She started at the appearance
of Wallace; but it was not his garments dropping gore, nor the
blood-stained falchion in his hand, that caused the new sensation; it
was the figure breathing youth and manhood; it was the face, where
every noble passion of the heart had stamped themselves on his perfect
features; it was his air, where majesty and sweet entrancing grace
mingled in manly union. They were all these that struck at once upon
the sight of Lady Mar and made her exclaim within herself, "This is a
wonder of man! This is the hero that is to humble Edward!-to
bless-whom?" was her thought. "Oh, no woman! Let him be a creature
enshrined and holy, for no female heart to dare to love!"
This passed through the mind of the countess in less time than it has
been repeated, and when she saw him clasped in her husband's arms, she
exclaimed to herself, "Helen, thou wert right; thy gratitude was
prophetic of a matchless object, while I, wretch that I was, even
whispered the wish to my traitorous heart, while I gave information
against my husband, that this man, the cause of all, might be secured
or slain!"
Just as the last idea struck her, Wallace rose from the embrace of his
venerable friend and met the riveted eye of the countess.
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