hand and the light of thy countenance overthrew the enemy! Thine the
conquest, thine the glory!"

"Thus we consecrate the day to thee, Power of Heaven!" rejoined
Scrymgeour. "And let this standard be thine own; and whithersoever we
bear it, may we ever find it as the ark of our God!"

Wallace, feeling as if no eye looked on them but that of Heaven,
dropped on his knee; and rising again, took Sir Alexander by the hand;
"My brave friend," said he, "we have here planted the tree of freedom
in Scotland. Should I die in its defense, swear to bury me under its
branches; swear that no enslaved grounds shall cover my remains."

"I swear," cried Scrymgeour, laying his crossed hands upon the arm of
Wallace; "I swear with a double vow; by the blood of my brave
ancestors, whose valor gave me the name I bear; by the cross of St.
Andrew; and by your valiant self, never to sheath my sword, while I
have life in my body, until Scotland be entirely free!"

The colors fixed, Wallace and his brave colleague descended the tower;
and perceiving the earl and countess, who sat on a stone bench at the
end of the platform, approached them. The countess rose as the chiefs
drew near. Lord Mar took his friend by the hand, with a gratulation in
his eyes that was unutterable; his lady spoke, hardly conscious of what
she said; and Wallace, after a few minutes' discourse, proposed to the
earl to retire with Lady Mar into the citadel, where she would be more
suitably lodged than in their late prison. Lord Mar was obeying this
movement, when suddenly stopping, he exclaimed, "but where is that
wondrous boy-your pilot over these perilous rocks? let me give him a
soldier's thanks?"