"How?" cried she, starting up. "What, then, was that cry I heard? Did they not call you 'prince,' and 'sovereign?' Did not my Lord Buchan-" Confused, disappointed, overpowered, she left the sentence unfinished, sunk on a seat, and burst into tears. At that moment she saw her anticipated crown fall from her head, and having united the gaining of Wallace with his acquisition of this dignity, all her hopes seemed again the sport of winds. She felt as if Wallace had eluded her power, for it was by the ambition-serving acts of her kinsman that she had meant to bind him to her love; and now all was rejected, and she wept in despair. He gazed at her with amazement. What these emotions and his elevation had to do with each other, he could not guess; but, recollecting her manner of mentioning Lord Buchan's name, he answered, "Lord Buchan I have just seen. He and Lord March came upon the carse at the time I went thither to meet my gallant countrymen; and these two noblemen, though so lately the friends of Edward, united with the rest in proclaiming me regent." This word dried the tears of Lady Mar. She saw the shadow of royalty behind it; and summoning artifice, to conceal the joy of her heart, she calmly said, "Do not too severely condemn this weakness; it is not that of vain wishes for your aggrandizement. You are the same to Joanna Mar whether as a monarch or a private man, so long as you possess that supremacy in all, excellence which first gained her esteem. It is for Scotland's sake alone that I wish you to be her king. You have taught me to forget all selfish desires--to respect myself," cried she; "and, from this hour I conjure you to wipe from your memory all my folly--all my love-" With the last word her bosom heaved tumultuously, and she rose in agitation. Wallace now gazed on her with redoubled wonder. She saw it; and hearing a foot in the passage, turned, and grasping his hand, said in a soft and hurried tone, "Forgive, that which is entwined with my heart should cost me some pangs to wrest thence again. Only respect me and I am comforted." Wallace in silence pressed her hand, and the door opened. Lady Ruthven entered. The countess, whose present aim was to throw the virtue of Wallace off its guard, and to take that by sap, which she found resisted open attack, with a penitential air disappeared by another passage. Edwin's gentle mother was followed by the same youth who had brought Helen's packet to Berwick. It was Walter Hay, anxious to be recognized by his benefactor, to whom his recovered health had rendered his person strange. Wallace received him with kindness, and told him to bear his grateful respects to his lady for her care of her charge. Lord Ruthven with others soon entered; and at the appointed hour they attended their chief to the citadel.