At this juncture, when, perhaps, the purest bliss that ever descended
on woman's heart now glowed in that of Helen, the Earl of Gloucester
entered. His were not visits of consolation, for he knew that his
friend, who had built his heroism on the rock of Christianity, did not
require the comfortings of any mortal hand. At sight of him Wallace
pointing to the kneeling Helen, beckoned him into the inner cell, where
his straw pallet lay; and there, in a low voice, declared who she was,
and requested the earl to use his authority to allow her to remain with
him to the last.
"After that," said he, "I rely on you, generous Gloucester, to convey
safely back to her country a being who seems to have nothing of earth
about her but the terrestrial body which enshrines her angelic soul!"
The sound of a voice speaking with Wallace roused Helen from her happy
trance. Alarmed that it might be the fatal emissaries of the tyrant,
come prematurely to summon him to his last hour, she started on her
feet. "Where are you, Wallace?" cried she, looking distractedly around
her; "I must be with you even in death!"
Hearing her fearful cry, he hastened into the dungeon, and relieved her
immediate terror by naming the Earl of Gloucester, who followed him.
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