"Spare me, for the honor of knighthood!" cried the conquered.
"For my honor you shall die!" cried Kirkpatrick. His sword was already
at the heart of the Englishman. Wallace beat it back. "Kirkpatrick,
he is my prisoner, and I give him life."
"You know not what you do," cried the old knight, struggling with
Wallace to release his sword-arm. "This is De Valence!"
"Quarter!" reiterated the panting and hard-pressed earl. "Noble
Wallace, my life! For I am wounded."
"Sooner take my own!" cried the determined Kirkpatrick, fixing his foot
on the neck of the prostrate man, and trying to wrench his hand from
the grasp of his commander.
"Shame!" cried Wallace; "you must strike through me to kill any wounded
man I hear cry for quarter! Release the earl, for your own honor."
"Our safety lies in his destruction!" cried Kirkpatrick, and, enraged
at opposition, he thrust his commander (little expecting such an
action) from off the body of the earl. De Valence seized his
advantage, and catching Kirkpatrick by the limb that pressed on him,
overthrew him; and by a sudden spring, turning quickly on Wallace,
struck his dagger into his side.
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