Tears relieved the contending feelings of the countess; and the women,
recognizing the young Lord of Bothwell, retired into a distant corner,
well assured they had now no cause for fear.
The earl rested but a moment on the panting breast of his nephew; when,
gazing round, to seek the mighty leader of the band, he saw Wallace
enter, with the step of security and triumph in his eyes.
"Ever my deliverer!" cried the venerable Mar, stretching forth his
arms. The next instant he held Wallace to his breast; and remembering
all that he had lost for his sake since they parted, a soldier's heart
melted, and he burst into tears. "Wallace, my preserver; thou victim
for Scotland, and for me-or rather, thou chosen of Heaven; who, by the
sacrifice of all thou didst hold dear on earth, art made a blessing to
thy country!-receive my thanks, and my heart."
Wallace felt all in his soul which the earl meant to imply; but
recovered the calmed tone of his mind before he was released from the
embrace of his friend; and when he raised him self, and replied to the
acknowledgments of the countess, it was with a serene, though glowing
countenance.
She, when she had glanced from the eager entrance and action of her
nephew to the advancing hero, looked as Venus did when she beheld the
god of war rise from a field of blood.
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