It was noon before the chief awoke from the death-like sleep into which kind nature had plunged his long-harassed senses. He opened his eyes languidly, and when the sight of his rocky apartment forced on him the recollection of all his miseries, he uttered a deep groan. That sad sound, so different from the jocund voice with which Wallace used to issue from his rest, struck on the heart of Halbert; he drew near his master to receive his last commands for Bothwell. "On my knees," added he, "will I implore the earl to send you succor."
"He needs not prayers for that," returned Wallace; "but depart, dear, worthy Halbert; it will comfort me to know you are in safety; and whithersoever you go, you carry my thanks and blessings with you."
Old age opens the fountains of tears; Halbert's flowed profusely, and bathed his master's hand. Could Wallace have wept, it would have been then; but that gentle emollient of grief was denied to him, and, with a voice of assumed cheerfulness, he renewed his efforts to encourage his desponding servant. Half persuaded that a Superior Being did indeed call his beloved master to some extraordinary exertions for Scotland, Halbert bade him an anxious farewell, and then withdrew to commit him to the fidelity of the companions of his destiny.
A few of them led the old man on his way, as far as the western declivity of the hills, and then, bidding him good speed, he took the remainder of his journey alone.
After traversing many a weary mile, between Cartlane Craigs and
Bothwell Castle, he reached the valley in which that fortress stands,
and calling to the warder at his gates, that he came from Sir William
Wallace, was immediately admitted, and conducted into the castle.
Halbert was led by a servant into a spacious chamber, where the earl lay on a couch. A lady, richly habited, and in the bloom of life, sat at his head. Another, much younger, and of resplendent beauty, knelt at his feet, with a salver of medicinal cordials in her hand. The Lady Marion's loveliness had been that of a soft moonlight evening; but the face which now turned upon Halbert as he entered, was "full of light, and splendor, and joy;" and the old man's eyes, even though dimmed in tears, were dazzled. A young man stood near her. On the entrance of Halbert, whom the earl instantly recognized, he raised himself on his arm, and welcomed him. The young lady rose, and the young man stepped eagerly forward.
The earl inquired anxiously for Sir William Wallace, and asked if he might expect him soon at Bothwell.
"He cannot yet come, my lord," replied Halbert; "hard is the task he has laid upon his valiant head; but he is avenged! He has slain the Governor of Lanark." A faint exclamation broke from the lips of the young lady.
"How?" demanded the earl.
Halbert now gave a particular account of the anguish of Wallace, when he was told of the sanguinary events which had taken place at Ellerslie. As the honest harper described, in his own ardent language, the devoted zeal with which the shepherds on the heights took up arms to avenge the wrong done to their chief, the countenance of the young lady, and of the youth, glowed through tears; they looked on each other; and Halbert proceeded: