"There is Wallace!" exclaimed Kirkpatrick.

"Not one of those very young men?" interrogated the earl.

"Even so," was the answer of the knight; "but his is the youth of the
brave son of Ammon; gray beards are glad to bow before his golden
locks, for beneath them is wisdom."

As he spoke they entered the barbican; and Wallace (whom the
penetrating eye of Lennox had already singled out for the chief)
advanced to meet his guest.

"Earl," said he, "you are welcome to Dumbarton Castle."

"Bravest of my countrymen!" returned Lennox, clasping him in his arms,
"receive a soldier's embrace, receive the gratitude of a loyal heart!
accept my service, my arms, my men: my all I devote to Scotland and the
great cause."

Wallace for a moment did not answer; but warmly straining the earl to
his breast, said, as he released him, "Such support will give sinews to
our power. A few months, and with the blessing of that arm which has
already mowed down the ranks which opposed us, we shall see Scotland at
liberty."

"And may Heaven, brave Wallace!" exclaimed Lennox, "grant us thine arm
to wield its scythe! But how have you accomplished this? How have
your few overthrown this English host?"