"
"Indeed he richly deserves it," returned Stephen; "for the very soul of
Wallace seemed transfused into his breast, as he cheered us through our
long march from the valley to Glenfinlass; he played with the children,
heartened up the women; and when the men were weary, and lagged by the
way, he sat down on the nearest stones, and sung to us legends of our
ancestors, till every nerve was braced with warlike emulation, and
starting up, we proceeded onward with resolution and even gayety.
"When we arrived at Craignacoheilg, as the women were in great want, I
suddenly recollected that I had an old friend in the neighborhood.
When a boy, I had been the playfellow of Sir John Scott of Loch Doine;
and though I understood him to be now an invalid, I went to him. When
I told my tale, his brother-in-law, Sir Roger Kirkpatrick, took fire at
my relation, and declared his determination to accompany me to
Craignacoheilg; and when he joined our band on the summit of this rock,
he took the children in his arms, and while he held their hands in his,
vehemently addressed their mothers, 'Let not these hands be baptized,**
till they had been washed in the blood of our foe.
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