The platform was cleared, and the fallen torches, some
half-extinguished, and other flaming on the ground by the sides of the
dead, showed, in their uncertain gleams, a few terrified wretches
seeking safely in flight. The same lurid rays, casting a transitory
light on the iron gratings of the great tower, informed Wallace that
the heat of conflict had drawn him to the prison of the earl.
"We are now near the end of this night's work!" cried he. "Let us
press forward to give freedom to the Earl of Mar!"
"Liberty and Lord Mar!" cried Kirkpatrick, rushing onward. He was
immediately followed by his own men, but not quickly enough for his
daring. The guard in the tower, hearing the outcry, issued from the
flanking gates, and, surrounding him, took him prisoner.
"If there be might in your arms," roared he, with the voice of a lion,
"men of Loch Dione, rescue your leader!"
They hurried forward, with yells of defiance; but the strength of the
garrison, awakened by the flying wretches from the defeat, turned out
all its power, and, with De Valence at their head, poured on
Kirkpatrick's men, and would have overpowered them had not Wallace and
his sixty heroes, with desperate determination, cut a passage to them
through the closing ranks.
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