"These dreams," cried De Valence, "cannot terrify me. You are neither a seer, nor I a fool, to be taken by such prophecies. But were you wise enough to embrace the advantage I offer, you might be a prophet of good, greater than he of Ercildown, to your nation; for all that you could promise, I would take care should be fulfilled. But you cast from you your peace and safety; my vengeance shall therefore take its course. I rely not on oracles of heaven or hell; but I have pronounced the doom of my enemies; and though you now see me a prisoner, tremble, haughty Scot, at the resentment which lies in this head and heart. This arm perhaps needs not the armies of Edward to pierce you in your boast!" He left the room as he spoke; and Lord Mar, shaking his venerable head as he disappeared, said to himself: "Impotent rage of passion and of youth, I pity and forgive you." It was not, therefore, so extraordinary that De Valence, when he saw Wallace descending the Ochil hills with the flying banners of new victories, should break into curses of his fortune, and swear inwardly the most determined revenge. Fuel was added to this fire at sunset, when the almost measureless defiles of prisoners, marshaled before the ramparts of Stirling, and taking the usual oath to Wallace, met his view. "To-morrow we quit these dishonoring wall," cried he to himself: "but ere I leave them, if there be power in gold, or strength in my arm, he shall die!" Chapter XLI. The State Prison. The regent's re-entrance into the citadel of Stirling, being on the evening preceding the day he had promised should see the English lords depart for their country, De Warenne, as a mark of respect to a man whom he could not but regard with admiration, went to the barbican-gate to bid him welcome. Wallace appeared; and as the cavalcade of noble Southrons who had lately commanded beyond the Tay, followed him, Murray glanced his eye around, and said with a smile to De Warenne, "You see, sir earl, how we Scots keep our word!" and then he added, "you leave Stirling to-morrow, but these remain till Lord Douglas opens their prison-doors." "I cannot but acquiesce in the justice of your commander's determination," returned De Warenne, "and to comfort these gentlemen under their captivity, I can only tell them that if anything can reconcile them to the loss of liberty, it is being the prisoners of Sir William Wallace." After having transferred his captives to the charge of Lord Mar, Wallace went alone to the chamber of Montgomery, to see whether the state of his wounds would allow him to march on the morrow. While he was yet there, an invitation arrived from the Countess of Mar, requesting his presence at an entertainment which, by her husband's consent, she meant to give that night at Snawdoun, to the Southron lords before their departure for England. "I fear you dare not expend your strength on this party?" inquired Wallace, turning to Montgomery.