“I am neither foe to Scotland’s cause, nor shall be to him whose it is to see her righted, laggard although he be in responding to the urgent call. Farewell to the valiant Bruce! We may meet again, yet nevermore in this holy place; for even three days must not elapse and find him loitering near the stern and subtle Edward, or it will be woe to Scotland and to Scotland’s mightiest lord! Let the Bruce find his way to the altar, upon which I place a token for his keeping and his use—the bugle-horn of the immortal Wallace; with which he summoned to his standard his faithful countrymen, and led them to victory, till he was overcome by treachery and death. Take this sacred bugle-horn, and sound the call for Scotland’s freedom!” Ere the astonished Bruce could answer, a figure shot past him, and was lost in the darkness. The earl, groping his way in the dim light to the altar, found there the precious relic promised; and he went forth under the starlit midnight sky, vowing to strike a blow for his enslaved country. Bruce needed no second warning of his danger, but the very night upon which he received the gilt spurs and purse of gold, he ordered two of his horses to be shod with reversed shoes, so that their course might not be traced, as snow had fallen, and the prints of the horses’ feet would therefore be plainly visible. Then Bruce and one faithful attendant, named Walter Kennedy, hastily mounted their horses, and rode out of London under cover of the darkness of the night. As they left the great city behind them, Walter Kennedy ventured to say,— “If I may be so bold, good master, where gang we on sic a night? Thou bidst me tell our talkative host at the inn, that Garrick’s lord had a love adventure on foot. But me thinkst thou art too true a knight for that.” “Well said, my faithful Walter!” replied Bruce. “’Tis in truth a love adventure, but concerns no lady fair, for my good wife is fairer to me than all other women. But ’tis for love of country we go forth,—to free our bonny Scotland. Surely that were love adventure worthy of both a valiant knight and loyal husband. Still it is for sake of lovely woman also; for my sweet wife and fair daughters are e’en now in Scotland, and I fear me that their liberty, if not their lives, will soon be in danger, as I am warned that the wily King Edward is my bitter enemy and treacherous spy.” “Ha! ’tis well spoken, good master!” exclaimed Kennedy, with enthusiasm, and lifting his Scotch bonnet from his head, he cried aloud, “Bruce to the rescue.” “Hist, man!” said Bruce, laying his hand upon the bridle-rein of his faithful and loyal retainer; “knowest thou not that these English forests secrete hostile ears, to whom thy wild cry wouldst betray us? Not till I have gathered my forces and blown the bugle-horn of the valiant Wallace, will it be safe to openly sound that war-cry.”