Next morning, instead of coming as usual directly to their acknowledged protector, the Lothian chieftains were seen at different parts of the camp, closely conversing in groups; and when any of Wallace’s officers approached, they separated, or withdrew to a greater distance. This strange conduct Wallace attributed to its right source, and thought of Bruce with a sigh, when he contemplated the variable substance of these men’s minds. However, he was so convinced that nothing but the proclamation of Bruce, and that prince’s personal exertions, could preserve his country from falling again into the snare from which he had just snatched it, that he was preparing to set out for Perthshire with such persuasions, when Ker hastily entered his tent. He was followed by the Lord Soulis, Lord Buchan, and several other chiefs of equally hostile intentions. Soulis did not hesitate to declare his errand.
“We come, Sir William Wallace, by the command of the regent, and the assembled abthanes of Scotland, to take these brave troops, which have performed such good service to their country, from the power of a man who, we have every reason to believe, means to turn their arms against the liberties of the realm. Without a pardon from the state; without the signature of the regent; in contempt of court, which, having found you guilty of high treason, had in mercy delayed to pronounce the sentence on your crime, you have presumed to place yourself at the head of the national troops, and to take to yourself the merit of a victory won by their prowess alone! Your designs are known, and the authority you have despised is now roused to punish. You are to accompany us this day to Stirling. We have brought a guard of four thousand men to compel your obedience.”
Before the indignant spirit of Wallace could utter the answer his wrongs dictated, Bothwell, who at sight of the regent’s troops had hastened to his general’s tent, entered, followed by his chieftains: “Were your guard forty thousand, instead of four,” cried he, “they should not force our commander from us — they should not extinguish the glory of Scotland beneath the traitorous devices of hell-engendered envy and murderous cowardice.”
Soulis turned on him with eyes of fire, and laid his hand on his sword.
“Ay, cowardice!” reiterated Bothwell; “the midnight ravisher, the slanderer of virtue, the betrayer of his country, knows in his heart that he fears to draw aught but the assassin’s steel. He dreads the scepter of honor: Wallace must fall, that vice and her votaries may reign in Scotland. A thousand brave Scots lie under these sods, and a thousand yet survive who may share their graves; but they never will relinquish their invincible leader into the hands of traitors!”
The clamors of the citadel of Stirling now resounded through the tent of Wallace. Invectives, accusations, threatenings, reproaches, and revilings, joined in one turbulent uproar. Again swords were drawn; and Wallace, in attempting to beat down the weapons of Soulis and Buchan, aimed at Bothwell’s heart, must have received the point of Soulis’ in his own body, had he not grasped the blade, and wrenching it out of the chief’s hand, broke it into shivers: “Such be the fate of every sword which Scot draws against Scot!” cried he. “Put up your weapons, my friends. The arm of Wallace is not shrunk, that he could not defend himself, did he think that violence were necessary. Hear my determination, once and forever!” added he. “I acknowledge no authority in Scotland but the laws. The present regent and his abthanes outrage them in every ordinance, and I should indeed be a traitor to my country did I submit to such men’s behests. I shall not obey their summons to Stirling; neither will I permit a hostile arm to be raised in this camp against their delegates, unless the violence begins with them. This is my answer.” Uttering these words he motioned Bothwell to follow him, and left the tent.
Crossing a rude plank-bridge, which then lay over the Eske, he met Lord Ruthven, accompanied by Edwin and Lord Sinclair. The latter came to inform Wallace that embassadors from Edward awaited his presence at Roslyn.
“They came to offer peace to our distracted country,” cried Sinclair.
“Then,” answered Wallace, “I shall not delay going where I may hear the terms.” Horses were brought; and, during their short ride, to prevent the impassioned representations of the still raging Bothwell, Wallace communicated, to his not less indignant friends, the particulars of the scene he had left. “These contentions must be terminated,” added he; “and with God’s blessing, a few days and they shall be so!”
“Heaven grant it!” returned Sinclair, thinking he referred to the proposed negotiation. “If Edward’s offers be at all reasonable, I would urge you to accept them; otherwise invasion from without, and civil commotion within, will probably make a desert of poor Scotland.”
Ruthven interrupted him: “Despair not, my lord! Whatever be the fate of this embassy, let us remember that it is our steadiest friend who decides, and that his arm is still with us to repel invasion, to chastise treason!”
Edwin’s eyes turned with a direful expression upon Wallace, while he lowly murmured: “Treason! hydra treason!”
Wallace understood him, and answered: “Grievous are the alternatives, my friends, which your love for me would persuade you even to welcome. But that which I shall choose will, I trust, indeed lay the land at peace, or point its hostilities to the only aim against which a true Scot ought to direct his sword at this crisis!”
Being arrived at the gate of Roslyn, Wallace, regardless of those ceremonials which often delay the business they pretend to dignify, entered at once into the hall where the embassadors sat. Baron Hilton was one, and Le de Spencer (father of the young and violent envoy ............