He listened
breathless. The sigh was repeated. He gently raised himself on his
hand, and with an expectation he dared hardly whisper to himself,
turned toward the spot whence the sound proceeded. The branches of a
rose-tree that had been planted by his Marion, shook and scattered the
leaves of its ungathered flowers upon the brambles which grew beneath.
Wallace rose in agitation. The skirts of a human figure appeared,
retreating behind the ruins. He advanced toward it, and beheld Edwin
Ruthven. The moment their eyes met, Edwin precipitated himself at his
feet, and clinging to him, exclaimed:
"Pardon me this pursuit! But we meet to part no more."
Wallace raised him, and strained him to his breast in silence. Edwin,
in hardly articulate accents, continued:
"Some kind power checked your hand when writing to your Edwin. You
could not command him not to follow you! you left the letter
unfinished, and thus I come to bless you for not condemning me to die
of a broken heart!"
"I did not write farewell to thee," cried Wallace, looking mournfully
on him, "but I meant it, for I must part from all I love in Scotland.
It is my doom.
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