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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"The Scottish Chiefs"

Wallace saw where the deadly blow fell; and
instantly closing on the earl-with a vengeance in his eyes, which
reminded his now determined victim of the horrid vision he had seen in
the burning Barns of Ayr-with one grasp of his arm, the incensed chief
hurled him to the ground; and setting his foot upon his breast, would
have buried his dagger there, had not De Valence dropped his uplifted
sword, and with horror in every feature, raised his clasped hands in
speechless supplication.
Wallace suspended the blow; and De Valence exclaimed: "My life! this
once again, gallant Wallace! by your hopes of heaven, grant me mercy!"
Wallace looked on the trembling recreant with a glare, which, had he
possessed the soul of a man, would have made him grasp at death, rather
than deserve a second. "And hast thou escaped me again?" cried
Wallace. Then turning his indignant eyes from the abject earl to his
bleeding friend-"I yield him his life, Edwin, and you, perhaps, are
slain?"
"Forget not our own bright principle to avenge me," said Edwin, as
brightly smiling; "he has only wounded me. But you are safe, and I
hardly feel a smart."
Wallace replaced his dagger in his girdle.


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