The reflection on their enemy which this plea of mercy contained reconciled the impetuous Scots to the clemency of their leader. The rescued man, joyfully recognizing the voice of Wallace, exclaimed, "It is my lord! It is Sir William Wallace that has saved my life a second time!" "Who are you?" asked Wallace; "that helmet can cover no friend of mine." "I am your servant Dugald," returned the man; "he whom your brave arm saved from the battle-ax of Arthur Heselrigge." "I cannot ask you how you came by that armor; but if you be yet a Scot throw it off and follow me." "Not to Ellerslie, my lord," cried he; "it has been plundered and burned to the ground by the Governor of Lanark." "Then," exclaimed Wallace, striking his breast, "are the remains of my beloved Marion forever ravished from my eyes? Insatiate monster!" "He is Scotland's curse," cried the veteran of Largs. "Forward, my lord, in mercy to your country's groans!" Wallace had now mounted the craig which overlooked Ellerslie. His once happy home had disappeared, and all beneath lay a heap of smoking ashes. He hastened from the sight, and directing the point of his sword with a forceful action toward Lanark, re-echoed with supernatural strength, "Forward!" With the rapidity of lightning his little host flew over the hills, reached the cliffs which divided them from the town, and leaped down before the outward trench of the castle of Lanark. In a moment Wallace sprung so feeble a barrier; and with a shout of death, in which the tremendous slogan of his men now joined, he rushed upon the guard that held the northern gate. Here slept the governor. These opponents being slain by the first sweep of the Scottish swords, Wallace hastened onward, winged with twofold retribution. The noise of battle was behind him; for the shouts of his men had aroused the garrison and drawn its soldiers, half-naked, to the spot. He reached the door of the governor. The sentinel who stood there flew before the terrible warrior that presented himself. All the mighty vengeance of Wallace blazed in his face and seemed to surround his figure with a terrible splendor. With one stroke of his foot he drove the door from its hinges, and rushed into the room. What a sight for the now awakened and guilty Heselrigge! It was the husband of the defenseless woman he had murdered come in the power of justice, with uplifted arm and vengeance in his eyes? With a terrific scream of despair, and an outcry for the mercy he dared not expect, he fell back into the bed and sought an unavailing shield beneath its folds.