"
"We are used to the blood of traitors," cried Cressingham, "and mind
not its scent. But the army of Earl de Warenne is at hand; and it is
at the peril of all your necks, for the rebel, your master, to put his
threat in execution. Withdraw, or you shall see the dead bodies of
Donald Mar and his family fringing these battlements; for no terms do
we keep with man, woman, or child, who is linked with treason!"
At these words, an arrow, winged from a hand behind Cressingham, flew
directly to the unvisored face of Wallace, but it struck too high, and
ringing against his helmet fell to the ground.
"Treachery!" resounded from every Scottish lip; while indignant at so
villainous a rupture of the parley, every bow was drawn to the head;
and a flight of arrows, armed with retribution, flew toward the
battlements. All hands were now at work, to bring the towers to the
wall; and mounting on them, while the archers by their rapid showers
drove the men from the ramparts, soldiers below, with pickaxes, dug
into the wall to make a breach.
Cressingham began to fear that his boasted auxiliaries might arrive too
late; but, determining to gain time at least, he shot flights of darts,
and large stones, from a thousand engines; also discharged burning
combustibles over the ramparts, in hopes of setting fire to the enemy's
attacking machines.
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