Thither he hoped to go
next morning, and there, he trusted, strike the conclusive blow for
Scotland, by the destruction of a division which he understood
comprised the flower of the English army. With these expectations he
gladly saw his troops lying in that repose which would rebrace their
strength for the combat, and, as the hours of night stole on while his
possessed mind waked for all around, he was pleased to see his
ever-watchful Edwin sink down in a profound sleep.
It was Wallace's custom, once at least in the night, to go himself the
rounds of his posts, to see that all was safe. The air was serene and
he walked out on this duty. He passed from line to line, from station
to station, and all was in order. One post alone remained to be
visited, and that was a point of observation on the craigs near
Arthur's Seat. As he proceeded along a lonely defile between the rocks
which overhang the ascent of the mountain, he was startled by the
indistinct sight of a figure amongst the rolling vapors of the night,
seated on a towering cliff directly in the way he was to go. The broad
light of the moon, breaking from behind the clouds, shone full upon the
spot, and discovered a majestic form in gray robes, leaning on a harp;
while his face, mournfully gazing upward, was rendered venerable by a
long white beard that mingled with the floating mist.
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