Chapter LXVIII.
Roslyn.
The day after the departure of Helen, Bruce became impatient to take
the field; and, to indulge this laudable eagerness, Wallace set forth
with him to meet the returning steps of Ruthven and his gathered
legions.
Having passed along the borders of Invermay, the friends descended
toward the precipitous banks of the Earn, at the foot of the Grampians.
In these green labyrinths they wound their way, till Bruce, who had
never before been in such mountain wilds, expressed a fear that Wallace
had mistaken the track; for this seemed far from any human footstep.
Wallace replied, with a smile. "The path is familiar to me as the
garden of Huntingtower."
The day, which had been cloudy, suddenly turned to wind and rain, which
certainly spread an air of desolation over the scene, very dreary to an
eye accustomed to the fertile plains and azure skies of the south. The
whole of the road was rough, dangerous, and dreadful. The steep and
black rocks, towering above their heads, seemed to threaten the
precipitation of their impending masses into the path below. But
Wallace had told Bruce they were in the right track, and he gaily
breasted both the storm and the perils of the road.
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