The pastures of Carstairs on the east of the river, which used at this
season to be whitened with sheep, and sending forth the lowings of
abundant cattle; and the vales, which had teemed with reapers rejoicing
in the harvest, were now laid waste and silent. The plain presented
one wide flat of desolation. Where once was the enameled meadow, a
dreary swamp extended its vapory surface; and the road which a happy
peasantry no longer trod, lay choked up with thistles and rank grass;
while birds and animals of chase would spring from its thickets, on the
lonely traveler, to tell him by their wild astonishment that he was
distant from even the haunts of men. The remains of villages were
visible; but the blackness of ashes marked the walls of the ruined
dwellings.
Wallace felt that he was passing through the country in which his
Marion had been rifled of her life; and as he moved along, nature all
around seemed to have partaken of her death. As he rode over the moors
which led toward the district of Crawford Lammington, those hills
amidst which the beloved of his soul first drew breath, he became
totally silent. Time rolled back; he was no longer the Regent of
Scotland, but the fond lover of Marion Braidfoot.
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