Scotland -- History -- War of Independence, 1285-1371 -- Fiction
It was noon before the chief awoke from the death-like sleep into which
kind nature had plunged his long-harassed senses. He opened his eyes
languidly, and when the sight of his rocky apartment forced on him the
recollection of all his miseries, he uttered a deep groan. That sad
sound, so different from the jocund voice with which Wallace used to
issue from his rest, struck on the heart of Halbert; he drew near his
master to receive his last commands for Bothwell. "On my knees," added
he, "will I implore the earl to send you succor."
"He needs not prayers for that," returned Wallace; "but depart, dear,
worthy Halbert; it will comfort me to know you are in safety; and
whithersoever you go, you carry my thanks and blessings with you."
Old age opens the fountains of tears; Halbert's flowed profusely, and
bathed his master's hand. Could Wallace have wept, it would have been
then; but that gentle emollient of grief was denied to him, and, with a
voice of assumed cheerfulness, he renewed his efforts to encourage his
desponding servant. Half persuaded that a Superior Being did indeed
call his beloved master to some extraordinary exertions for Scotland,
Halbert bade him an anxious farewell, and then withdrew to commit him
to the fidelity of the companions of his destiny.
A few of them led the old man on his way, as far as the western
declivity of the hills, and then, bidding him good speed, he took the
remainder of his journey alone.
After traversing many a weary mile, between Cartlane Craigs and
Bothwell Castle, he reached the valley in which that fortress stands,
and calling to the warder at his gates, that he came from Sir William
Wallace, was immediately admitted, and conducted into the castle.
Halbert was led by a servant into a spacious chamber, where the earl
lay on a couch. A lady, richly habited, and in the bloom of life, sat
at his head. Another, much younger, and of resplendent beauty, knelt
at his feet, with a salver of medicinal cordials in her hand. The Lady
Marion's loveliness had been that of a soft moonlight evening; but the
face which now turned upon Halbert as he entered, was "full of light,
and splendor, and joy;" and the old man's eyes, even though dimmed in
tears, were dazzled. A young man stood near her. On the entrance of
Halbert, whom the earl instantly recognized, he raised himself on his
arm, and welcomed him. The young lady rose, and the young man stepped
eagerly forward.
The earl inquired anxiously for Sir William Wallace, and asked if he
might expect him soon at Bothwell.
"He cannot yet come, my lord," replied Halbert; "hard is the task he
has laid upon his valiant head; but he is avenged! He has slain the
Governor of Lanark." A faint exclamation broke from the lips of the
young lady.
"How?" demanded the earl.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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