a year; a master who had the infant in his arms that was to be the
future representative of the house of Mar, he wept aloud. The earl
spoke to him affectionately, and then walked on with Edwin, whom he
called to support him up the bank. Murray led the countess out of the
boat; while the Bothwell men so thronged about Wallace, congratulating
themselves on his safety, that she saw there was no hope of his arm
being then offered to her.

Having entered the castle, the steward led them into a room, in which
he had spread a plentiful repast. Here Murray (having recounted the
adventures of his voyage) called for a history of what had befallen his
friends. The earl gladly took up the tale, and, with many a glance of
gratitude to Wallace, narrated the perilous events of their shipwreck,
and providential preservation on the Isle of Arran.

Happiness now seemed to, have shed her heavenly influence over every
bosom. All hearts owned the grateful effects of the late rescue. The
rapturous joy of Edwin burst into a thousand sallies of ardent and
luxurious imagination. The high spirits of Murray turned every
transient subject into a "mirth-moving jest". The veteran earl seemed
restored to health and to youth; and Wallace felt the sun of
consolation expanding in his bosom. He had met a heart, though a young
one, on which his soul might repose; that dear selected brother of his
affection was saved from the whelming waves; and all his superstitious
dreams of a mysterious doom vanished before this manifestation of
heavenly goodness. His friend, too, the gallant Murray, was spared.
How many subjects had he for unmurmuring gratitude! And with an
unclouded brow and a happy spirit, he yielded to the impulse of the
scene. He smiled; and, with an endearing graciousness, listened to
every fond speaker; while his own ingenuous replies bespoke the