As her ardent eyes withdrew from their heavenward gaze, they fell upon
the shrouded face of her master. A napkin concealed the wound of
decapitation. "Chiefs," cried she, in a burst of recollection, "ye
have not seen all the cruelty of these murderers!" At these words she
suddenly withdrew the linen, and lifting up the pale head, held it
wofully toward Wallace. "Here," cried she, "once more kiss these lips!
They have often kissed yours, when you were a babe; and as insensible
to his love, as he is now to your sorrow."
Wallace received the head in his arms; the long silver beard, thick
with gouts of blood, hung over his hands. He gazed on it, intently,
for some minutes. An awful silence pervaded the room; every eye was
riveted upon him.
Looking round on his friends, with a countenance whose deadly hue gave
a sepulchral fire to the gloomy denunciation of his eyes; "Was it
necessary," said he, "to turn my heart to iron, that I was brought to
see this sight?" All the tremendous purpose of his soul was read in
his face, while he laid the head back upon the bier. His lips again
moved, but none heard what he said. He rushed from the hut, and with
rapid strides, proceeded in profound silence toward the palace.
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