"
"To glory!" cried Murray, waving his sword; "O! not while a Scot
survives, shall that blood-red lion** again lick the dust!"
**A lion gules, in a field or, is the arms of Scotland.-(1809.)
"No," cried Kirkpatrick, his eyes flashing fire; "rather may every Scot
and every Southron fall in the struggle, and fill one grave! Let me,"
cried he, sternly grasping the hilt of his sword, and looking upward,
"let me, oh, Saviour of mankind, live but to see the Forth and the
Clyde, so often reddened with our blood, dye the eastern and the
western oceans with the vital flood of these our foes; and when none is
spared, then let me die in peace."
The eyes of Wallace glanced on the young Edwin, who stood gazing on
Kirkpatrick, and turning on the knight with a powerful look of
apprehension-"Check that prayer," cried he; "remember my brave
companion, what the Saviour of mankind was; and then think, whether he,
who offered life to all the world, will listen to so damning an
invocation. If we would be blessed in the contest, we must be
merciful."
"To whom?" exclaimed Kirkpatrick; "to the robbers who tear from us our
lands; to the ruffians who wrest from us our honors? But you are
patient; you never received a blow!"
"Yes," cried Wallace, turning paler; "a heavy one-on my heart.
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