"Ruined,
indeed, sir," replied he; "and its story is very sad. When the
Southrons, who hold Annandale, heard of the brave acts of Sir William
Wallace, they sent an army to destroy this castle and domains, which
are his, in right of the Lady Marion of Lammington. Sweet creature! I
hear they foully murdered her in Lanark."
Murray was smitten speechless at this information; for had he suspected
there was any private reason with Wallace for his silent lingering
about this desolate spot, he would rather have drawn him away than have
stopped to ask questions.
"And did you know Lady Marion, venerable old man?" inquired Wallace, in
a voice so descriptive of what was passing in his heart, that the old
man turned toward him; and struck with his noble mien, he pulled off
his bonnet, and bowing, answered, "Did I know her? She was nursed on
these knees. And my wife, who cherished her sweet infancy, is now
within yon brae. It is our only home, for the Southrons burnt us out
of the castle, where our young lady left us, when she went to be
married to the brave young Wallace. He was as handsome a youth as ever
the sun shone upon, and he loved my lady from a boy.
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