She rushed into his arms, and with the
excess of a disturbed and uncertain joy, fainted on his neck. Her
gentle spirit had been too powerfully excited by the preceding scenes.
Unaccustomed to tumult of any king, and nursed in the bosom of fondness
till now, no blast had blown on her tender form, no harshness had ever
ruffled the blissful serenity of her mind. What then was the shock of
this evening's violence! Her husband pursued as a murderer; herself
exposed to the midnight air, and dragged by the hands of merciless
soldiers to betray the man she loved! All these scenes were new to
her; and though a kind of preternatural strength had supported her
over, when she fell once more into her husband's extended arms, she
seemed there to have found again her shelter, and the pillow whereon
her harassed soul might repose.
"My life! My best treasure! Preserver of thy Wallace! Look on him!"
exclaimed he; "bless him with a smile from those dear eyes."
His voice, his caresses, soon restored her to sensibility and
recollection. She wept on his breast, and with love's own eloquence,
thanked Heaven that he had escaped the search and the arrows of his
enemies.
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