The Scottish Chiefs

by Jane Porter

  Chapter XXXVIII.

  The Bower, or Ladies' Apartment.

  Thus did Lady Helen commune with her own strangely-affected heart;sometimes doubting the evidence of her eyes; then, convinced of theirfidelity, striving to allay the tumults in her mind. She seldomappeared from her own rooms. And such retirement was not questioned,her father being altogether engaged at the citadel, the countessabsorbed in her own speculations, and Lady Ruthven alone interruptedthe solitude of her niece by frequent visits. Little suspecting thecause of Helen's prolonged indisposition, she generally selectedWallace for the subject of conversation. She descanted with enthusiasmon the rare perfection of his character; told her all that Edwin hadrelated of his actions from the taking of Dumbarton to the presentmoment; and then bade Helen remark the miracle of such wisdom, valor,and goodness being found in one so young and handsome.

  "So, my child," added she, "depend on it; before he was Lady Marion'shusband he must have heard sighs enough from the fairest in our land tohave turned the wits of half the male world. There is something in hisvery look, did you meet him on the heath without better barg than ashepherd's plaid, sufficient to declare him the noblest of men; and,methinks, would excuse the gentlest lady in the land for leaving halland bower to share his sheep-cote. But, alas!" and then the playfulexpression of her countenance altered, "he is now for none on earth!"

  With these words she turned the subject to the confidential hours hepassed with the young adopted brother of his heart. Every fond emotionseemed then centered in his wife and child. When Lady Ruthven repeatedhis pathetic words to Edwin, she wept; she even sobbed, and paused torecover; while the deep and silent tears which flowed from the heart tothe eyes of Lady Helen bathed the side of the couch on which sheleaned. "Alas!" cried Lady Ruthven, "that a man, so formed to graceevery relation in life--so noble a creature in all respects--so fond of ahusband--so full of parental tenderness--that he should be deprived ofthe wife on whom he doted; that he should be cut off from all hope ofposterity; that when he shall die, nothing will be left of WilliamWallace--breaks my heart!"

  "Ah, my aunt," cried Helen, raising her head with animation, "will henot leave behind him the liberty of Scotland? That is an offspringworthy of his god-like soul."

  "True, my dear Helen; but had you ever been a parent, you would knowthat no achievements, however great, can heal the wound made in afather's heart by the loss of a beloved child. And though Sir WilliamWallace never saw the infant, ready to bless his arms, yet it perishedin the bosom of its mother; and that circumstance must redouble hisaffliction; horribly does it enhance the cruelty of the deed!"

  "He has in all things been a direful sacrifice," returned Helen; "andwith God alone dwells the power to wipe the tears from his heart."

  "They flow not from his eyes," answered her aunt; "but deep, deep isthe grief that, my Edwin says, is settled there."

  While Lady Ruthven was uttering these words, shouts in the street madeher pause; and soon recognizing the name of Wallace sounding from thelips of the rejoicing multitude, she turned to Helen: "Here comes ourdeliverer!" cried she, taking her by the hand; "we have not seen himsince the first day of our liberty. It will do you good, as it willme, to look on his beneficent face!"

  She obeyed the impulse of her aunt's arm, and reached the window justas he passed into the courtyard. Helen's soul seemed rushing from hereyes. "Ah! it is indeed he!" thought she; "no dream, no illusion, buthis very self."

  He looked up; but not on her side of the building; it was to the windowof Lady Mar; and as he bowed, he smiled. All the charms of that smilestruck upon the soul of Helen; and, hastily retreating, she sunkbreathless into a seat.

  "O, no! that man cannot be born for the isolated state I have justlamented. He is not to be forever cut off from communicating thathappiness to which he would give so much enchantment!" Lady Ruthvenejaculated this with fervor, her matron cheeks flushing with a suddenand more forcible admiration of the person and mien of Wallace. "Therewas something in that smile, Helen, which tells me all is not chilledwithin. And, indeed, how should it be otherwise? That generousinterest in the happiness of all, which seems to flow in a tide ofuniversal love, cannot spring from a source incapable of dispensing thesofter screams of it again."

  Helen, whose well-poised soul was not affected by the agitation of herbody (agitation she was determined to conquer), calmly answered: "Sucha hope little agrees with all you have been telling me of hisconversation with Edwin. Sir William Wallace will never love womanmore; and even to name the idea seems an offense against the sacrednessof his sorrow."

  "Blame me not, Helen," returned Lady Ruthven, "that I forgotprobability, in grasping at possibility which might give me such anephew as Sir William Wallace, and you a husband worthy of your merits!I had always, in my own mind, fixed on the unknown knight for yourfuture lord; and now that I find that he and the deliverer of Scotlandare one, I am not to be looked grave at for wishing to reward him withthe most precious heart that ever beat in a female breast."

  "No more of this, if you love me, my dear aunt!" returned Helen; "itneither can nor ought to be. I revere the memory of Lady Marion toomuch not to be agitated by the subject; so, no more!"-she was agitated.But at that instant Edwin throwing open the door, put an end to theconversation.

  He came to apprise his mother that Sir William Wallace was in the stateapartments, come purposely to pay his respects to her, not having evenbeen introduced to her when the sudden illness of her niece in thecastle had made them part so abruptly.

  "I will not interrupt his introduction now," said Helen, with a faintsmile; "a few days' retirement will strengthen me, and then I shall seeour protector as I ought."

  "I will stay with you," cried Edwin, "and I dare say Sir WilliamWallace will have no objection to be speedily joined by my mother; for,as I came along, I met my aunt Mar hastening through the gallery; and,between ourselves, my sweet coz, I do not think my noble friend quitelikes a private conference with your fair stepmother."

  Lady Ruthven had withdrawn before he made this observation.

  "Why, Edwin?-surely she would not do anything ungracious to one to whomshe owes so great a weight of obligations?" When Helen asked this, sheremembered the spleen Lady Mar once cherished against Wallace; and shefeared it might now be revived.

  "Ungracious! O, no! the reverse of that; but her gratitude is full ofabsurdity. I will not repeat the fooleries with which she sought todetain him at Bute. And that some new fancy respecting him is nowabout to menace his patience. I am convinced; for, on my way hither, Imet her hurrying along, and as she passed me she exclaimed, 'Is LordBuchan arrived?' I answered. 'Yes.' 'Ah, then he proclaimed himking?' cried she; and into the great gallery she darted."

  "You do not mean to say," demanded Helen, turning her eyes with anexpression which seemed confident of his answer, "that Sir WilliamWallace has accepted the crown of Scotland?"

  "Certainly not," replied Edwin; "but as certainly it has been offeredto him, and he has refused it."

  "I could have sworn it!" returned Helen, rising from her chair; "all isloyal, all is great and consistent there, Edwin!"

  "He is, indeed, the perfect exemplar of all nobleness," rejoined theyouth; "and I believe I shall even love you better, my dear cousin,because you seem to have so clear an apprehension of his realcharacter." He then proceeded, with all the animation of the mostzealous affection, to narrate to Helen the particulars of the latescene on the Carse of Stirling. And while he deepened still more theprofound impression the virtues of Wallace had made on her heart, hereopened its more tender sympathies by repeating, with even minuteraccuracy than he had done to his mother, details of those hours whichhe passed with him in retirement. He spoke of the beacon-hill; ofmoonlight walks in the camp, when all but the sentinels and his generaland himself were sunk in sleep.

  These were the seasons when the suppressed feelings of Wallace would byfits break from his lips, and at last pour themselves out,unrestrainedly, to the
ear of sympathy. As the young narratordescribed all the endearing qualities of his friend, the cheerfulheroism with which he quelled every tender remembrance to do his dutyin the day-"for it is only in the night," said Edwin, "that my generalremembers Ellerslie"--Helen's tears again stole silently down hercheeks. Edwin perceived them, and throwing his arms gently around her."Weep not, my sweet cousin," said he; "for, with all his sorrow, Inever saw true happiness till I beheld it in the eyes and heard it inthe voice of Sir William Wallace. He has talked to me of the joy heshould experience in giving liberty to Scotland, and establishing herpeace, till his enthusiastic soul, grasping hope, as if it werepossession, he has looked on me with a consciousness of enjoyment whichseemed to say that all bliss was summed up in a patriot's breast.

  "And at other times, when, after a conversation on his beloved Marion,a few natural regrets would pass his lips, and my tears tell how deepwas my sympathy, then he would turn to comfort me; then he would showme the world beyond this--that world which is the aim of all his deeds,the end of all his travails--and, lost in the rapturous idea of meetinghis Marion there, a foretaste of all would seem to seize his soul: andwere I then called upon to point out the most enviable felicity onearth, I should say it is that of Sir William Wallace. It is thisenthusiasm in all he believes and feels that makes him what he is. Itis this eternal spirit of hope, infused into him by Heaven itself, thatmakes him rise from sorrow, like the sun from a cloud, brighter, andwith more ardent beams. It is this that bathes his lips in the smilesof Paradise, that throws a divine luster over his eyes, and makes alldream of love and happiness that look upon him."

  Edwin paused. "Is it not so, my cousin?"

  Helen raised her thoughtful face. "He is not a being of this earth,Edwin. We must learn to imitate him, as well as to-" She hesitated,then added, "As well as to revere him, I do before the altars of thesaints. But not to worship," said she, interrupting herself; "thatwould be a crime. To look on him as a glorious example of patientsuffering--of invincible courage in the behalf of truth and mercy! Thisis the end of my reverence for him, and this sentiment, my dear Edwin,you partake."

  "It possesses me wholly," cried the energetic youth; "I have nothought, no wish, nor ever move or speak, but with the intent to belike him. He calls me his brother! and I will be so in soul, though Icannot in blood; and then, my dear Helen, you shall have two SirWilliam Wallaces to love!"

  "Sweetest, sweetest boy!" cried Helen, putting her quivering lips tohis forehead; "you will then always remember that Helen so dearly lovesScotland as to be jealous, above all earthly things, for the lordregent's safety. Be his guardian angel. Beware of treason in man andwoman, friend and kindred. It lurks, my cousin, under the mostspecious forms; and, as one, mark Lord Buchan; in short, have a care ofall whom any of the house of Cummin may introduce. Watch over yourgeneral's life in the private hour. It is not the public field I fearfor him; his valiant arm will there be his own guard! But, in theunreserved day of confidence, envy will point its dagger; and then, beas eyes to his too trusting soul--as a shield to his too confidentlyexposed breast!"

  As she spoke she strove to conceal her too eloquent face in the silkenringlets of her hair.

  "I will be all this," cried Edwin, who saw nothing in her tendersolicitude but the ingenuous affection which glowed in his own heart;"and I will be your eyes, too, my cousin; for when I am absent with SirWilliam Wallace I shall consider myself your representative, and sowill send you regular dispatches of all that happens to him."

  Thanks would have been a poor means of imparting what she felt at thisassurance; and, rising from her seat, with some of Wallace's ownresigned and enthusiastic expression in her face, she pressed Edwin'shand to her heart; then bowing her head to him, in token of gratitude,withdrew into an inner apartment.