Chapter LXVII.
Scotland.
The eighth morning from the day in which the Red Reaver's ship was
relaunched from the Norman harbor, Wallace, now the representative of
that once formidable pirate, bearing the white flag of good faith,
entered between the castled shores of the Frith of Tay, and cast anchor
under the towers of Dundee.
When Bruce leaped upon the beach, he turned to Wallace and said with
exultation, though in a low voice, "Scotland now receives her king!
This earth shall cover me, or support my throne!"
"It shall support your throne, and bless it too," replied Wallace; "you
are come in the power of justice, and that is the power of God. I know
Him in whom I bid you confide; for He has been my shield and sword, and
never yet have I turned my back upon my enemies. Trust, my dear
prince, where I have trusted; and while virtue is your incense, you
need not doubt the issue of your prayers."
Had Wallace seen the face of Bruce at that moment, but the visor
concealed it, he would have beheld an answer in his eloquent eyes which
required not words to explain. He grasped the hand of Wallace with
fervor, and briefly replied, "Your trust shall be my trust!"
The chiefs did not stay longer at Dundee than was requisite to furnish
them with horses to convey them to Perth, where Ruthven still bore
sway.
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