THE few chieftains who had
remained on their estates during the suspense before the battle, from a
belief that if the issue proved unfavourable they should be safest amongst
their native glens, now came with numerous trains to greet the return of
their victorious Regent. The ladies brought forth their most splendid
apparel; and the houses of Stirling were hung with tapestry, to hail with
due respect; the benefactor of the land.
At last the hour arrived,
when a messenger, whom Lord Mar had sent out for the purpose, returned on
full speed with information, that the Regent was passing the Canon. At
these tidings the animated old earl called out his retinue, mounted his
coal-black steed, and ordered a sumptuous charger to be caparisoned, with
housings wrought in gold by the hands of Lady Mar and her ladies. The
horse was intended to meet Wallace, and to bring him into the city. Edwin
led it forward. In the rear of the Earls Mar and Badenoch, came all the
chieftains of the country, in gallant array. Their ladies, on splendid
palfreys, followed the superb car of the Countess of Mar; and, preceding
the multitudes of Stirling, left the town a desert. Not a living being
seemed now within its walls, excepting the Southron prisoners; who had
assembled on the top of the citadel to view the return of their conqueror.
Helen remained in Snawdoun,
believing that she was the only soul left in that vast palace. She sat
musing on the extraordinary fate of Wallace; a few months ago a despised
outlaw, at this moment the idol of the nation! And then turned to herself;
the wooed of many a gallant heart ; and now devoted to one, whom, like the
sun, she must ever contemplate with admiration, while he should pass on
above her sphere, unconscious of the devotion which filled her soul.
The distant murmur of the
populace, thronging out of the streets towards the Carse, gradually
subsided; and at last she was left in profound silence. "He must be
near," thought she; "he whose smile is more precious to me than
the adulation of all the world besides, now smiles upon every one! All
look upon him, all hear him, but I—and I—Ah, Wallace, did Marion love
thee dearer ? " As her devoted heart demanded this question, her
tender and delicate soul shrunk within herself, and deeply blushing, she
hid her face in her hands. A pause of a few minutes;— and a sound as if
the skies were rent, tore the air; a noise like the distant roar of the
sea succeeded; and soon after the shouts of an approaching multitude shook
the palace to its foundations. Helen started on her feet; the tumult of
voices augmented ; the sound of coming squadrons thundered over the
ground. At this instant every bell in the city began its peals; and the
door of Helen’s room suddenly opened—Lady Ruthven hurried in.
"Helen," cried she, "I would not disturb you before; but as
you were to be absent, I would not make one in Lady Mar’s train; and I
come to enjoy with you the return of our beloved Regent!"
Helen did not speak; but
her eloquent countenance amply told her aunt what were the emotions of her
heart; and Lady Ruthven taking her hand, attempted to draw her towards an
oriel window which opened to a view of the High Street; but Helen,
shrinking from the movement, begged to be excused. "I hear
enough," said she, "my dear aunt; sights like these overcome me;
let me remain where I am."
Lady Ruthven was going to
remonstrate, when the loud huzzas of the people and soldiers, accompanied
by acclamations of "Long live victorious Wallace, our Prince and King
!" struck Helen back into her seat, and Lady Ruthven darting towards
the window, cried aloud, "He comes, Helen, he comes! His bonnet off
his noble brow. Oh! how princely does he look !—and now he bows. Ah,
they shower flowers upon him from the houses on each side of the street;
how sweetly he smiles, and bows to the ladies, as they lean from their
windows! Come, Helen, come, if you would see the perfection of majesty and
modesty united in one!"
Helen did not move; but
Lady Ruthven stretching out her arm, in a moment had drawn her within view
of Wallace. She saw him attended as a conqueror and a king; but with the
eyes of a benefactor and a brother he looked on all around. The very
memory of war seemed to vanish before his presence, for all there was love
and gentleness. Helen drew a quick sigh, and closing her eyes, dropped
against the arras. She now heard the buzz of many voices, the rolling peal
of acclamations, but she distinguished nothing; her senses were in
tumults; and had not Lady Ruthven seen her disorder, she would have fallen
motionless to the floor. The good matron was not so forgetful of the
feelings of a virtuous youthful heart, not to have discovered something of
what was passing in that of her niece. From the moment in which she had
suspected that Wallace had made a serious impression there, she dropped
all trifling with his name. And now that she saw the distressing effects
of that impression, with revulsed feelings she took the fainting Helen in
her arms, and laying her on a couch; by the aid of volatiles, restored her
to recollection. Seeing her recovered, she made no observation on this
emotion, and Helen leaned her head and wept, upon the bosom of her aunt.
Lady Ruthven’s tears silently mingled with hers; but she said within
herself, "Wallace cannot be always insensible to so much
excellence!"
As the acclaiming populace
passed the palace in their way to the citadel, whither they were escorting
their Regent, Helen remained quiet in her leaning position; but when the
noise died away into hoarse murmurs, she raised her head; and glancing on
the tear-bathed face of her affectionate aunt, said, with a forced smile,
"My more than mother, fear me not! I am grateful to Sir William
Wallace; I venerate him as the Southrons do their St. George; but I need
not your tender pity." As she spoke, her beautiful lip quivered, but
her voice was steady. "My sweetest Helen," replied Lady Ruthven,
"how can I pity her for whom I hope everything !"—"Hope
nothing for me," returned Helen, understanding by her looks, what her
tongue had left unsaid, "but to see me a vestal here, and a saint in
heaven."—."What can my Helen mean?" replied Lady Ruthven;
"who would talk of being a vestal, with such a heart in view as that
of the Regent of Scotland? and that it will be yours, does not his
eloquent gratitude declare ?"—"No, my aunt," answered
Helen, casting down her eyes; "gratitude is eloquent, where love
would be silent. I am not so sacrilegious, as to wish that Sir William
Wallace should transfer that heart to me, which the blood of Marion for
ever purchased. No; Should these people compel him to be their king, I
will retire to some monastery, and for ever devote myself to God, and to
prayers for my country."
The holy composure which
spread over the countenance and figure of Helen, as she uttered this,
seemed to extend itself to the before eager mind of Lady Ruthven: she
pressed her tenderly in her arms, and kissing her; "Gentlest of human
beings!" cried she, "whatever be thy lot, it must be
happy."—"Whatever it be," answered Helen, "I know
that there is an Almighty reason for it: I shall understand it in the
world to come, and I cheerfully acquiesce in this."—"Oh ! that
the ears of Wallace could hear thee !" cried Lady Ruthven.—"They
will, some time, my gracious aunt;" answered she with an angelic
smile.— "When? where? dearest!" asked Lady Ruthven, hoping
that she began to have, fairer anticipations for herself. Helen answered
not; but pointing to the sky, rose from her seat, with an air, as if she
were really going to ascend to those regions, which seemed best fitted to
receive her pure spirit. Lady Ruthven gazed on her in speechless
admiration; and without a word, or an impeding motion, felt Helen softly
kiss her hand, and with another seraphic smile, glide gently from her into
her closet, and close the door.
Far different were the
emotions which agitated the bosoms of every person present at the entry of
Sir William Wallace. All but himself regarded it as the triumph of the
Kind of Scotland. And, while some of the nobles exulted in their future
monarch; the major part felt the demon of envy so possess their souls,
that they who, before his arrival, were ready to worship his name, now
looked on the empire to which he seemed borne on the hearts of the people,
with a rancorous jealousy; which from that moment vowed his humiliation,
or the fall of Scotland. The very tongues which, in the general acclaim,
called loudest, "Long live our King!" belonged to those who, in
the secret recesses of
their souls, swore to work his ruin, and to make these full-blown honours
the means of his destruction. He had in vain tried to check, what his
moderate desires deemed the extravagant gratitude of the people; but
finding his efforts only excited still louder demonstrations of their
love, and knowing himself immovable in his resolution to remain a subject
of the crown, he rode on composedly towards the citadel.
Those ladies who had not
retired from the cavalcade, to hail their Regent a second time from their
windows, preceded him in Lady Mar’s train to the hall; where she had
caused a sumptuous feast to be spread to greet his arrival. Two seats were
placed under a canopy of cloth of gold, at the head of the board. The
Countess stood there, in all the splendour of her ideal rank; and would
have seated Wallace in the royal chair on her right hand, but he drew back
;—"I am only a guest in this citadel," returned he; "and
it would ill become me to take place of the master of the banquet."
As he spoke, he looked on Lord Mar; who, understanding the language of his
eyes, which never said the thing he would not, without a word took the
kingly seat; and so disappointed the Countess. By this refusal, she still
found herself as no more than the governor of Stirling’s wife; when she
had hoped a compliance with her cunning arrangement, would have hinted to
all, that she was to be the future queen of their acknowledged sovereign.
They who knew Wallace, saw his unshaken resolution in this apparently
slight action: but others who read his design, in their own ambition,
translated it differently; and deemed it only an artful rejection of the
appendages of royalty, to excite the impatience of the people to crown him
in reality.
As the ladies took their
seats at the board, Edwin, who stood by the chair of his beloved lord,
whispered, " Our Helen is not here."
Lady Mar overheard the name
of Helen, but she could not distinguish Wallace’s reply; and fearing
that some second assignation, of more happy termination than that of the
chapel might be designed, she determined that if Edwin were to be the
bearer of a secret correspondence between the man she loved, and the
daughter she hated, to deprive them speedily of so ready an assistant.
|