Kirkpatrick scoffed at the audacious menace of the young prince. "He
should come amongst us, like a man," cried he; "and we would soon show
him who it is that works mischief in Scotland! Ay, even on his back,
we would write the chastisement due to the offender."
"Be not angry with him, my friend," returned Wallace; "these threats
are words of course from the son of Edward. Did he not fear both our
rights and our arms, he would not so readily accord with our
propositions. You see every Scottish prisoner is to be on the borders
by a certain day; and to satisfy that impatient valor (which I, your
friend, would never check, but when it loses itself in a furor too
nearly resembling that of our enemies), I intend to make your prowess
once again the theme of their discourse. You will retake your castles
in Annandale!"
"Give me but the means to recover those stout gates of our country,"
cried Kirkpatrick, "and I will warrant you to keep the keys in my hand
till doomsday."
Wallace resumed: "Three thousand men are at your command. When the
prisoners pass each other on the Cheviots, the armistice will
terminate. You may then fall back upon Annandale, and that night,
light your own fires in Torthorald! Send the expelled garrison into
Northumberland, and show this haughty prince that we know how to
replenish his depopulated towns!"
"But first I will set my mark on them!" cried Kirkpatrick, with one of
those laughs which ever preluded some savage proposal.
Pages:
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562