him. Lady Helen, at this ungrateful language, inwardly thanked heaven, that she inherited no part of the blood which animated so unfeeling a heart. That he is an outlaw, Lady Mar, springs from us, that death is the preferable comforter of his sorrows, also he owes to us. For was it not for my father's sake that his wife fell, and that he himself was driven into the wilds? I do not, then, blush for making his preservation my first prayer, and that he may achieve the freedom of Scotland is my second. We shall see whose prayers will be answered first, resumed Lady Mar, rising coldly from her seat. My saints are perhaps nearer than yours, and before the close of this day you will have reason to repent such extravagant opinions. I do not understand them. Till now you never disapprove them. I allowed them in your infancy, replied the Countess, because I thought they went no further than a minstrel's song. But since they have become so dangerous, I rue the hour in which I compiled with the entreaties of Sir Richard Maitland, and permitted you and your sister to remain at Thursellstain to imbibe these romantic ideas from the wizard of Esseldyn. Had not Sir Richard been your own mother's father, I would not have been so easily prevailed on. And thus am I rewarded for my indulgence. Few personages are so renowned in tradition as Thomas of Esseldyn, usually called the Rimer. He was a poet and a sage, and believed by his contemporaries to be a prophet. He was born at Erseldyn, a village on the Leder or Lauder, where the ruins of his paternal castle, called Lermont Tower, still remain. 1809. I hope, honoured madam, said Helen, still wishing to soften the displeasure of her stepmother. I hope you will never be ill rewarded for that indulgence, either by my grandfather, my sister, or myself. Isabella in the quiet of Thursellstain has no chance of giving you the offence that I do.  A tear stood in the eye of Lady Helen.  Pardon the daughter of your early friend, my mother, who loved you as a sister. Cannot you forgive her, Helen, for revering justice even more than your favour? More influenced by the sweet humility of her daughter-in-law than by the ingenious eloquence with which she maintained her sentiments, or with the appeal to the memory of the first Lady Marr, the Countess relaxed the frigid air she had assumed, and kissing her, with many renewed injunctions to bless the hand that might put a final stop to so ruinous an enthusiasm in her family, she quitted the room. As soon as Helen was alone she forgot the narrow-minded arguments of the Countess, and calling to recollection the generous permission with which her father had endowed her the night before, she wrapped herself in her mantle, and, attended by her page, proceeded to the armory. The armorer was already there, having just given out arms for three hundred men, who, by the Earl's orders, were to assemble by noon on Bothwell Moor. Helen told the man she had come for the best suit of armour in his custody, one of the most excellent proof. He drew from an oaken chest a coat of black mail studded with gold. Helen admired its strength and beauty. It is the richest in all Scotland, answered he, and was worn by our great Canmore in all his victories. Then it is worthy its destination. Bring it with its helmet and sword to my apartment. The armorer took it up, and, accompanied by the page carrying the lighter parts, followed her into the western tower. When Helen was again alone, it being yet very early in the morning, she employed herself in pluming the cask, and forming the scarf she meant should adorn her present. Thus time flew till the sand-glass told her it was the eighth hour, but ere she had finished her task she was roused from the profound stillness in which that part of the castle lay by the doleful lament of the troop returning from Ellersley. She dropped the half-formed scarf from her hand, and listened without daring to draw her breath to the deep-toned lamentations. She thought that she had never before heard the dirge of her country so piercing, so thrillingly awful. Her head fell on the armour and scarf. Sweet lady, she sighed to herself, who is it that dares thus invade thy duties? But my gratitude, gratitude to the once loved Lord, will not offend thy pure spirit. Again the mournful wailings rose on the air, and with the convulsion of feelings she could not restrain.  Murray entered the room unobserved. Helen, my dear cousin, cried he. She started, and rising apologized for her tears by owning the truth. He now told her that the body of the deceased lady was deposited in the chapel of the castle, and that the priests from the adjacent priory only awaited her presence to consign it with the church's rights to its tomb. Helen retired for a few minutes to recover herself, and then re-entering covered with a black veil was led by her cousin to the awful scene. The buyer lay before the altar. The prior of St. Philan in his holy vestment stood at its head. A band of monks were ranged on each side. The maids of Lady Helen, in mourning garments, met their mistress at the portal. They had wrapped the beautiful corpse in the shroud prepared for it. And now, having laid it, strewed with flowers upon the buyer, they advanced to their trembling lady, expecting her to approve their services. Helen drew near. She bowed to the priests. One of the women put her hand on the Paul to uncover the once lovely face of the murdered Marion. Lady Helen hastily resisted the woman's motion by laying her hand also upon the Paul. The chill of death struck through the velvet to her touch. She turned pale, and waving her hand to the prior to begin, the buyer was lowered by the priests into the tomb beneath. As it descended, Helen sunk upon her knees, and the anthem for departed souls was raised. The peeling notes, as they rose and swelled, seemed to bear up the spirit of the Sainted Marion to its native heaven, and the tears which now flowed from the eyes of Helen, as they mingled with her pious aspirations, seemed the balm of paradise descending upon her soul. When all was over, the venerable Halbert, who had concealed his overwhelming sorrow behind a pillar, threw himself on the cold stone which now closed the last chamber of his mistress.  The women of Lady Helen again chanted forth their melancholy wailings for the dead, and unable longer to bear the scene, she grasped the arm of her cousin, and with difficulty walked from the chapel. The Scottish Chiefs by Miss Jane Porter Chapter 9 Bothwell Dungeons Having rewarded his trusty followers with their promised war bonnets from the hand of Helen, and dispatched them onward to the foot of Cartain Craig's to await his arrival with the larger levee, Murray proceeded to the apartment of Lord Mar, to inform him how far he had executed his commands, and to learn his future orders. He found the veteran-erals surrounded by arms and armed men. Fifty brave Scots, who were to lead the three hundred on Bothwell Moore, were receiving their spears and swords and other weapons from the hands of their Lord. Bear these stoutly, my gallant countrymen, Gridy, and remember, that although the dragon of England has burned up your harvests and laid our homes in ashes, there is yet a lion in Scotland to wither his power and glut you with his spoil. The standard of Edward I was a golden dragon, a very ancient British standard, but derived from pagan times, 1809. The interest of the scene and the clatter of the arms he was dispensing prevented anybody present hearing any sound of what was taking place beyond the room. But the Earl had hardly uttered these words when the double doors of the apartment were abruptly opened, and all eyes were blasted by the sudden sight of Lord Solis, and a man in splendid English armour, with a train of southern soldiers following the recurrent scot. William Lord Solis was a powerful chief in the south of Scotland. He founded pretensions to the Scottish crown on his descent from an illegitimate daughter of Alexander II. Solis was a traitor to his country, and so notoriously wicked that the tradition endows him with the power of infirmal necromancy. His castle of Hermitage in Teviotdale is still shown as the resort of malignant demons, 1809. The Earl started from his couch. Lord Solis, what is the occasion of this unapprised visit? The ensign of the Lige Lord of Scotland is my warrant, replied he. You are my prisoner, and in the name of King Edward of England I take possession of this castle. Never cried the Earl, while there is a man's arm within it. Man and woman, returned Lord Solis, must surrender to Edward. 3,000 English has seized 300 of our insurgents on Bothwell Moor. The castle is surrounded, and resistance impossible. Throw down your arms, cried he, turning to the Klansmen, who thronged round their chief, or be hanged for rebellion against your lawful sovereign. Our lawful sovereign, returned a young man who stood near him, must be the enemy of Edward, and to none else will we yield our arms. Traitor, cried the English commander, while with the sudden and dreadful stroke of his battle-axe he laid the body of the generous Scott, a headless corpse at his feet. A direful cry proceeded from his enraged comrades. Every sword was drawn, and before the bewildered and soul-struck Earl could utter a word, the Furies blew their most horrible blasts through the chamber, and the half-frantic Moor beheld his brave Scots at one moment victorious, and in the next the floor strewed with their dead bodies. A new succession of bloodhounds had rushed in at every door, and before the exterminating sword was allowed to rest, the whole of his faithful troops lay around him, wounded and dying. Several had fallen across his body, having warded with their lives the strokes they believed leveled at his. In vain his voice had called upon his men to surrender. In vain he had implored the iron-hearted solace, and his co-ajutor aimered devalence to stop the havoc of death. All now lay in blood, and the heat of the room, thronged by the victors, became so intolerable that devalence, for his own sake, ordered the Earl to be removed into another apartment. Meanwhile, unconscious of these events, Helen had lain down on her bed to seek a few minutes' repose, and having watched the whole of the preceding night was sunk into a profound sleep. Murray, who was present at the abrupt entrance of the enemy, no sooner heard them declared that the castle was surrounded by a comparatively large army, than he foresaw all would be lost. On the instant, and before the dreadful signal of carnage was given in the fall of the young scot, he slid behind the canopy of his uncle's couch, and lifting the arrows by a back door, which led to some private rooms, hastily made way to the chamber of his cousin. As he hurried along, he heard a fearful shout. He paused for a moment, but thinking at best whatever might have happened to secure the safety of Helen, he flew onward and entered her room. She lay upon the bed in a deep sleep. Awake, Helen, he cried. For your life, awake! She opened her eyes, but without allowing her time to speak, he hastily added. The castle is full of armed men, led hither by the English commander, Amor de Valance, and the Exocry will solace. Unless you fly through the vaulted passage, you will be their prisoner. Helen gazed at him in terror. Where is my father? Leave him, I cannot. Fly, in pity to your father. Oh, do not hesitate. What will be his anguish, should you fall into the hands of the furious men whose love you have rejected, when it will no longer be in the power of a parent to preserve your person from the outrages of his eager and avengeful passion. If you had seen Solace's threatening eyes, he was interrupted by a clamour in the opposite gallery and shrieks of women. Helen grasped his arm. Alas, my poor damsels, I will go with you, wither you will, to be far from him. As Murray threw his arm about her waist to impel her failing steps, his eyes fell on the banner and the suit of armor. All else must be left, exclaimed he, seizing the banner and hurrying Helen forward. He hastened with her down the stairs which led from the western watchtower to the vaults beneath the castle. On entering the first cellar to which a dim light was admitted through a small grating near the top, he looked round for the archway that contained the avenue of the release. Having described it and raised one of the large flags which paved the floor, he assisted his affrighted cousin down a short flight of steps into the secret passage. This, whispered he, will carry us in a direct line to the cell of the prior of St. Philan. But what will become of my father and Lady Marr? This flight, while they are in danger, oh, I fear to complete it. Rather fear the Libertine Solace, returned Murray. He can only make them prisoners, and even that injury shall be of short duration. I will soon join the brave Wallace, and then my sweet cousin, Liberty, and a happy meeting. Alas, his venerable heart procred she, suddenly remembering Halbert. Should he be discovered to have belonged to Wallace, he too will be massacred by these merciless men. Murray stopped. Have you courage to remain in this darkness alone? If so, I will seek him, and he shall accompany us. Helen had courage for anything, but the dangers Murray might encounter by returning into the castle. But the generous youth had entered too fully into her apprehensions concerning the old men to be withheld. Should I be delayed in coming back, said he, recollecting the possibility of himself being attacked in slain, go forward to the end of this passage. It will lead you to a flight of stairs. Ascend them, and by drawing the bolt of a door you will find yourself at once in the priors cell. Talk not of delay, replied Helen. Return quickly, and I will wait you at the entrance of the passage. So saying, she swiftly retraced with him her steps to the bottom of the stone stairs by which they had descended. He raised the flag, sprung out of the aperture, and closing it down, left her in solitude in darkness. Murray passed through the first cellar, and was proceeding to the second, among the catacombs of which laid the concealed entrance to the private stairs, when he saw the great gates of the cellar open, and a large party of English soldiers enter. They were conducted by the butler of the castle, who seemed to reform his office unwillingly, while they crowded in, thirsty and riotous. Aware how unequal his single arm would be to contend with such numbers, Murray, at the first glance of these plunderers, retreated behind a heap of casks in a remote corner. While the trembling butler was loading a dozen of the men with flasks for the refreshment of their masters above, the rest were helping themselves from the adjacent catacombs. Some left the cellars with their booty, and others remained to drink it on the spot. Glad to escape the insults of the soldiers who lay wallowing in the wine, Bothwell's old servant quitted the cellar with the last company which bore flagans to their comrades above. Murray listened anxiously in hopes of hearing from his garrulous neighbor some intimation of the fate of his uncle and aunt. He harkened in vain, for nothing was uttered by these intoxicated banditai, but loud boasting of the number each had slain in the Earl's apartment, execrations against the Scots for their obstinate resistance, and a thousand sanguinary wishes that the nation had but one neck to strike off at a blow. How often during this conversation was Murray tempted to rush out amongst them and seize a desperate revenge. But the thought of his poor cousin now awaiting his return, and perhaps already suffering dreadful alarms from such extraordinary uproar, restrained him. And unable to move from his hiding place without precipitating himself into instant death, he remained nearly an hour in the most painful anxiety, watching the dropping to sleep of this horrid crew one by one. When all seemed hushed, not a voice, even in a whisper, startling his ear, he ventured forth with a stealing step toward the slumbering group. Like his brave ancestor, Gull, the son of Mourney, he disdained a stab of sleeping foe. He must pass them to reach the private stairs. He paused and listened. Silence still reigned, not even a hand moved so deeply where they sunk in the fumes of wine. He took courage and flew with the lightness of air to the secret door. As he laid his hand on it, it opened from without and two persons appeared. By the few rays which gleamed from the expiring torches of the sleepers, he could see that the first were English armor. Murray made a spring and caught the man by the throat when someone seizing his arm exclaimed, Stop, my Lord Murray! It is the faithful Grimsby. Murray let Gull his hold, glad to find that both his English friend and the venerable object of his solicitude were thus providentially brought to meet him, but fearing that the violence of his action and Halbert's exclamation might have alarmed the sleeping soldiers, who drunk as they were were too numerous to be resisted. He laid his finger on the tip of Grimsby and motioned to the astonished pair to follow him. As they advanced, they perceived one of the soldiers move as if disturbed. Murray held his sword over the sleeping wretch, ready to plunge it into his heart should he attempt to rise. But he became still again, and the fugitive having approached the flag, Murray drew it up and eager to haven his double charge. He thrust them together down the stairs. At that moment a shriek from Helen, who had discovered by a gleam of light which burst into the vault a man descending in English armor, echoed through the cellars. Two of the soldiers jumped upon their feet and rushed upon Murray. He had let the flag drop behind him, but still remaining by it in case of an opportunity to escape. He received the strokes of their weapons upon his target, and returned them with equal rapidity. One assailant lay gasping at his feet, but the clashing of arms and the cries of the survivor had already awakened the whole crew. With horrid menaces they threw themselves towards the young Scott, and would certainly have cut him to pieces had he not snatched the only remaining torch out of the hand of the staggering soldier, and extinguished it under his foot. Be wildered where to find their prey, with threats and imprecations, they groped in darkness, slashing the air with their swords, and not unfrequently wounding each other in the vain search. Murray was now far from their pursuit. He had no sooner put out the light than he pulled up the flag, and leaping down drew it after him and found himself in safety. Desperate as was the contest, it had been short, for he yet heard the footsteps of the panicstruck Helen flying along the passage. The Englishman and Halbert, on the first falling of the flag, not knowing it's spring, had unsuccessfully tried to re-raise it that they might assist Murray in the tumult above. On his appearing again so unexpectedly they declared their joy. But the young Lord, impatient to calm the apprehensions of his cousin, returned no other answer than, follow me, while he darted forward. Terror had given her wings, and even prevented her hearing the low sounds of Murray's voice, which he durst not raise to a higher pitch, for fear of being overheard by the enemy. Thus, while she lost all presence of mind, he did not come up with her till she fell breathless against the stairs at the extremity of the vault. End of Chapter 9 CHAPTER X St. Philan's As soon as Murray found her within his arms he clasped her insensible form to his breast, and carrying her up the steps drew the bolt of the door. It opened to his pressure and discovered a large monastic cell into which the daylight shone through one long narrow window. A straw pallet, an altar, and a marble basin were the furniture. The cell was solitary, the owner being then at mass in the chapel of the monastery. Murray laid down his death-like burden on the monk's bed. He then ventured, believing as it was to restore so pure a being to life it would not be a sacrilege, to throw some of the holy water upon his cousin's face, and by means of a little chalice which stood upon the altar he poured some into her mouth. At last, opening her eyes, she recognized the figure of her young kinsmen leaning over her. The almost paralyzed Halbert stood at her feet. Blessed Virgin, am I yet safe, and with my dear Andrew? Oh, I feared you were slain, cried she, bursting into tears. Thank God we are both safe, answered he. Comfort yourself, my beloved cousin. You are now on holy ground. This is the cell of the prior of St. Philan. None but the hand of an infidel dare rest you from this sanctuary. But my father and Lady Mar, again her tears flowed. The Countess-migratious Lady, answered Halbert, since she could not be found in the castle, is allowed to accompany her father to Dumbarton Castle, there to be treated with every respect until the valence reserves further orders from King Edward. But for Wallace, cried she, ah, where now are the suckers that would be sent to him? And without suckers, how can he or you, dearest Andrew, rescue my father from this tyranny? Do not despair, replied Murray. Look but at the banner you held fast, even while insensible. Your own hands have engravened my answer. God armeth the patriot. Convinced of that, can you still fear for your father? I will join Wallace to-morrow. Your own fifty warriors await me at the bottom of Cartlain Craigs, and if any treachery should be meditated against my uncle, that moment we will make the towers of Dumbarton shake to their foundation. Helen's reply was a deep sigh. She thought it might be Heaven's will that her father, like the good Lord Douglas, should fall a victim to royal revenge. And so sad were her forebodings, that she hardly dared to hope what the sanguine disposition of her cousin promised. Grimsby now came forward, and unloosing an iron box from under his arm put it into the hands of Lord Murray. This fatal treasure, said he, was committed to my care by the Earl, your uncle, to deliver to the prior of St. Philan's. What does it contain, demanded Murray? I never saw it before. I know not its contents, returned the soldier. It belongs to Sir William Wallace. Indeed, ejaculated Helen. If it be treasure, why was it not rather sent to him? But how, on a soldier asked Murray, did you escape with it and Halbert too? I'm out of lost to conjecture, but by miracle. He replied that as soon as the English and their Scottish partisans under the Lord's solace had surprised the castle, he saw that his only chance of safety was to throw off the bonnet and plaid, and mix amongst the numerous soldiers who had taken possession of the gates. His armor and his language showed that he was their countryman, and they easily believed that he had joined the plunders as a volunteer from the army which had a greater distance beleaguered the castle. The story of his desertion from the Lanark garrison had not yet reached those of Glasgow and Dumbarton, and one or two men who had known him in former expeditions readily reported that he had been drafted into the present one. Their recognition warranted his truth, and he had no difficulty after the carnage in the State Apartment to make his way to the bed-chamber where Lord Amor de Valence had ordered Lord Marr to be carried. He found the Earl alone and lost in grief. He knew not but that his nephew and even his daughter and wife had fallen beneath the impetuous swords of the enemy. Astonished at seeing the soldier walking at large, he expressed his surprise with some suspicions. But Grimsby told him the stratagem that he had used, and assured him Lord Andrew had not been seen since the onset. This information inspired the Earl with a hope that his nephew might have escaped, and when the soldier also said that he had seen the Countess led by Lord Solis across the hall toward the Lady Helen's apartments, while he overheard him promising them every respect, the Earl seemed comforted. But how he inquired of Grimsby has this hard fate befallen us? Have you learned how de Valence knew that I meant to take up arms for my country? When the soldier was relating this part of the conference, Murray interrupted him with the same demand. On that head I cannot fully satisfy, he replied. I could only gather from the soldiers that a sealed packet had been delivered to Lord Amor de Valence late last night at Dumbarton Castle. Solis was then there, and he immediately set off to Glasgow for the followers he had left in that town. Early this morning he joined de Valence and his legions on Bothwell-Mor. The consequence is there, you know, but they do not end at Bothwell. The gallant Wallace, at that name so mentioned, the heart of Helen grew cold. What of him, exclaimed Murray? No personal harm yet happened to Sir William Wallace, replied Grimsby. But at the same moment in which de Valence gave orders for his troops to march in Bothwell, he sent others to intercept that persecuted knight's escape from the Cartland Craigs. That a cursed sealed packet, cried Murray, has been the traitor. Some villain in Bothwell Castle must have written it. What else could have come the double information? And if so, added he, with tremendous emphasis, may the blast of slavery ever pursue him in his posterity. Helen shuddered as the amen to this frightful maldiction was echoed by the voices of Helbert and the soldier. The latter continued, When I informed Lord Marr of these measures against Wallace, he expressed a hope that your first detachment to his assistance might, with yourself perhaps at its head, elude their vigilance, and join his friend. This discourse reminded him of the iron box. It is in that closet, said his lordship, pointing to the opposite door. You will find it beneath a little altar, before which I pay my daily duties to the all-wise dispenser of the fates of men. Elsewhere would be my confidence now. Take it, thence, and buckle it to your side. I obeyed, and he then proceeded. There are two passages in this house which lead to the sanctuary. The one nearest to us is the safest for you. A staircase from the closet you have just left will lead you directly into the chapel. When there, hasten to the image of the virgin and slip beside the marble tablet on the back of the pedestal, it will admit you to a flight of steps. Descend them, and at the bottom you will find a door that will convey you into a range of cellars. Lift up the largest flagstone in the second, and you will be conducted through a dark vault to an iron door. Draw the bolt, and remain in the cell. It will open to you till the owner enters. He is the prior of St. Philan's and a Murray. Give him this golden cross which he well knows as a mark you come from me, and say it is my request that he assist you to gain the seashore. As for the iron box, tell him to preserve it as he would his life, and never to give it up but to myself, my children, or to Sir William Wallace, its rightful master.  Ill, omen, trust, whatever it contains, its presence carried blood and sorrow in its train. Wherever it has been deposited, war and murder have followed. I trust my dear master will never see it more. He may indeed never see it more, murmured Helen, in a low voice. Where are now my proud anticipations of freedom to Scotland? Alas, Andrew, said she, taking his hand and weeping over it. I have been too presumptuous. My father is a prisoner, and Sir William Wallace is lost. Cease, my dear Helen, cried he, cease to distress yourself. These are merely the vicissitudes of the great contention we are engaged in. We must expect occasional disappointments, or look for miracles every day. Such disasters are sent as lessons to teach us precaution, propitude, and patience. These are the soldier's graces, my sweet cousin, and depend on it. I will pay them due obedience. But why, asked Helen, taking comfort from the unsubdued spirits of her cousin, why my good soldier did not my dear father take advantage of this sanctuary? I urged the Earl to accompany me, returned Grimsby, but he said such a proceeding would leave his wife and babes in unprotected captivity. No, added he. I will await my fate, for the God of those who trust in him knows that I do not fear. Having received such preemptory orders from the Earl, I took my leave, and entering the chapel by the way he directed was agreeably surprised to find the worthy Helbert, whom never having seen since the funeral obsequies I supposed had fallen during the carnage in the State Chamber, he was still kneeling by the tomb of his buried mistress. I did not take long to warn him of his danger, and desired him to follow me. We descended together beneath the holy statue, and were just emerging into the cellars when you, sir, met us at the entrance. It was while we were yet in the chapel that I heard devalence and solace at high words in the courtyard. The former, in a loud voice, gave orders that, as Helen Marr could nowhere be found, the Earl and Countess with their two infant children should not be separated, but be conveyed as his prisoners to Dumbarton Castle. That is a comfort, cried Helen. My father will then be consoled by the presence of his wife. But very different would have been the case, madam, had you appeared, rejoined the soldier. One of Lord devalence's men told me that Lord Solace intended to have taken you and the Countess to Dunglass Castle, near Glasgow, while the sick Earl was to have been carried alone to Dumbarton and detained in solitary confinement. Lord Solace was in so dreadful a rage when you could not be found that he accused the English Commander of having leagued with Lady Marr to deceive him. In the midst of this contention we descended into the vaults. Helen shuddered at the thought of how near she was to falling into the hands of so fierce a spirit. In his character he united every quality which could render power formidable, combining prodigious bodily strength with cruelty, dissimulation, and treachery. He was feared by the common people as a sorcerer, and avoided by the virtuous of his own rank as an enemy to all public law, and the violator of every private tie. Helen Marr had twice refused his hand. First during the contest for the kingdom, when his pretended claim to the crown was disallowed, she was then a mere child, hardly more than fourteen, but she rejected him with abhorrence. Though stung to the quick at being denied the objects both of his love and ambition at the same moment, he did not hesitate at another period to renew his offer to her. At the fall of Dunbar, when he again founded his uprise on the ruins of his country, as soon as he had repeated his oaths of fidelity to Edward, he hastened to Thursell's stain, to throw himself a second time at the feet of Lady Helen. Her ripened judgment confirmed her youthful dislike of his ruffian qualities, and again he was rejected. By the powers of Hale exclaimed he when the project of surprising Bothwell was imparted to him. If I once get that proud minion into my grasp, she shall be mine as I will, and learn to beg for even a look from the man who has humbled her. Helen knew not half the afflictions with which his resentful heart had meditated to subdue and torture her, and therefore, though she shrunk at the sound of a name so generally infamous, yet not aware of all the evils she had escaped, she replied with languor, though with gratitude, to the almost rapturous congratulations of her cousin on her timely flight. At this period the door of the cell opened, and the prior entered from the cloisters. He started on seeing his room filled with strangers. Murray took off his helmet and approached him. Unrecognizing the son of his patron, the prior inquired his commands, and expressed some surprise that such a company, and above all a lady, could have passed the convent gate without his previous notice. Murray pointed to the recess behind the altar, and then explained to the good priests the necessity which had compelled them to thus seek the protection of St. Philan. Lady Helen continued he, must share your care until heaven empowers the Earl of Marr to reclaim his daughter, and adequately reward this holy church. The soldier then presented the cross, with the iron box repeating the message that confided them also to his keeping. The prior listened to these recitals with soreful attention. He had not heard the noise of armed men advancing to the castle, but knowing that the Earl was making war-like preparations, he had no suspicion that these were other than Bothwell soldiers. He took the box, and laying it on the altar pressed the cross to his lips. The Earl of Marr shall find that fidelity here which is faith in the church merits. That mysterious chest of which you tell me so terrible a denunciation is annexed, shall be preserved sacred as the relics of St. Philan. Halbert groaned heavily at these words, but he did not speak. The father looked at him attentively, and then proceeded, But for you, virtuous southern, I will give you a pilgrim's habit. Travel in that privileged garb to Montrose, and there a brother of the church, the prior of Aberbrothic will, by letter from me, convey you in a vessel to Normandy. Thence you may safely find your way to Guyin. The soldier bowed his head, and the priest, turning to Lady Helen, told her that a cell should be appointed for her, and some pious woman brought from the adjoining Hamlet to pay her due attendance. As for this venerable man continued he, his silver hairs already proclaim him near his heavenly country. He had best put on the cowl of the holy brotherhood, and in the arms of religion repose securely till he passes through the sleep of death to wake an everlasting life. Tears started into the eyes of Halbert. I thank you, Reverend Father. I have indeed drawn near the end of my pilgrimage, too old to serve my dear master in the fields of blood and hardship. I will at least devote my last hours to uniting my prayers with his, and all good souls for the repose of his sainted lady. I accept your invitation, thankfully. And considering it a call from heaven to give me rest, I welcome the day that marks the poor harper of Ellersie with the sacred taunture. The sound of approaching trumpets, and soon after the clattering of horses and the clang of armor made an instantaneous silence in the cell. Helen looked fearfully at her cousin, and grasped his hand. Murray clasped his sword with a firmer hold. I will protect you with my life, he spoke in a low tone. But the soldier heard him. There is no cause of alarm rejoined he. Lord DeValence is only marching by on his way to Dumbarton.  The venerable prior, pitying her affliction, knelt down by her. My daughter, be comforted, said he. They dare not commit any violence on the Earl. King Edward too well understands his own interests to allow even a long imprisonment to so popular a nobleman. This assurance, assisted by the consolations of a firm trust in God, caused her to raise her head with a meek smile. He continued to speak of the impregnable hopes of the Christian, who found his confidence on a niptense. And while his words spread a serenity through her soul that seemed the ministration of a descended saint, she closed her hands over her breast, and silently invoked the protection of the almighty Jehovah for her suffering parent. The prior, seeing her composed, recommended leaving her to rest. And Helen, comforted by holy meditations, allowing her cousin to depart, he led Murray and his companions into the convent library. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The march of devalance from the castle have improved that no suspicion of any of its late inhabitants being still in the neighbourhood remained with its usurpers. Grimsby thought he might depart in safety, and next morning he begged permission of the prior to commence his journey. I am anxious to quit a land, said he, where my countrymen are committing violences which make me blush at the name of Englishmen. Murray put a purse of gold into the soldier's hand, while the prior covered his armour with a pilgrims gown. Grimsby, with a respectful bow, returned the gift. I cannot take money from you, my lord, but bestow on me this sword at your side, and that I will preserve for ever. Murray took it off and gave it to the soldier. Let us exchange, my brave friend, said he, give me yours, and it shall be a memorial to me of having found virtue in an Englishman. Grimsby unlocked his rude weapon in a moment, and as he put the iron hilt into the young Scott's hand, a tear stood in his eye. When you raise this sword against my countrymen, think on Grimsby, a faithful though humble soldier of the cross. And spare the blood of all who ask for mercy. Murray looked a gracious ascent, for the tear of mercy was infectious. Without speaking he gave the good soldier's hand a parting grasp, and with regret that superior claims called so brave a man from his side, he saw him leave the monastery. The mourner banquets on memory, making that which seems the poison of life its ailment. During the hours of regret we recalled the images of departed joys, and in weeping over each tender remembrance, tears so softly shed and balm the wounds of grief. To be denied the privilege of pouring forth our love and our lamentations over the grave of one who in life was our happiest is to shut up the soul of the survivor in a solitary tomb, where the bereaved heart pines in secret till it breaks with the fullness of uncommunicated sorrow. But listen to the mourner, give his feelings way, and like the river rolling from the hills into the valley, they will flow with a gradually gentler stream, till they become lost in time's wide ocean. So Murray judged when the poor old Harper, finding himself alone with him, again gave loose to his often recapitulated griefs. He wept like an infant, and recounted the afflictions of his master while bewailing the disasters at Bothwell, implored Murray to go without delay to support the now almost friendless Wallace. Murray was consoling him with the assurance that he would set off for the mountains that very evening, when the prior return to conduct Halbert to a cell appointed for his novitate. The good priest had placed one of his most pious fathers there to administer both temporal and spiritual cordials to the aged sufferer. The sorrowing domestic of Wallace being thus disposed of, the prior and Murray remained together consulting on the safest means of passing to the Cart lane hills. A lay-brother whom the prior had sent in pursuit of Helen's fifty warriors to appraise them of the English being in the craigs, at this juncture entered the library. He informed the father that secure in his religious garb he had penetrated many of the Cart lane defiles. But could neither see nor hear anything of the party. Every glen or height was occupied by the English, and from a woman of whom he begged a draft of milk, he had learned how closely the mountains were invested. The English commander, in his zeal to prevent provisions being conveyed to Wallace and his famishing garrison, had stopped a procession of monks bearing a dead body to the sepical cave of St. Columba. He would not allow them to ascend the heights until he examined whether the buyer really bore a corpse or was a vehicle to carry food to the beleaguered Scots. In the midst of this information the prior and his friends were startled by a shout, and soon after a tumult of voices in which might be distinguished the cry of a gallows for the traitor. Our brave Englishman has fallen into their hands, cried Murray, hastening toward the door. What would you do, interrupted the prior, holding him? Your single arm could not save the soldier. The cross has more power. I will seek these violent men. Meanwhile, stay here as you value the lives of all in the convent. Murray had now recollected himself an acquiesce. The prior took the crucifix from the altar and ordering the porter to throw open the great doors, near which the incessant shouting seemed to proceed. He appeared before a turbulent band of soldiers who were dragging a man along, fast bound with their leatheren belts. Blood trickling from his face fell on the hands of the ruthless wretches, who, with horrid yells, were threatening him with instant death. The prior, raising the cross, rushed in among them, and in the name of the blessed son who died on that tree, bade them stand. The soldiers trembled before the holy majesty of his figure, and at his awful adoration. The prior looked on the prisoner, but he did not see the dark locks of the Englishman. It was the yellow hair of Scotland that mingled with the blood on his forehead. Whither do you hurry, that wounded man? To his death answered a surly fellow. What is his offence?  How has he proved it? He is a scot, and he belongs to the disloyal Lord of Marre. This bugle with its crowned falcon proves it, added the southern, holding up the very bugle which the earl had sent by Halbert to Wallace, and which was ornamented with the crest of marre wrought in gold. That this has been Lord Marre's, replied the prior, there is no doubt. But may not this man have found it? Or may it not have been given to him by the earl before the chief incurred the displeasure of King Edward? Which of you would think it just to be made to die, because your friend was condemned to the scaffold? Unless you substantiate your charge against this man by a better proof than this bugle, his death would be a murder, which the Lord of Life will require in the perdition of your souls. As the father spoke, he again elevated the cross. The man turned pale. I am a minister of Christ, continued he, and must be the friend of justice. Release, therefore, that wounded man to me, before the altar of the searcher of all hearts, he shall confess himself. And if I find that he is guilty unto death, I promise you, by the Holy St. Philan, to release him to your commanding officer, and so let justice take its course. But if he proves innocent, I am the soldier of Christ, and no monarch on earth shall rest his children from the protection of the Church. While he spoke, the man who held the prisoner let go their hold, and the prior stretching out his hand gave him to a party of monks to conduct into the convent. Then, to convince the soldiers that it was the man's life he sought to save and not the spoil, he returned the golden bugle and bade him depart in peace. Odd by the father's address and satisfied with the money and arms of which they had rifled the stranger, the marauders retreated, determining, indeed, to say nothing of the matter to the officer in the castle. Lest he should demand the horn. And elated with the present booty, they marched off to pursue their plundering excursion. Bursting into Yeoman's houses in peasant's huts, stripping all of their substance, who did or did not swear fiality to Edward, thus robbing the latter and exacting contributions from the former, while vain prayers for mercy and unanswered cries for redress ekkled dofully through the veil of Bothwell, they sped gaily on, as if murder were pastime and rapine honour. The prior, on returning into the convent, ordered the gates to be bolted. When he entered the chapter house, finding the monks had already bound up the wounds of the stranger, he made a sign for the brethren to withdraw, and then, approaching the young man. My son, said he, in a mild tone, you heard my declaration to the man from whom I took you. Answer me the truth, and you shall find that virtue or repentance have alike a refuge in the arms of the church. As I am its servant, no man need fear to confide in me. Speak with candour. How came you by that bugle? The stranger looked steadfastly on his questioner. A minister of the all-righteous God cannot mean to deceive. You have saved my life, and I should be less than man could I doubt the evidence of that deed. I received that bugle from a brave scot who dwells amongst the eastern mountains, and who gave it to me to assure the Earl of Marr that I came from him. The prior apprehended that it was of Wallace, he spoke. You come to request a military aide from the Earl of Marr, rejoined the father, willing to sound him before he committed Murray by calling him to the conference. The stranger replied, If reverencer, you are in the confidence of the good Earl, pronounced but the Christian name of the man who charged me with the bugle, and allow me then for his sake to ask you what has indeed happened to the Earl that I was seized by foes when I expected to meet with friends only. Reply to this, and I shall speak freely, but at present, though I would confide all of myself to your sacred character, yet the confidence of others is not mine to bestow. The prior, being convinced by this caution that he was indeed speaking with some messenger from Wallace, made no hesitation to answer.  The man rose hastily from his seat, and falling on his knees before the prior put his garment to his lips. Father, I now know that I am with a friend of my persecuted master, but if indeed the situation of Lord Mark precludes assistance from him, all hope is lost. The noble Wallace is penned within the hills, without any hopes of escape. Suffer me then, thou venerable saint, to rejoin him immediately, that I may at least die with my friend. Hope for a better destiny, return the prior, I am a servant, and not to be worshipped. Turn to that altar, and kneel to him, who can alone send the succor you need. The good man, thinking it was now time to call the young Lord of Bothwell by a side door from the chapter house, entered the library, where Murray was anxiously awaiting his return. On his entrance the impatient youth eagerly exclaimed, Have you rescued him? Grimsby, I hope, is far and safely on his journey, answered the good priest. But the man those murderers were dragging to death is in the chapter house. Follow me, and he will give you news of Wallace. Murray gladly obeyed. At the sight of a Scottish knight in armour the messenger of Wallace thought his prayers were answered, and that he saw before him the leader of the host which was to march to the preservation of his brave commander. Murray told him who he was, and learned from him in return that Wallace now considers himself in a state of siege, that the women, children, and old man with him had nothing to feed on but wild strawberries and bird's eggs, which they found in the hollows of the rocks. To relieve them from such hard quarters, girded by a barrier of English soldiers, continued the narrator, It's his first wish, but that cannot be affected by our small number. However, he would make the attempt by a stratagem, Could we be at all supported by succors from the Earl of Marr? My uncle's means, replied Murray, are for a time cut off, but mine shall be exerted to the utmost. Did you not meet somewhere, a company of Scots, to the number of fifty? I sent them off yesterday to seek your noble chief. No, rejoined the young man. I fear they have been taken by the enemy, for in my way to Sir William Wallace, not knowing that the English were so close to his sanctuary, I was nearly seized myself. I had not the good fortune to be with him when he struck the first blow for Scotland in the citadel of Lanark. But as soon as I heard the tale of his wrongs, and that he had retired in arms toward the cart lane craigs, I determined to follow his fate. We had been companions in our boyish days, and friends after. He saved my life once in swimming, and now that a formidable nation menaces his, I seek to repay the debt. For this purpose, a few nights ago, I left my guardian's house by stealth, and sought my way to my friend. I found the banks of the mouse occupied by the English. But exploring the most intricate passes, at last gained the bottom of the precipice, on the top of which Wallace is encamped. And as I lay among the bushes, watching an opportunity to ascend, I perceived two English soldiers near me. They were in discourse, and I overheard them say, that besides Heselridge himself, nearly two hundred of his garrison had fallen by the hand of Wallace's men in the contention at the castle. That the tidings were sent to Sir Richard Arnolf, the deputy governor of Eyre. And he had dispatched a thousand men to surround the cart lane craigs, spies having given notice that they were Sir William's strongholds. And the orders were that he must be taken dead or alive while all his adherents, men and women, should receive no quarter. Such was the information I brought to my gallant friend, when in the dead of night I mounted the rock, and calling to the Scottish Sentinel in Gaelic gave him my name, and was allowed to enter the sacred spot. Wallace welcomed his faithful cur, and soon unfolded his distress and his hopes. He told me of the famine that threatened his little garrison, of the constant watching day and night necessary to prevent a surprise. But in his extremity he observed that one defile was thinly guarded by the enemy. Probably because, as it lay at the bottom of a perpendicular angle of the rock, they thought it unattainable by the Scots. To this point, however, my dauntless friend turned his eyes. He would attempt it. Could he procure a sufficient number of fresh men to cover the retreat of his exhausted few? For this purpose, as I had so lately explored the most hidden paths of the Greggs, I volunteered to visit the Lord Mar, and to conduct, in safety, any secourse he might send to our persecuted leader. The stem of this brave name, Kerr, in subsequent times became two great branches, the Roxburg and the Lothian. This continued Kerr was the errand on which I came to the Earl. Think, then, my horror, when in my journey I found redoubled legions hemming in the hills, and on advancing towards Bothwell Castle was seized with that nobleman who, they said, was condemned to lose his head. Not so bad as that, my brave Kerr, cried Murray, a glow of indignation flushing his cheek. Many a bull's head shall frown in this land on the southern tables, before my uncle's neck gluts their axes. No true Scottish blood, I trust, will ever stain their scaffolds. For while we have arms to wield a sword he must be a fool that grounds them on any other terms than freedom or death. We have cast our lives on the dye, and Wallace's camp, or the narrow house, must be our prize. A bull's head presented at a feast was a sign that some one of the company was immediately to be put to death, 1809. Noble youth exclaimed the prior, may the innocence which gives animation to your courage continue its moving soul. They only are invincible who are as ready to die as to live, and no one can be firm in that principle whose exemplary life is not a happy preparation for the awful change. Murray bowed modestly to this pious ecomial, and, turning to Kerr, informed him that since he must abandon all hope of hearing any more of the fifty brave men his cousin Helen had sent to the Craigs, he bethought him of applying to his uncle, Sir John Murray, who dwelt hard by on his estate at Drumshergard. It is small, said he, and cannot afford many men, but still he may spare sufficient to affect the escape of our commander, and that for the present will be a host. To accomplish his design without delay, for promptitude is the earnest of success, and to avoid a surprise from the English lieutenant at Bothwell, who hearing of the ring counter before the castle might choose to abandon his men's prisoner, Murray determined to take Kerr with him, and disguised his peasants as soon as darkness should shroud their movements, proceed to Drumshergard.