The iron latch now gave way; and the ponderous
oak, grating dismally on its hinges, she looked forward, and beheld the
object of all her solicitude leaning along a couch; a stone table was
before him, at which he seemed writing. He raised his head at the
sound. The peace of virtue was in his eyes, and a smile on his lips,
as if he had expected some angel visitant.
The first glance at his pale, but heavenly countenance struck to the
heart of Helen; veneration, anguish, shame, all rushed on her at once.
She was in his presence! but how might he turn from consolations he had
not sought! The intemperate passion of her step-mother now glared
before her; his contempt of the countess' unsolicited advances appeared
ready to be extended to her rash daughter-in-law; and with an
irrepressible cry, which seemed to breathe out her life, Helen would
have fled, but her failing limbs bent under her, and she fell senseless
into the dungeon. Wallace started from his reclining position. He
thought his senses must deceive him--and yet the shriek was Lady
Helen's. He had heard the same cry on the Pentland Hills; in the
chamber of Chateau Galliard! He rose agitated; he approached the
prostrate youth, and bending to the inanimate form, took off the Norman
hat; he parted the heavy locks which fell over her brow, and recognized
the features of her who alone had ever shared his meditations with his
Marion.
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