The rosy red of youth yet
tinged his cold cheek; his parted lips still beamed with the same--but
the breath that had so sweetly informed them, was flown. "Oh! my best
brother that ever I had" cried Wallace in a sudden transport, and
kissing his pale forehead; "my sincerest friend in my greatest need!
In thee was truth, manhood, and nobleness; in thee was all man's
fidelity with woman's tenderness. My friend, my brother, oh! would to
God I had died for thee!"
Chapter LXXX.
Huntingtower.
Lord Ruthven was yet musing, in fearful anxiety, on Wallace's solemn
adieu, and the confirmation which the recitals of Grimsby and Hay had
brought of his determined exile, when he was struck with a new
consternation by the flight of his son. A billet, which Edwin had left
with Scrymgeour, who guessed not its contents, told his father that he
was gone to seek their friend, and to unite himself forever to his
fortunes.
Bothwell not less eager to preserve Wallace to the world, with an
intent to persuade him to at least abandon his monastic project, set
off direct for France, hoping to arrive before his friend, and engage
the French monarch to assist in preventing so grievous a sacrifice.
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