At this moment, the lines which guarded the outworks of Stirling opened from right to left, and discovered Wallace advancing on a white charger. When the conqueror of Edward's hosts appeared--the deliverer of Scotland--a mighty shout, from the thousands around, rent the skies, and shook the earth on which they stood. Wallace raised his helmet from his brow, as by an instinctive motion every hand bent the sword or banner it contained. "He comes in the strength of David!" cried the venerable bishop of Dunkeld, who appeared at the head of his church's tenantry; "Scots, behold the Lord's anointed!" The exclamation, which burst like inspiration from the lips of the bishop, struck to every heart. "Long live our William the Lion! our Scottish King!" was echoed with transport by every follower on the ground; and while the reverberating heavens seemed to ratify the voice of the people, the lords themselves (believing that he who won had the best right to enjoy) joined in the glorious cry. Galloping up from the front of their ranks, they threw themselves from their steeds, and before Wallace could recover from the surprise into which this unexpected salutation had thrown him, Lord Bothwell and Lord Loch-awe, followed by the rest, had bent their knees, and acknowledged him to be their sovereign. The Bishop of Dunkeld at the same moment drawing from his breast a silver dove of sacred oil, poured it upon the unbonneted head of Wallace. "Thus, O King!" cried he, "do I consecrate on earth, what has already received the unction of Heaven!" Wallace, at this action, was awe-struck, and raising his eyes to that Heaven, his soul in silence breathed its unutterable devotion. Then looking on the bishop: "Holy father," said he, "this unction may have prepared my brows for a crown, but it is not of this world, and Divine Mercy must bestow it. Rise, lords!" and as he spoke, he flung himself from his horse, and taking Lord Bothwell by the hand, as the eldest of the band, "kneel not to me," cried he; "I am to you what Gideon was to the Israelites--your fellow-soldier. I cannot assume the scepter you would bestow; for He who rules us all has yet preserved to you a lawful monarch. Bruce lives. And were he extinct, the blood royal flows in too many noble veins in Scotland for me to usurp its rights." "The rights of the crown lie with the only man in Scotland who knows how to defend them! else reason is blind, or the nation abandons its own prerogative. What we have this moment vowed, is not to be forsworn. Baliol has abdicated our throne; the Bruce deserted it; all our nobles slept till you awoke; and shall we bow to men who may follow, but will not lead? No, bravest Wallace, from the moment you drew the first sword for Scotland, you made yourself her lawful king."