Scotland -- History -- War of Independence, 1285-1371 -- Fiction
"And may its guardian care shield all here!" replied the knight. Helen
looked up to bid him a last farewell--but he was gone. The hermit had
left the cell with him, and the youth also had disappeared into the
inner cave. Being left alone, she threw herself down before the altar,
and giving way to a burst of tears, inwardly implored protection for
that brave knight's life; and by his means to grant safety to Wallace,
and freedom to her father!
As she prayed, her emotion subsided and a holy confidence elevating her
mind, she remained in an ecstasy of hope, till a solemn voice from
behind her called her from this happy trance.
"Blessed are they which put their trust in God!"
She calmly rose, and perceived the hermit; who, on entering, had
observed her devout position, and the spontaneous benediction broke
from his lips. "Daughter," said he, leading her to a seat, "this hero
will prevail; for the Power before whose altar you have just knelt, has
declared, 'My might is with them who obey my laws, and put their trust
in me!' You speak highly of the young and valiant Sir William Wallace,
but I cannot conceive that he can be better formed for great and heroic
deeds than this chief. Suppose them, then, to be equal, when they have
met, with two such leaders, what may not a few determined Scots
perform?"
Helen sympathized with the cheering prognostications of the hermit; and
wishing to learn the name of this rival of a character she had regarded
as unparalleled, she asked, with a blush, by what title she must call
the knight who had undertaken so hazardous an enterprise for her.
Chapter XVII.
The Hermit's Cell.
"I know not," returned the hermit; "I never saw your gallant deliverer
before yesterday morning. Broken from my matins by a sudden noise, I
beheld a deer rush down the precipice, and fall headlong. As he lay
struggling amongst the stones at the entrance of my cave, I had just
observed an arrow in his side, when a shout issued from the rocks
above, and looking up, I beheld a young chieftain, with a bow in his
hand, leaping from cliff to cliff, till springing from a high
projection on the right, he alighted at once at the head of the wounded
deer.
"I emerged from the recess that concealed me, and addressed him with
the benediction of the morning. His plaided followers immediately
appeared, and with a stroke of their ready weapons slew the animal.
The chief left them to dress it for their own refreshment; and on my
invitation, entered the cell to share a hermit's fare.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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