The Scottish Chiefs. Jane Porter

pursuer has marched toward Bothwell, too sure to commit the horrid violence he meditates; there are none to guard my child but a few domestics, the unpracticed sword of my stripling nephew, and the feeble arms of my wife."

      "Be easy on that head," interrupted Wallace: "I believe the infamous leader of the banditti fell by my hand, for the soldiers made an outcry that Arthur Heselrigge was killed; and then pressing on me to take revenge, their weight broke a passage into a vault, through which I escaped-"

      "Save, save yourself, my master!" cried a man rushing in from the garden. "You are pursued-"

      While he spoke he felt insensible at Wallace's feet. It was Dugald whom he had rescued from the blow of Heselrigge, and who, from the state of his wound had been thus long in reaching Ellerslie.

      Wallace had hardly time to give him to the care of Halbert, when the voice of war assailed his ears. The tumult of men demanding admittance and the terrible sound of spears rattling against the shields of their owners, told the astonished group within that the house was beset by armed foes.

      "Blood for blood!" cried a horrid voice, which penetrated the almost palsied senses of Lady Marion. "Vengence on Wallace, for the murder of Heselrigge!"

      "Fly, fly!" cried she, looking wildly at her husband.

      "Whither?" answered he, supporting her in his arms. "Would this be a moment to leave you, and our wounded guest? I must meet them."

      "Not now!" cried Lord Mar. "Hear you not how numerous they are? Mark that shout! they thirst for blood. If you have love, pity, for your wife, delay not a moment. Again-"

      The uproar redoubled, and the room was instantly filled with shrieking women in their night-clothes, the attendants of Lady Wallace. She almost expiring, on her husband's breast.

      "O my lord!" cried the terrified creatures, wringing their hands, "what will become of us! The Southrons are at the gates, and we shall be lost forever!"

      "Fear not," replied Wallace; "retire to your chambers. I am the person they seek: none else will meet with injury."

      Appeased by this assurance, the women retreated to their apartments; and Wallace, turning to the earl, who continued to enforce the necessity of his flight, repeated, that he would not consent to leave his wife in such a tumult.

      "Leave me," cried she, in an inarticulate voice, "or see me die."

      As she spoke, there was a violent crash, and a tremendous burst of imprecations. Three of Wallace's men ran panting into the room. Two of the assailants had climbed to the hall window; and had just been thrown back upon the cliffs, where one was killed. "Conceal yourself," said the Scots to Wallace; "for in a few minutes more your men will not be able to maintain the gates."

      "Yes, my dear lord," cried Halbert, "there is a dry well at the end of the garden; at the bottom of that you will be safe."

      "By your love for me, Wallace—by all you owe to the tender affections of your grandfather, hearken to him!" cried Lady Marion, falling at his feet, and clasping his knees. "I kneel for my life in kneeling for yours! Pity the gray hairs of Sir Ronald, whom your untimely death would bring to the grave! Pity your unborn child! Fly, Wallace, fly if you would have me live!" She was pale and breathless.

      "Angel of my life," exclaimed Wallace, straining her to his heart, "I obey thee. But if the hand of one of the desperate robbers dares to touch thy hallowed person-"

      "Think not so, my lord," interrupted Halbert; "it is you they seek.

       Not finding you, they will be too eager in pursuit to molest your lady."

      "I shall be safe," whispered Marion; "only fly—while you are here, their shouts kill me."

      "But thou shalt go with me," returned he; "the well will contain us all. But first let our faithful Halbert and these honest fellows lower Lord Mar into the place of refuge. He being the cause of the affray, if discovered, would be immediately sacrificed."

      Lord Mar acquiesced; and while the contention was so loud without, as to threaten the tearing down of the walls, the earl was carried into the garden. He was followed by Sir William Wallace, to whose arm his wife yet fondly clung. At every cry of the enemy, at every shock they gave to his yet impregnable gates, she breathed the shorter, and was clasped by the lord of her heart still more closely to his bosom.

      At the well-side they found the earl bound with rope that was to lower him to the bottom. By great care it was safely done; and the cord being brought up again, before it was tied round Wallace (for his agonized wife insisted he should descend next), he recollected that the iron box at his side might hurt the wounded nobleman by striking him in his descent; and, unbuckling it, he said it contained matters of great value, and ordered it to be lowered first.

      Lord Mar, beneath, was releasing it from the rope, when a shout of triumph pierced their ears. A party of the English, having come round the heights, had leaped the wall of the garden, and were within a few yards of the well. For Wallace to descend now was impossible. "That tree!" whispered Marion, pointing to an oak-tree near which they stood. As she spoke, she slid from his arms, and along with the venerable Halbert, who had seized her hand, disappeared amid the adjoining thicket. The two servants fled also.

      Wallace, finding himself alone, the next instant, like one of his native eagles, was looking down from the towering top of the wood upon his enemies. They passed beneath him, denouncing vengeance upon the assassin of Arthur Heselrigge! One, who by the brightness of his armor seemed to be their leader, stopped under the tree, and complained he had so sprained his ankle in leaping the wall, he must wait a few minutes to recover himself. Several soldiers drew toward him; but he ordered them to pursue their duty, search the house, and bring Wallace, dead or alive, before him.

      They obeyed; but others, who had gained admittance to the tower through the now forced gates, soon ran to him with information that the murderer could nowhere be found.

      "But here is a gay ladie," cried one; "perhaps she can tell of his hiding-place." And at moment Marion, with Halbert, appeared amongst a band of men. The lighted torches which the soldiers held, shone full on her face. Though pale as monumental marble, the exquisite beauty of her features, and the calm dignity which commanded from her eyes, awed the officer into respect and admiration.

      "Soldiers, stand back!" cried he, advancing to Lady Wallace. "Fear not, madam." As the words passed his lips, a flight of arrows flew into the bosom of the tree. A piercing shriek from Marion was her only answer. "Hah! my lady's falcon!" cried Halbert alarmed, doubly, for the fate of his master. A sudden agitation of the branches having excited an indefinite suspicion in a body of archers who stood near, with one impulse they had discharged their arrows to the spot. Halbert's ready excuse, both for the disturbance in the tree and his lady's shriek, was prompted and warranted true by the appearance of a large bird, which the rushing of the arrows had frighted from her nest; she rose suddenly from amongst the branches, and soared away, far to the east, with loud screams.

      All being again still, Marion hoped that her husband had escaped any serious injury from the arrows; and turning with recovered composure to the officer, heard him, with a glow of comfort, reprimand his men for daring to draw their bows without his orders. Then addressing her, "I beg your pardon, madam," said he, "both for the alarm these hot-headed men have occasioned you, and for the violence they have committed in forcing one of your sex and beauty before me. Had I expected to have found a lady here, I should have issued orders to have prevented this outrage; but I am sent hither in quest of Sir William Wallace, who, by a mortal attack made on the person of the Governor of Lanark's nephew, has forfeited his life. The scabbard of his sword, found beside the murdered Heselrigge, is an undeniable proof of his guilt. Direct us to find him, and not only your release, but the favor of the English monarch will await your allegiance."

      "I am Sir William Wallace's wife," returned the gentle Marion, in a firm tone; "and by what authority you seek him thus, and presume to call him guilty, I cannot understand."

      "By the authority of the laws, madam, which he has violated."

      "What laws?" rejoined she; "Sir William