At this speech De Valence bit his lip with real disappointment; and starting from his chair now in unaffected disorder, "I am not to be deceived, Lord Mar," cried he; "I am not to be cajoled by the pretended patriotism of your daughter; I know the sex too well to be cheated with these excuses. The ignis fatuus that leads your daughter from my arms, is not the freedom of Scotland, but the handsome rebel who conquers in its name! He is now fortune's minion, but he will fall, Lord Mar, and then what will be the fate of his mad adherents?"
"Earl de Valence," replied the veteran, "sixty winters have checked the tides of passion in my veins; but the indignation of my soul against any insult offered to my daughter's delicacy, or to the name of the lord regent of Scotland is not less powerful in my breast. You are my prisoner, and I pardon what I could so easily avenge. I will even answer you, and say that I do not know of any exclusive affection subsisting between my daughter and Sir William Wallace; but this I am assured of, that were it the case, she would be more ennobled in being the wife of so true a patriot and so virtuous a man, than were she advanced to the bosom of an emperor. And for myself, were he to-morrow hurled by a mysterious Providence from his present nobly-won elevation, I should glory in my son were he such, and would think him as great on a scaffold as on a throne."
"It is well that is your opinion," replied De Valence, stopping in his wrathful strides, and turning on Mar with vengeful irony; "cherish these heroics, for you will assuredly see him so exalted. Then where will be his triumphs over Edward's arms and Pembroke's heart? Where your daughter's patriot husband; you glorious son? Start not, old man, for by all the powers of hell I swear that some eyes which now look proudly on the Southron host, shall close in blood! I announce a fact!"
"If you do," replied Mar, shuddering at the demoniac fire that lightened from the countenance of De Valence, "it must be by the agency of devils; and their minister, vindictive earl, will meet the vengeance of the Eternal arm."
"These dreams," cried De Valence, "cannot terrify me. You are neither a seer, nor I a fool, to be taken by such prophecies. But were you wise enough to embrace the advantage I offer, you might be a prophet of good, greater than he of Ercildown, to your nation; for all that you could promise, I would take care should be fulfilled. But you cast from you your peace and safety; my vengeance shall therefore take its course. I rely not on oracles of heaven or hell; but I have pronounced the doom of my enemies; and though you now see me a prisoner, tremble, haughty Scot, at the resentment which lies in this head and heart. This arm perhaps needs not the armies of Edward to pierce you in your boast!"
He left the room as he spoke; and Lord Mar, shaking his venerable head as he disappeared, said to himself: "Impotent rage of passion and of youth, I pity and forgive you."
It was not, therefore, so extraordinary that De Valence, when he saw Wallace descending the Ochil hills with the flying banners of new victories, should break into curses of his fortune, and swear inwardly the most determined revenge.
Fuel was added to this fire at sunset, when the almost measureless defiles of prisoners, marshaled before the ramparts of Stirling, and taking the usual oath to Wallace, met his view.
"To-morrow we quit these dishonoring wall," cried he to himself: "but ere I leave them, if there be power in gold, or strength in my arm, he shall die!"