"I
would snatch him in these arms, from their murderous flames, did all
the fiends of hell guard their infernal fire!" Not a word more did he
utter, but darting from the apartment, was soon seen before the
barbican-gate, armed from head to foot. Grimsby stood there, to whom
he called to bring him a horse, "for that the Light of Scotland was in
danger." Grimsby, who understood by that term, his beloved master was
in peril, instantly obeyed; and Bruce, as instantly mourning, struck
his rowels into the horse, and was out of sight ere Grimsby could reach
his stirrup to follow.
But that faithful soldier speeded after him like the win, and came in
view of Bruce just as he was leaping a chasm in the mountain path. The
horse struck his heel against a loose stone, and it giving way, he fell
headlong into the deep ravine. At the moment of his disappearance,
Grimsby rushed toward the spot, and saw the animal struggling in the
agonies of death at the bottom. Bruce lay insensible, amongst some
bushes which grew nearer the top. With difficulty the honest
Englishman got him dragged to the surface of the hill; and finding all
attempts to recover him ineffectual, he laid him on his own beast, and
so carried him slowly back to the castle.
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