The squalid hue of famine had left
every face, and each smiling countenance, beaming with health,
security, and gratitude, told Wallace more emphatically than a thousand
tongues, the wisdom of the means he had used to regenerate his country.
Maxwell had prepared the fortress of Lochmaben, once the residence of
Bruce, for the reception of the regent. And thither Wallace was
conducted, in prouder triumph than ever followed the chariot-wheels of
Caesar. Blessings were the clarions that preceeded him; and hosts of
people, whom he had saved when ready to perish, were voluntary actors
in his pageant.
When he arrived in sight of the two capacious lochs, which spread like
lucid wings on each side of the castle, he turned to Graham. "What
pity," said he, "that the rightful owner of his truly regal dwelling
does not act as becomes his blood! He might now be entering its gates
as king, and Scotland find rest under its lawful monarch."
"But he prefers being a parasite in the court of a tyrant," replied Sir
John; "and from such a school, Scotland would reject its king."
"But he has a son," replied Wallace; "a brave and generous son! I am
told by Lord Montgomery, who knew him in Guienne, that a nobler spirit
does not exist.
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