As they were praying together, Helen rose with a shriek and flung her
arms around Wallace. He felt an assassin's steel in his back, and she
fell senseless on his breast. Her arm was bleeding; she had partly
warded off the blow aimed at him, and had saved his life. He took her up
in his arms, and bore her from the chapel to the hall.

"Who has done this?" cried Mar, in anguish.

"I know not," replied Wallace, "but I believe some villain who aimed at
my life." With a gasp he sank back unconscious on the bench.

Helen was the first to recover, and while they were staunching the blood
that flowed from Wallace's wound, Lady Mar turned to her step-daughter.

"Will you satisfy this anxious company," said she sneeringly, "how it
happened that you should be alone with the regent? May I ask our noble
friends to withdraw, and leave this delicate investigation to my own
family?"

Wallace, recovering his senses, rose hastily.

"Do not leave this place, my lords, till I explain how I came to disturb
the devotions of Lady Helen;" Straightforwardly and with dignity, he
told the story of what had happened, and the jealous Lady Mar was
silenced.

"But who was the assassin?" they asked.

"I shall name him to Sir William Wallace alone," said Helen.