Having rewarded his trusty followers with their promised war-bonnets from the hand of Helen, and dispatched them onward to the foot of Cartiane Craigs, to await his arrival with the larger levy. 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 earl surrounded by arms and armed men; fifty brave Scots, who were to lead the three hundred on Bothwell Moor, were receiving their spears and swords, and other weapons, from the hands of their lord.
“Bear these stoutly my gallant countrymen,” cried he, “and remember, that although the dragon12 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!”
12 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 Soulis,13 and a man in splendid English armor, with a train of Southron soldiers, following the recreant Scot.
13 William Lord Soulis 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. Soulis was a traitor to his country, and so notoriously wicked, that tradition endows him with the power of infernal necromancy. His castle of Hermitage, in Teviotdale, is still shown as the resort of malignant demons.-(1809.)
The earl started from his couch. “Lord Soulis! what is the occasion of this unapprised visit?”
“The ensign of the liege 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 Soulis, “must surrender to Edward. Three thousand English have seized three hundred of our insurgents on Bothwell Moor. The castle is surrounded, and resistance impossible. Throw down your arms!” cried he, turning to the clansmen, 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 a sudden and dreadful stroke of his battle-ax he laid the body of the generous Scot 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 blast through the chamber; and the half-frantic Mar beheld his brave Scots at one moment victorious, and in the next the floor strewed with their dead bodies. A new succession of blood-hounds 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 Soulis, and his coadjutor Aymer de Valence, 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 De Valence, 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 declare 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 arras 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 it 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, Aymer de Valence, and the execrable Soulis. 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 man 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 Soulis’ threatening eyes —” He was interrupted by a clamor in the opposite gallery, and the shrieks of women. Helen grasped his arm. “Alas, my poor damsels! I will go with you, whither 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 watch-tower 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 their release. Having descried 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. Fillan.”
“But what will become of my father, and Lady Mar? This flight, while they are in danger! oh! I fear to complete it!”
“Rather fear the libertine Soulis,” returned Murray, “he can only make them prisoners; and even that ............