"Your sight deceives
you," said he, "it is only the sunbeams playing on the
cliffs."
"Then those cliffs are
moving ones:" cried De Warenne, which, I fear, have ground our
countrymen on the coast to powder! We shall find Wallace here before
sunset; to show us how he has resented the affront, our ill-advised prince
cast on his jealous honour."
"His honour,"
returned De Valence, "is like that of his countrymen’s; an enemy
alike to his own interest, and to that of others. Had it allowed him to
accept the crown of Scotland, and so have fought Edward with the
concentrating arm of a king; or would he even now, offer peace to our
sovereign, granting his prerogative as liege lord of the country, all
might go well; but as the honour, you speak of, prevents his using these
means of ending the contest, destruction must close his career."
"And what
quarrel," demanded De Warenne, "can you, my Lord de Valence,
have against this nice honour of Sir William Wallace, since you allow it
secures the final success of our cause?"
"His honour, and himself, are
hateful to me !" impatiently answered De Valence; "he crosses me
in my wishes, public and private; and for the sake of my king and myself,
I might almost be tempted—" He turned pale as be spoke, and met the
penetrating glance of De Warenne. He paused.
"Tempted to
what?" asked Warenne.
"To a Brutus mode of ridding
the state of an enemy."
"That might be noble in a Roman
citizen;" returned De Warenne, "which would be villanous in an
English lord; treated as you have been by a generous victor; not the
usurper of any country’s liberties, but rather a Brutus in defence of
his own. Which man of us all, from the general to the meanest follower in
our camps, has he injured?"
Lord Aymer frowned: "Did he not
expose me, threaten me with an ignominious death, on the walls of Stirling
?"
"But
was it, before he saw the Earl of Mar, with his hapless family,
brought, with halters on their necks, to be suspended from this very tower
?—-Ah ! what a tale has the lovely Countess
told me, of that direful scene! What he then did, was to check the
sanguinary Cressingham from embruing his hands in the blood of female and
infant innocence."
"I care not," cried De
Valence, "what are, or are not the offences of this domineering
Wallace, but I hate him; amid my respect for his advocates, cannot but
correspond with that feeling." As he spoke, that he might not be
further molested by the arguments of De Warenne, he abruptly turned away,
and left the battlements.
Pride would not allow the
enraged earl to confess his private reasons for this vehement enmity
against the Scottish chief. A conference which he had held the preceding
evening with Lord Mar, was the cause of this augmented hatred; and, from
that moment, the haughty Southron vowed the destruction of Wallace, by
open-attack, or secret treachery. Ambition, and the base counteifeit of
love, those two master passions in untempered minds, were the springs of
this antipathy. The instant in which he knew that the young creature,
whom, at a distance, he discerned clinging around the Earl of Mar’s neck
in the streets of Stirling, was the same Lady Helen, on whose account Lord
Soulis had poured on him such undeserved invectives in Bothwell Castle;
curious to have a nearer view of one, whose transcendent beauty he had
often heard celebrated by others, he ordered her to be immediately
conveyed to his apartments in the citadel.
On their first interview,
he was more struck by her personal charms, than he had ever been with any
Woman’s; although few were so noted for gallantry in the English court,
as himself. He could hardly understand the nature of his feelings, while
discoursing with her. To all others of her sex, he had declared his
enamoured wishes, with as much ease as vivacity; but when he looked on
Helen, the admiration her loveliness inspired, was checked by an
indescribable awe. No word of passion escaped his lips; he sought to win
her by a deportment consonant with her own dignity of manners; and
obeyed all her wishes, excepting when they pointed to any communication
with her parents. He feared the wary eyes of the Earl of Mar. But nothing
of this reverence of Helen, was grounded on any principle within the heart
of De Valence. His idea of virtue was so erroneous, that he believed, by
the short assumption of its semblance, he might so steal on the confidence
of his victim, as to induce her to forget all the world.; nay, heaven
itself, in his sophistry and blandishments. To facilitate this end, he at
first designed to precipitate the condemnation of the Earl, that he
might be rid of a father’s existence holding, in dread of his censure,
the perhaps otherwise yielding heart of his lovely intended
mistress.
The unprincipled and
impure, can have no idea, that virtue or delicacy, are other than
vestments of disguise, or adornament, to be thrown off at will; and
therefore, to reason with such minds, is to talk to the winds—to tell a
man. who is born blind, to decide between two colours. In short, a
libertine heart is the same in all ages of the world. De Valence,
therefore, seeing the anguish of her fears for her father, and hearing the
fervour with which she implored for his life, adopted the plan of granting
the Earl reprieves from day to day; and inspite of the remonstrances of
Cressingham, he intended (after having worked upon the terrors of Helen)
to grant to her her father’s release, on condition of her yielding
herself to be his. He had even meditated, that the accomplishment of this
device, should have taken place the very night in which Wallace's first
appearance before Stirling had called its garrison to arms.
Impelled by vengeance
against the man who had driven him from Dumbarton and from Ayr, and
irritated at being delayed, in the moment when his passion was to seize
its object, De Valence thought to end all by a coup de main, and
rushing out of the gates, was taken prisoner. Such was the situation of
things, when Wallace first became master of the place.
Now when the whole of the
English army were in the same captivity with himself, when he saw the
lately proscribed Lord Mar, governor of Stirling, and that the Scottish
cause seemed triumphant on every side, De Valence changed his former
illicit views on Helen, and bethought him of making her his wife.
Ambition, as well as love, impelled him to this resolution; for he aspired
to the dignity of Lord Warden of Scotland; and, he foresaw, that the vast
influence which his marriage with the daughter of Mar, must give him in
the country, would be a decisive argument with the King of England.
To this purpose, not
doubting the Scottish Earls acceptance of such a son-in-law, on the very
day that Wallace marched towards the coast, De Valence sent to request an
hour's private audience of Lord Mar. He could not then grant it; but at
noon, next day, they met in the governor’s apartments.
The Southron, without much
preface, opened his wishes, and proffered his hand for the Lady Helen;
"I will make her the proudest lady in Great Britain," continued
he; "for she shall have a court in my Welsh province, little inferior
to that of Edward’s queen."
"Pomp would have no
sway with my daughter," replied the Earl; "it is the princely
mind, she values, not its pageantry. Whomsoever she prefers, the tribute
will be paid to the merit of the object, not to his rank; and therefore,
Earl, should it be you, the greater will be your pledge of happiness. I
shall repeat to her what you have said and to-morrow deliver her
answer."
Not deeming it possible
that it should be otherwise than favourable, De Valence allowed his
imagination to roam over every anticipated delight. He exulted in the
pride, with which he would show this perfection of northern beauty, to the
fair of England: how would the simple graces of her seraphic form, which
looked more like a being of air than of earth, put to shame the laboured
beauties of the court! And then it was not only the artless charms of a
wood-nymph, he should present to the wondering throng, but a being, whose
majesty of soul proclaimed her high descent, and peerless virtues. How did
he congratulate himself, in contemplating this unsullied temple of virgin
innocence, that he had never, by even the vapour of one impassioned sigh,
contaminated her pure ear; or broken the magic spell, which seemed fated
to crown him with happiness unknown, with honour unexampled! To be so
blessed, so distinguished, so envied, was to him a dream of triumph, that
wafted away all remembrance of his late defeat; and, he believed, in
taking Helen from Scotland, he should bear away a richer prize, than any
he could leave behind.
Full of these
anticipations, he attended the governor of Stirling the next day, to hear
his daughter’s answer. But unwilling to give the Earl that advantage
over him, which knowledge of his views in the marriage might occasion, he
affected a composure he did not feel; and with a lofty air entered the
room, as if he were come rather to confer than to beg a favour. This
deportment did not lessen the satisfaction with which the brave Scot
opened his mission.
"My Lord, I have just
seen my daughter. She duly appreciates the honour you would confer on her;
she is grateful for all your courtesies, whilst she was your prisoner; but
beyond that sentiment, her heart, attached to her native land, cannot
sympathise with your wishes."
De Valence started. He did
not expect anything in the shape of a denial; but supposing, that perhaps
a little of his own art was tried by the father, to enhance the value of
his daughter’s yielding, he threw himself into a chair, and affecting
chagrin at a disappointment (which he did not believe was seriously
intended), exclaimed with vehemence, "Surely, Lord Mar, this is not
meant as a refusal ! I cannot receive it as such, for I know Lady
Helen’s gentleness; I know the sweet tenderness of her nature would
plead for me, were she to see me at her feet, and hear me pour forth the
most ardent passion that ever burnt in a human breast. Oh, my gracious
Lord, if it be her attachment to Scotland, which alone militates against
me, I will promise that her time shall be passed between the two
countries. Her marriage with me, may facilitate that peace with England,
which must be the wish of us all; and perhaps the Lord Wardenship, which
De Warenne now holds, may be transferred to me. I have reasons for
expecting that it will be so; and then, she, as a queen in Scotland, and
you as her father, may claim every distinction from her fond husband,
every indulgence for the Scots, which your patriot heart can dictate. This
would be a certain benefit to Scotland; while the ignis fatuus you
are now following, however brilliant may be its career during Edward’s
absence, must, on his return, be extinguished in disaster, and
infamy."
The silence of the Earl of Mar, who,
willing to hear all that was in the mind of De Valence, had let him
proceed uninterrupted, encouraged the Southron lord to say more than he
had at first intended to reveal; but when he made a pause, and seemed to
expect an answer, the Earl spoke :— "I am fully sensible of the
honour you would bestow upon my daughter, and myself, by your alliance;
but, as I have said before, her heart is too devoted to Scotland, to marry
any man whose birth does not make it his duty to prefer
the liberty of her native land, even before his love for her. That hope,
to see our country freed from a yoke unjustly laid upon her,—that hope;
which you, not considering our rights, or weighing the power that lies in
a just cause, denominate an ignis fatuus, is the only passion, I
believe, that lives in the gentle bosom of my Helen; and therefore, noble
Earl, not even your offers, can equal the measure of her wishes."
At this speech, De Valence bit his
lip with real disappointment; and starting from his chair, now in
unaffected disorder; "I am not to be deceived, Lord Mar; cried he;
"I am not to be cajoled, by the pretended patriotism of your
daughter; I know the sex too well, to be cheated with these excuses. The ignis
fatuus, that leads your daughter from my arms, is not the freedom of
Scotland, but the handsome rebel who conquers in its name! He is now
fortune’s minion: but he will fall, Lord Mar, and then, what will be the
fate of his mad adherents ?"
"Earl
de Valence," replied the veteran; "sixty winters have checked
the tides of passion in my veins; but the indignation of my soul, against
any insult offered to my daughter’s delicacy, or to the name of the Lord
Regent of Scotland, is not less powerful in my breast! You are my
prisoner; and I pardon, what I could so easily avenge. I will even answer
you and say, that I do not know of any exclusive affection subsisting
between my daughter, and Sir William Wallace; but this I am assured of,
that were it the case, she would be more ennobled in being the wife of so
true a patriot, and so virtuous a man, than were she advanced to the bosom
of an emperor. And for myself! were he to-morrow hurled by a mysterious
providence from his present nobly-won elevation, I should glory in my son,
were he such; and, would think him as great on a scaffold, as on a
throne."
"It is well that is your
opinion;" replied De Valence, stopping in his wrathful strides, and
turning on Mar with vengeful irony; "cherish these heroics, for you
will suredly see him so exalted. Then, where will be his triumphs over
Edward’s arms, and Pembroke’s heart ?—Where your daughter’s
patriot husband; your glorious son? Start not old man,—for by all the
powers of hell I swear, that some eyes which now look proudly on the
Southron host, shall close in blood! I denounce a fact!"
"If you do;" replied Mar,
shuddering at the demoniac fire that lightened from the countenance of De
Valence, "it must be by the agency of devils; and their minister,
vindictive earl, will meet the vengeance of the eternal
arm!"
"These dreams," cried De Valence,
"cannot terrify me. You are neither a seer, nor I a fool to be taken
by such prophecies. But were you wise enough to the advantage I offer, you
might be a prophet of good, greater than he of Ereildoun, to your nation;
for all that you could promise, I would take care should be ful-filled.
But you cast from you, your peace and safety; my vengeance shall therefore
take its course. I rely not on oracles of heaven, nor hell; but I have
pronounced the doom of my enemies: and though you now see me a
prisoner,—tremble, haughty Scot, at the resentment which lies in this
head and heart! This arm, perhaps, needs not the armies of Edward, to
pierce you in your boast!"
He left the room as he spoke; and Lord Mar,
shaking his venerable head as he disappeared, said to himself—
"Impotent rage or passion and of youth, I pity and forgive you!"
It was not, therefore, so extraordinary
that De Valence when he saw Wallace descending the Ochil hills, with the
flying banners of new victories, should break into curses of his fortune,
and swear, inwardly, the most determined revenge.
Fuel was added to this fire, at sunset,
when the almost measureless defiles of prisoners, marshalled before the
ramparts of Stirling, and taking the usual oath to Wallace, met his view.
"To-morrow, we quit these dishonouring
walls," cried he to himself; "but ere I leave them, if there be
power in gold, or strength in my arm, he shall die !"