"Save, save yourself, my master!" cried a man rushing in from the garden. "You are pursued-"
While he spoke he felt insensible at Wallace's feet. It was Dugald whom he had rescued from the blow of Heselrigge, and who, from the state of his wound had been thus long in reaching Ellerslie.
Wallace had hardly time to give him to the care of Halbert, when the voice of war assailed his ears. The tumult of men demanding admittance and the terrible sound of spears rattling against the shields of their owners, told the astonished group within that the house was beset by armed foes.
"Blood for blood!" cried a horrid voice, which penetrated the almost palsied senses of Lady Marion. "Vengence on Wallace, for the murder of Heselrigge!"
"Fly, fly!" cried she, looking wildly at her husband.
"Whither?" answered he, supporting her in his arms. "Would this be a moment to leave you, and our wounded guest? I must meet them."
"Not now!" cried Lord Mar. "Hear you not how numerous they are? Mark that shout! they thirst for blood. If you have love, pity, for your wife, delay not a moment. Again-"
The uproar redoubled, and the room was instantly filled with shrieking women in their night-clothes, the attendants of Lady Wallace. She almost expiring, on her husband's breast.
"O my lord!" cried the terrified creatures, wringing their hands, "what will become of us! The Southrons are at the gates, and we shall be lost forever!"
"Fear not," replied Wallace; "retire to your chambers. I am the person they seek: none else will meet with injury."