During these various operations—for the whole family seemed eager to show their hospitality—the old man discovered, not so much by the costliness of his garments as by the noble mien and gentle manners of the stranger, that he was some chieftain from the castle. "Your honor," said he, "must pardon the uncourtliness of our ways; but we give you the best we have: and the worthy Lord Loch-awe cannot do more."
Wallace gave smiling answers to all their remarks, and offers of service. He partook of their broth, praised the good wife's cakes, and sat discoursing with the family with all the gayety and frankness of one of themselves. His unreserved manners opened every heart around him, and with confidential freedom the venerable shepherd related his domestic history, dwelling particularly on the projected marriages of his children, which he said, "should now take place, since the good Sir William Wallace had brought peace to the land."
Wallace gratified the worthy father, he appearing to take an interest in all his narratives, and then allowing the happy spirits of the young people to break in upon these graver discussions, he smiled with them, or looked serious with the garrulous matron, who turned the discourse to tales of other times. He listened with complacency to every legend of witch, fairy, and ghost; and his enlightened remarks sometimes pointed out natural causes for the extraordinary appearances she described; or, at better—attested and less equivocal accounts of supernatural apparitions, he acknowledged that there are "more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in philosophy."
Morning dawned before the tranquilized, nay, happy Wallace, happy in the cheerful innocence of the scene, discovered that the night was past. As the gray light gleamed through the wooden shutters he arose. "My friends, I must leave you," said he; "there are those not far off who may be alarmed at my disappearance, for none knew when I walked abroad, and unwittingly I have been charmed all these hours to remain, enjoying the happiness of your circle, forgetful of the anxiety I have perhaps occasioned in my own."
The old man declared his intention of seeing him over the hill. Wallace declined giving him that trouble, saying that as it was daylight, and the snow had ceased, he could easily retrace his steps to the castle.
"No, no," returned the shepherd; "and besides," said he, "as I hear the good lord regent is keeping the New Year with our noble earl, who knows but I may get a glimpse of his noble countenance, and that will be a sight to tell of till I die!"
"God's blessing on his sweet face!" cried the old woman; "but I would give all the yarn in my muckle chest to catch one look of his lucky eye! I warrant you, witch nor fairy could never harm me more."
"Ah, father," cried the eldest of the girls, blushing, "if you go near enough to him! Do you know, Madgie Grant told me, if I could but get even the least bit of Sir William Wallace's hair, and give it to Donal Cameron to wear in a true lover's know on his breast, no Southron will be able to do him harm as long as he lives!"
"And do you believe it would protect your lover, my pretty Jeannie?" inquired Wallace, with a sweet smile.
"Surely," she replied; "for Madgie is a wise woman, and has the second sight."