The outposts of Carlaveroch soon informed Maxwell the lord regent was in sight. At the joyful intelligence a double smoke streamed from every watch-hill in Annandale; and Sir Eustace had hardly appeared on the Solway bank, to meet his triumphant chief, when the eager speed of the rough knight of Torthorald brought him there also. Wallace, as his proud charger plunged into the ford, and the heavy wagons groaned after him, was welcomed to the shore by the shouts, not only of the soldiers which had followed Maxwell and Kirkpatrick, but by the people who came in crowds to hail their preserver. The squalid hue of famine had left every face, and each smiling countenance, beaming with health, security, and gratitude, told Wallace more emphatically than a thousand tongues, the wisdom of the means he had used to regenerate his country. Maxwell had prepared the fortress of Lochmaben, once the residence of Bruce, for the reception of the regent. And thither Wallace was conducted, in prouder triumph than ever followed the chariot-wheels of Caesar. Blessings were the clarions that preceeded him; and hosts of people, whom he had saved when ready to perish, were voluntary actors in his pageant. When he arrived in sight of the two capacious lochs, which spread like lucid wings on each side of the castle, he turned to Graham. "What pity," said he, "that the rightful owner of his truly regal dwelling does not act as becomes his blood! He might now be entering its gates as king, and Scotland find rest under its lawful monarch." "But he prefers being a parasite in the court of a tyrant," replied Sir John; "and from such a school, Scotland would reject its king." "But he has a son," replied Wallace; "a brave and generous son! I am told by Lord Montgomery, who knew him in Guienne, that a nobler spirit does not exist. On his brows, my dear Graham, we must hope one day to see the crown." "Then only as your heir, my lord regent," interrupted Maxwell; "for while you live, I can answer for it that no Scot will acknowledge any other ruler." "I will first eat my own sword," cried Kirkpatrick. At this moment the portcullis of the gate was raised, and Maxwell falling back to make way for the regent, Wallace had not time to answer a sentiment, now so familiar to him by hearing it from every grateful heart, that he hardly remarked its tendency, a fact the more easily to be believed, from the ambition of such reward never receiving acceptance in his well-principled mind.