The recollection of all that Wallace had suffered for
the sake of her father, and of the mortal extremity in which Ker had
left him, rose like a dreadful train of apparitions before her. A pale
horror overspread her countenance; and lost in these remembrances, she
did not remark the start, and rushing color of the knight, as she
pronounced the name of Wallace.
"If Wallace ever had the happiness of serving any who belonged to you,"
returned the knight, "he has at least one source of pleasure in that
remembrance. Tell me what he can further do. Only say, where is that
father whom you say he once preserved, and I will hasten to yield my
feeble aid to repeat the service!"
"Alas!" replied Helen, "I cannot but repeat my fears that the bravest
of men no longer exists. Two days before I was betrayed into the hands
of the traitor from whom you rescued me, a messenger from Cartlane
Craigs informed my cousin that the gallant Wallace was surrounded; and
if my father did not send forces to relieve him, he must inevitably
perish. No forces could my father send; he was then made a prisoner by
the English; his retainers shared the same fate, and none but my cousin
escaped, to accompany the honest Scotch back to his master.
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