Almost in despair that
the waves had cheated his revenge, he was hurrying on in another
direction, when he perceived a body moving through a hollow on his
right. He turned, and saw the object of his search crawling amongst
the mud and sedges.
"Ha!" cried Kirkpatrick, with a triumphant yell, "art thou yet mine?
Damned, damned villain!" cried he, springing upon his breast: "Behold
the man you dishonored!-behold the hot cheek your dastard hand defiled!
Thy blood shall obliterate the stain; and then Kirkpatrick may again
front the proudest in Scotland!"
"For mercy!" cried the horror-struck Cressingham, struggling with
preternatural strength to extricate himself.
"Hell would be my portion did I grant any to thee," cried Kirkpatrick;
and with one stroke of the ax he severed the head from its body. "I am
a man again!" shouted he, as he held its bleeding veins in his hand,
and placed it on the point of his sword. "Thou ruthless priest of
Moloch and of Mammon, thou shalt have thine own blood to drink, while I
show my general how proudly I am avenged!" As he spoke, he dashed
amongst the victorious ranks, and reached Wallace at the very moment he
was freeing himself from his fallen horse, which a random arrow had
shot under him.
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