In the cool of the evening, while the young chieftain was thus employed, Kenneth entered to tell him that Sir William Wallace had called out his little army, to see its strength and numbers. Edwin’s soul had become not more enamoured of the panoply of war than the gracious smiles of his admired leader, and at this intelligence he threw his plans over his brigandine, and placing a swan-plumed bonnet on his brows, hastened forth to meet his general.
The heights of Craignacoheilg echoed with thronging footsteps, and a glittering light seemed issuing from her woods, as the rays of the descending sun glanced on the arms of her assembling warriors.
The thirty followers of Murray appeared just as the two hundred Frasers entered from an opening in the rocks. Blood mounted into his face as he compared his inferior numbers and recollected the obligation they were to repay, and the greater one he was now going to incur. However he threw the standard worked by Helen on his shoulder, and turning to Wallace, “Behold,” cried he, pointing to his men, “the poor man’s mite! It is great, for it is my all!”
“Great, indeed, brave Murray!” returned Wallace, “for it brings me a host in yourself.”
“I will not disgrace my standard!” said he, lowering the banner-staff to Wallace. He started when he saw the flowing lock, which he could not help recognizing. “This is my betrothed,” continued Murray in a blither tone; “I have sworn to take her for better for worse, and I pledge you my truth nothing but death shall part us!”
Wallace grasped his hand. “And I pledge you mine, that the head whence it drew shall be laid low before I suffer so generous a defender to be separated, dead or alive, from this standard.” His eyes glanced at the empress; “Thou art right,” continued he; “God doth goest with the confidence of success, to embrace victory as a bride!”
“No, I am only the bridegroom’s man!” replied Murray, gayly moving off; “I shall be content with a kiss or two from the handmaids, and leave the lady for my general.”
“Happy, happy youth!” said Wallace to himself, as his eyes pursued the agile footsteps of the young chieftain; “no conquering affection has yet thrown open thy heart; no deadly injury hath lacerated it with wounds incurable. Patriotism is a virgin passion in thy breast, and innocence and joy wait upon her!”
“We just muster five hundred men!” observed Ker to Wallace; “but they are all stout in heart as in condition, and ready, even to-night, if you will it, to commence their march.”
“No,” replied Wallace; “we must not overstrain the generous spirit. Let them rest to-night, and to-morrow’s dawn shall light us through the forest.”
Ker, who acted as henchman to Wallace, now returned to the ranks to give the word, and they marched forward.
Sir Alexander Scrymgeour, with his golden standard charged with the lion of Scotland, led the van. Wallace raised his bonnet from his head, as it drew near. Scrymgeour lowered the staff; Wallace threw up his outstretched hand at this action, but the knight not understanding him, he stepped forward. “Sir Alexander Scrymgeour,” cried he, “that standard must now bow to me. It represents the royalty of Scotland, before which we fight for our liberties. If virtue yet dwell in the house of the valiant St. David, some of his offspring will hear of this day, and lead it forward to conquest and to a crown. Till such an hour, let not that standard bend to any man.”
Wallace fell back as he spoke, and Scrymgeour, bowing his head in sign of acquiescence marched on.
Sir Roger Kirkpatrick, at the head of his well-appointed Highlanders next advanced. His blood-red banner streamed to the air, and as it bent to Wallace he saw that the indignant knight had adopted the device of the hardy King Archaius,20 but with a fiercer motto-“Touch, and I pierce!”
20 Archaius, King of Scotland, took for his device the thistle and the Rewe, and for his motto, “For my defense.”
“That man,” thought Wallace, as he passed along, “carried a relentless sword in his very eye!”
The men of Loch Doine, a strong, tall and well-armed body, marched on, and gave place to the advancing corps of Bothwell. The eye of Wallace felt as if turning from gloom and horror to the cheerful light of day, when it fell on the bright and indigenuous face of Murray. Kenneth with his troop followed; and the youthful Edwin, like Cupid in arms, closed the procession.
Being drawn up in line, their chief, fully satisfied, advanced toward them, and expressing his sentiments of the patriotism which brought them into the field, informed them of his intended march. He then turned to Stephen Ireland: “The sun has now set,” said he, “and before dark you must conduct the families of my worthy Lanarkment to the protection of Sir John Scott. It is time that age, infancy, and female weakness should cease their wanderings with us; to-night we bid them adieu, to meet them again, by the leading of the Lord of Hosts, in freedom and prosperity!”
As Wallace ceased, and was retiring from the ground, several old men, and young women with their babes in their arms, rushed from behind the ranks, and throwing themselves at his feet, caught hold of his hands and garments. “We go,” said the venerable fathers, “to pray for your welfare; and sure we are, a crown will bless our country’s benefactor, here or in heaven!”
“In heaven,” replied Wallace, shaking the plumes of his bonnet over his eyes, to hide the moisture which suffused them; “I can have no right to any other crown.”
“Yes,” cried a hoary-headed shepherd, “you free your country from tyrants, and the people’s hearts will proclaim their deliverer their sovereign!”
“May your rightful monarch, worthy patriarch,” said Wallace, “whether a Bruce of a Baliol, meet with equal zeal from Scotland at large; and tyranny must then fall before courage and loyalty!”
The women wept as they clung to his hand ............