"Defend me, chieftains, or I am slain!" cried
he. But Wallace did not let his hand follow its advantage; with the
dignity of conscious desert, he turned from the vanquished, and casting
the enraged Lorn from him, who had thrown himself in his way, he
exclaimed: "Scots, that arm will wither which dares to point its steel
on me." The pressing crowd, struck in astonishment, parted before him
as they could have done in the path of a thunderbolt, and unimpeded, he
passed to the door.
That their regent had entered the keep was soon rumored through the
city; and when he appeared from the gate he was hailed by the
acclamations of the people. He found his empire again in the hearts of
the lowly, they whom he had restored to their cottages, knelt to him in
the streets, and called for blessings on his name; while they-oh!
blasting touch of envy!-whom he had restored to castles, and elevated
from a state of vassalage to the power of princes, they raised against
him that very power to lay him in the dust.
Now it was, that when surrounded by the grateful citizens of Stirling
(whom it would have been as easy for him to have inflamed to the
massacre of Badenoch and his council, as to have lifted his bugle to
his lips), that he blew the summons for his captains.
Pages:
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806