"Here is a list of the murdered chiefs, and of those who are in the
dungeons, expecting the like treatment," continued Graham, holding out
a parchment; "it was given to me by my faithful servant." Wallace took
it, but seeing his grandfather's name at the top, he could look no
further; closing the scroll, "Gallant Graham," said he, "I want no
stimulus to urge me to the extirpation I meditate. If the sword of
Heaven be with us, not one perpetrator of this horrid massacre shall be
alive tomorrow to repeat the deed."
"What massacre?" Edwin ventured to inquire. Wallace put the parchment
into his hand. "A list of the Scottish chiefs murdered on the 18th of
June, 1297, in the Judgment Hall of the English Barons at Ayr," his
cheek, paled by the suspense of his mind, now reddened with the hue of
indignation; but when the venerated name of his general's grandfather
met his sight, his horror struck eye sought the face of Wallace; it was
dark as before, and he was now in earnest discourse with Graham.
Forbearing to interrupt him, Edwin continued to read over the
blood-registered names. In turning the page, his eye glanced to the
opposite side; and he saw at the head of "A list of prisoners in the
dungeons of Ayr," the name of "Lord Dundaff" and immediately after it,
that of "Lord Ruthven!" He uttered a piercing cry; and extending his
arms to Wallace, who turned round at so unusual a sound, the
terror-struck boy exclaimed, "My father is in their hands! Oh! If you
are indeed my brother, fly to Ayr, and save him!"
Wallace took up the open list which Edwin had dropped; he saw the name
of Lord Ruthven amongst the prisoners; and folding his arms round this
affectionate son, "Compose yourself," said he, "it is to Ayr I am
going; and if the God of Justice be our speed, your father and Lord
Dundaff shall not see another day in prison.
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