"Sir Knight," replied Sir William Wallace, "when the Southron lords delegate a messenger to me, who knows how to respect the representative of the nation to which he is sent, and the agents of his own country, I shall give them my reply. You may withdraw." The Southron stood, resolute to remain where he was; "Do you know, proud Scot," cried he, "to whom you dare address this imperious language? I am the nephew of the lord high constable of England." "It is a pity," cried Murray, looking coolly up from the table, "that he is not here to take his kinsman into custody." Le de Spencer fiercely half drew his sword; "Sir, this insult-" "Must be put up with," cried Wallace, interrupting him, and motioning Edwin to lay his hand on the sword; "you have insulted the nation to which you were sent on a peaceful errand; and having thus invited the resentment of every chief here present, you cannot justly complain against their indignation. But in consideration of your youth, and probable ignorance of what becomes the character of an embassador, I grant you the protection your behavior has forfeited. Sir Alexander Scrymgeour," said he, turning to him, "you will guard Sir Hugh le de Spencer to the Earl de Warenne, and tell that nobleman I am ready to answer any proper messenger." The young Southron, frowning, followed Scrymgeour from the hall, and Wallace, turning to Murray, "My friend," said he, "it is not well to stimulate insolence by repartee. This young man's speech, though an insult to the nation, was directed to me, and by me only it ought to have been answered, and that seriously. The haughty spirit of this man should have been quelled, not incensed; and, had you proceeded one word further, you would have given him an apparently just cause of complaint against you, and of that, my friend, I am most sensibly jealous. It is not policy nor virtue to be rigorous to the extent of justice." "I know," returned Murray, blushing, "that my wits are too many for me; ever throwing me, like Phaeton's horses, into the midst of some fiery mischief. But pardon me now, and I promise to rein them close, when next I see this prancing knight." "Bravo, my Lord Andrew!" cried Kirkpatrick, in an affected whisper, "I am not always to be bird alone, under the whip of our regent; you have had a few stripes, and now look a little of my feather!" "Like as a swan to a vulture, good Roger," answered Murray. Wallace attended not to this tilting of humor between the chieftains, but engaged himself in close discourse with the elder nobles at the higher end of the hall. In half an hour Scrymgeour returned, and with him Baron Hilton. He brought an apology from De Warenne, for the behavior of his embassador; and added his persuasions to the demands of England, that the regent would surrender Berwick, not only as a pledge for the Scots keeping the truce on the borders, but as a proof of his confidence in Prince Edward.