Two days later Wallace stood on the scaffold. The executioner approached
to throw the rope over the neck of his victim. Helen, with a cry, rushed
to his bosom. Clasping her to him, he exclaimed in a low voice: "Helen,
we shall next meet to part no more. May God preserve my country, and--"
He stopped--he fell. Gloucester bent to his friend and spoke, but all
was silent. He had died unsullied by the rope of Edward.

"There," said Gloucester, in deepest grief, "there broke the noblest
heart that ever beat in the breast of man."

* * * * *

It was the evening after Bannockburn. The English hosts were in
panic-stricken flight; Scotland at last was free. Robert Bruce, king and
conquerer, entered the Abbey of Cambuskenneth with his betrothed,
Isabella, and stood before the bier of Wallace.

Helen, wan and fragile, was borne on a litter from the adjoining
nunnery. In her presence Bruce and Isabella were wedded; her trembling
hands were held over them in blessing; then she threw herself prostrate
on the coffin.

At the foot of Wallace's bier stood the iron box that the dead chieftain
had so faithfully cherished. "Let this mysterious coffer be opened,"
said the Abbot of Inchaffray, "to reward the deliverer of Scotland
according to its intent" Bruce unclasped the lock, and the regalia of
Scotland was discovered!

"And thus Wallace crowns thee!" said the Bishop of Dunkeld, taking the
diadem from its coffer and setting it on Brace's head.