DAYBREAK gleamed over the sky, before
the wondering spectators of the late extraordinary scene had dispersed to
their quarters.
De Warenne was so well convinced by what had dropped
from De Valence, of his having been the assassin, that when they met at
sunrise to take horse for the borders, he made him no other salutation
than an exclamation of surprise, "not to find him under an arrest,
for the last night’s work!"
"The wily Scot knew better,"
replied De Valence, "than so to expose the reputation of the lady. He
knew that she received the wound in his arms, and he durst not seize me,
for fear I should proclaim it."
"He cannot fear
that," replied De Warenne, "for he has proclaimed it himself. He
has told every particular of his meeting with Lady Helen in the chapel;
even her sheltering him with her arms; so there is nothing for you
to declare, but your own infamy. For infamous I must call it, Lord Aymer;
and nothing but the respect I owe my country, prevents me pointing the
eyes of the indignant Scots to you; nothing but the stigma, your exposure
would bring upon the English name, could make me conceal the deed."
De Valence laughed at this
speech of De Warenue’s. "Why, my Lord Warden:" said he,
"have you been taking lessons of this doughty Scot, that you talk
thus? It was not with such sentiments, you overthrew the princes of Wales,
and made the kings of Ireland fly before you! You would tell another
story, were your own interest in question; and I can tell you, that my
vengeance is not satisfied. I will yet see the brightness of those eyes,
on which the proud daughter of Mar hangs so fondly, extinguished in death.
Maid or wife, Helen shall be torn from his arms; and if I cannot make her
a virgin bride, she shall at least be mine as his widow; for I swear, not
to be disappointed."
"Shame, De Valence! I should
blush to owe my courage to rivalry; or my perseverance in the field, to a
licentious passion! You know what you have confessed to me, were once your
designs on Helen Mar."
"Every man according
to his nature !" returned De Valence; and shrugging his shoulders, he
mounted his horse.
The cavalcade of Southrons,
now appeared. They were met on the Carse, by the Regent; who, not
regarding the smart of a closing wound, advanced at the head of ten
thousand men, to see his prisoners over the borders. By Helen’s desire,
Lord Mar had informed Wallace, what had been the threats of De Valence;
and that she suspected him to be the assassin. But this suspicion was put
beyond a doubt, by the evidence of the dagger, which Edwin had found in
the chapel; its hilt was enamelled with the martlets of De Valence.
At sight of it, a general
indignation filled the Scottish chiefs; and assembling round their Regent,
with one breath they demanded that the false earl should be detained, and
punished as became the honour of nations, for so execrable a breach of all
laws, human and divine. Wallace replied, that he believed the attack to
have been instigated by a personal motive; and, therefore, as he was the
object, not the state of Scotland, he should merely acquaint the Earl that
his villany was known, and let the shame of disgrace be his punishment.
"Ah !". observed
Lord Bothwell, "men who trample on conscience, soon get over
shame."
"True," replied
Wallace; " but I suit my actions to my own mind, not to my enemy’s;
and if he cannot feel dishonour, I will not so far disparage myself, as to
think one so base, worthy my resentment."
While he was quieting the
reawakened indignation of his nobles, whose blood began to boil afresh at
sight of the assassin, the Southron lords, conducted by Lord Mar,
approached. When that nobleman drew near, Wallace’s first inquiry was
for Lady Helen. The Earl informed him, he had received intelligence of her
having slept without fever, and that she was not awake when the messenger
came off with his good tidings. That all was likely to be well with her,
was comfort to Wallace; and, with an unruffled brow, riding up to the
squadron of Southrons, which was headed by De Warenne and De Valence, he
immediately approached the latter, and drawing but the dagger, held it
towards him: "The next time, Sir Earl," said he, "that you
draw this dagger, let it be with a more knightly aim than assassination
!"
De Valence, surprised, took
it in confusion, and without answer; but his countenance told the state of
his mind. He was humbled by the man he hated; and while a sense of the
disgrace he had incurred, tore his proud soul, he had not dignity enough
to acknowledge the generosity of his enemy, in again giving him a life
which his treachery had so often forfeited. Having taken the dagger, he
wreaked the exasperated vengeance of his malice, upon the senseless steel,
and breaking it asunder, threw the pieces into the air; while turning from
Wallace with an affected disdain, he exclaimed to the shivered weapon,
"You shall not betray me again!"
"Nor you betray our
honours," Lord de Valence, exclaimed Earl de Warenne: "and
therefore, though the nobleness of Sir William Wallace leaves you at large
after this outrage on his person, we will assert our innocence of
connivance with the deed; and, as Lord Warden of this realm, I order you
under an arrest till we pass the Scottish lines."
"‘Tis well,"
cried Hilton, "that such is your determination, my Lord; else no
honest man could have continued in the same company, with one who has so
tarnished the English name."
"No !" cried his
brother baron, venerable Blenkinsopp, reining up his steed; "I would
forfeit house and lands first."
De Valence, with an
ironical smile, looked towards the squadron which approached to obey De
Warenne; and haughtily answered, "Though it be dishonour to you, to
march with me out of Scotland, the proudest of you, all will deem it an
honour to be allowed to return with me hither. I have an eye on those who
stand with cap in hand to rebellion. And for you, Sir William
Wallace," added he, turning to him, who was also curbing his
impatient charger, "I hold no terms with a rebel; and deem all honour,
that would rid my sovereign, and the earth, of such low-born
arrogance."
Before Wallace could
answer, he saw De Valence struck from his horse by the Lochaber-axe of
Edwin. Indignant at the insult offered to his beloved commander, he had
suddenly raised his arm; and aiming a blow with all his strength, the Earl
was immediately stunned, and precipitated to the ground.
At sight of the fall of the
Southron chief, the Scottish troops, aware of there being some
misunderstanding between their Regent and the English lords, uttered a
shout. Wallace, to prevent accidents, sent instantly to the lines, to
appease the tumult; and throwing himself off his horse, hastened to the
prostrate Earl. A fearful pause reigned throughout the Southron ranks.
They did not know but that the enraged Scots would now fall on them, and,
in spite of their Regent, exterminate them on the spot. The troops were
running forward, when Wallace’s messengers arrived, and checked them;
and himself, calling to Edwin, stopped his farther chastisement of the
recovering earl.
"Edwin, you have done
wrong," cried he; "give me that weapon, which you have sullied,
by raising it against a prisoner totally in our power."
With a vivid blush, the
noble boy resigned the weapon to his general; yet, with an unappeased
glance on the prostrate De Valence, he exclaimed, "But have you not
granted life twice to this prisoner? and has he not, in return, raised his
hand against your life and Lady Helen? You pardon him again! and, in the
moment of your clemency, he insults the Lord Regent of Scotland, in the
face of both nations! I could not hear this, and live, without making him
feel that you have those about you who will not forgive such crimes."
"Edwin," returned
Wallace, "had not the Lord Regent, power to punish? And if he see
right to hold his hand, those who strike for him, invade his dignity. I
should be unworthy the honour of protecting a brave nation, did I stoop to
tread on every reptile that stings me in my path. Leave Lord de Valence to
the sentence his commander has pronounced; and, as an expiation for your
having offended both military and moral law. this day, you must remain at
Stirling, till I return into Scotland."
De Valence, hardly awake
from the stupor which the blow of the battle-axe had occasioned (for
indignation had given to the young warrior the strength of manhood), was
raised from the ground; and soon after coming to himself, and being made
sensible of what had happened, he was taken, foaming with rage and
mortification, into the centre of the Southron lines.
Alarmed at the confusion he
saw at a distance, Lord Montgomery ordered his litter round from the rear
to the front; and hearing all that had passed, joined with De Warenne, in
pleading for the abashed Edwin.
"His youth and
zeal," cried Montgomery, "are sufficient to excuse the
intemperance of the deed."
"No!" interrupted
Edwin; "I have offended, and I will expiate. Only, my honoured
Lord;" said he, approaching Wallace, while he checked the emotion
which would have flowed from his eyes, "when I am absent, sometimes
remember that it was Edwin’s love, which hurried him to this
disgrace."
"My dear Edwin;"
returned Wallace, "there are many impetuous spirits in Scotland, who
need the lesson I now enforce upon you; and they will be brought to
maintain the law of honour, when they see that their Regent spares not
its slightest violation, even when committed by his best beloved
friend.—Farewell, till we meet again!"