"I am here," replied he, in a composed voice; "would you have me seek the assassin?"
"No, no," cried the earl, ashamed of his suspicion; "but here has been some foul work—and my daughter is slain."
"Oh, not so!" cried Murray, who had hurried toward the dreadful group, and knelt at her side. "She will not die—so much excellence cannot die." A stifled groan from Wallace, accompanied by a look, told Murray that he had known the death of similar excellence. With this unanswerable appeal, the young chieftain dropped his head on the other hand of Helen; and, could any one have seen his face buried as it was in her robes, they would have beheld tears of agony drawn from that every-gay heart.
The wound was closed by the aid of another surgical priest, who had followed the former into the hall, and Helen sighed convulsively. At this intimation of recovery, the priest made all, excepting those who supported her, stand back. But, as Lady Mar lingered near Wallace, she saw the paleness of his countenance turn to a deadly hue, and his eyes closing, he sunk back on the bench. Her shrieks now resounded through the hall, and, falling into hysterics, she was taken into the gallery; while the more collected Lady Ruthven remained to attend the victims before her.
At the instant Wallace fell, De Valence, losing all self-command, caught hold of De Warenne's arm, and whispering, "I thought it was sure—long live King Edward!" rushed out of the hall. These words revealed to De Warenne who was the assassin; and though struck to the soul with the turpitude of the deed, he thought the honor of England would not allow him to accuse the perpetrator, and he remained silent.
The inanimate form of Wallace was now drawn from under that of Helen; and, in the act, discovered the tapestry-seat clotted with blood, and the regent's back bathed in the same vital stream. Having found his wound, the priests laid him on the ground; and were administering their balsams, when Helen opened her eyes. Her mind was too strongly possessed with the horror which had entered it before she became insensible, to lose the consciousness of her fears; and immediately looking around with an aghast countenance, her sight met the outstretched body of Wallace. "Oh! is it so?" cried she, throwing herself into the bosom of her father. He understood what she meant. "He lives, my child! but he is wounded like yourself. Have courage; revive, for his sake and for mine!"
"Helen! Helen! dear Helen!" cried Murray, clinging to her hand; "while you live, what that loves you can die?"
While these acclamations surrounded her couch, Edwin, in speechless apprehension, supported the insensible head of Wallace; and De Warenne, inwardly execrating the perfidy of De Valence, knelt down to assist the good friars in their office.
A few minutes longer, and the staunched blood refluxing to the chieftain's heart, he too opened his eyes; and instantly turning on his arm-"What has happened to me? Where is Lady Helen?" demanded he.
At his voice, which aroused Helen, who, believing that he was indeed dead, was relapsing into her former state; she could only press her father's hand to her lips, as if he had given the life she so valued, and bursting into a shower of relieving tears, breathed out her rapturous thanks to God. Her low murmurs reached the ears of Wallace.