Gregory fell at his feet, and begged that he be allowed to bring his
Nannie to see the husband of her once dear child.
"Not now," replied Wallace, "I could not bear the interview—she shall see me when I return."
He then spoke apart to Murray, who cheerfully acquiesced in a commission that promised him not only the glory of being a conqueror, but the private satisfaction, he hoped, of driving the Southron garrison out of his own paternal castle. To send such news to his noble father at Stirling, would indeed be a wreath of honor to his aged and yet warlike brow. It was then arranged between the young chief and his commander that watchtowers should be thrown up on every conspicuous eminence which skirted the Scottish borders; whence concerted signals of victories, or other information, might be severally interchanged. These preliminaries adjusted, the regent's bugle brought Ker and Sir John Graham to his side. The appointed number of men was left with Murray; and Wallace, joining his other chieftains, bade his friend and honest servant adieu.
He now awakened to a sense of the present scene, and speeded his legions over his and dale, till they entered on the once luxuriant banks of the Annan—this territory of some of the noblest in Scotland, till Bruce, their chief, deserted them. It lay in more terrific ruin than even the tracts he had left. There reigned the silence of the tomb; there existed the expiring agonies of men left to perish. Recent marks of devastation smoked from the blood-stained earth; and in the midst of a barren waste, a few houseless wretches rushed forward at the sight of the regent, threw themselves before his horse, and begged a morsel of food for their famishing selves and dying infants. "Look," cried an almost frantic mother, holding toward him the living skeleton of a child; "my husband was slain by the Southrons, who hold Lochmaben Castle; my subsistence was carried away, and myself turned forth, to give birth to this child on the rocks. We have fed till this hour on the wild berries; but I die, and my child expires before me!" A second group, with shrieks of despair, cried aloud, "Here are our young ones exposed to equal miseries. Give us bread, Regent of Scotland, or we perish!"
Wallace turned to his troops: "Fast for a day, my brave friends," cried he; "lay the provisions you have brought with you before these hapless people. To-morrow you shall feed largely on Southron tables."
He was instantly obeyed. As his men marched on, they threw their loaded wallets amongst the famishing groups; and, followed by their blessings, descended with augmented speed the ravaged hills of Annandale. Dawn was brightening the dark head of Brunswark, as they advanced toward the Scottish boundary. At a distance, like a wreath of white vapors, lay the English camp, along the southern bank of the Esk. At this sight, Wallace ordered his bugles to sound. They were immediately answered by those of the opposite host. The heralds of both armies advanced, and the sun rising from behind the eastern hills, shone full upon the legions of Scotland, winding down the romantic precipices of Wauchope.
Two hours arranged every preliminary to the exchange of prisoners; and when the clarion of the trumpet announced that each party was to pass over the river to the side of its respective country, Wallace stood in the midst of his chieftains to receive the last adieus of his illustrious captives. When De Warenne approached, the regent took off his helmet; the Southron had already his in his hand. "Farewell, gallant Scot," said he, "if aught could imbitter this moment of recovered freedom, it is that I leave a man I so revere, still confident in a finally hopeless cause!"
"It would not be the less just were it indeed desparate," replied Wallace; "but had not Heaven shown on which side it fought, I should not now have the honor of thus bidding the brave De Warenne farewell."
The earl passed on, and the other lords, with grateful and respectful looks, paid their obeisance. The litter of Montgomery drew near—the curtains were thrown open-Wallace stretched out his hand to him: "The prayers of sainted innocence are thine!"
"Never more shall her angel spirit behold me here, as you now behold me," returned Montgomery; "I must be a traitor to virtue, before I ever again bear arms against Sir William Wallace!"