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In Freedom's Cause : A Story of Wallace and Bruce

by G. A. Henty · English · Gutenberg #4792 · 671,744 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: In Freedom's Cause : A Story of Wallace and Bruce

Author: G. A. Henty


        
Release date: December 1, 2003 [eBook #4792]
                Most recently updated: December 28, 2020

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4792

Credits: Produced by Martin Robb and Ted Robb.  HTML version by Al Haines.


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE : A STORY OF WALLACE AND BRUCE ***




Produced by Martin Robb and Ted Robb.  HTML version by Al Haines.








In Freedom's Cause

G. A. Henty




CONTENTS

       I  Glen Cairn
      II  Leaving Home
     III  Sir William Wallace
      IV  The Capture of Lanark
       V  A Treacherous Plot
      VI  The Barns of Ayr
     VII  The Cave in the Pentlands
    VIII  The Council at Stirling
      IX  The Battle of Stirling Bridge
       X  The Battle of Falkirk
      XI  Robert The Bruce
     XII  The Battle of Methven
    XIII  The Castle of Dunstaffnage
     XIV  Colonsay
      XV  A Mission to Ireland
     XVI  An Irish Rising
    XVII  The King's Blood Hound
   XVIII  The Hound Restored
     XIX  The Convent of St. Kenneth
      XX  The Heiress of the Kerrs
     XXI  The Siege of Aberfilly
    XXII  A Prisoner
   XXIII  The Escape from Berwick
    XXIV  The Progress of the War
     XXV  The Capture of a Stronghold
    XXVI  Edinburgh
   XXVII  Bannockburn




PREFACE.


MY DEAR LADS,

There are few figures in history who have individually exercised
so great an influence upon events as William Wallace and Robert
Bruce. It was to the extraordinary personal courage, indomitable
perseverance, and immense energy of these two men that Scotland
owed her freedom from English domination. So surprising were the
traditions of these feats performed by these heroes that it was at
one time the fashion to treat them as belonging as purely to legend
as the feats of St. George or King Arthur.  Careful investigation,
however, has shown that so far from this being the case, almost
every deed reported to have been performed by them is verified by
contemporary historians. Sir William Wallace had the especial bad
fortune of having come down to us principally by the writings of
his bitter enemies, and even modern historians, who should have
taken a fairer view of his life, repeated the cry of the old English
writers that he was a bloodthirsty robber. Mr. W. Burns, however,
in his masterly and exhaustive work, The Scottish War of Independence,
has torn these calumnies to shreds, and has displayed Wallace as
he was, a high minded and noble patriot. While consulting other
writers, especially those who wrote at the time of or but shortly
after the events they record, I have for the most part followed
Burns in all the historical portions of the narrative. Throughout
the story, therefore, wherein it at all relates to Wallace, Bruce,
and the other historical characters, the circumstances and events
can be relied upon as strictly accurate, save only in the earlier
events of the career of Wallace, of which the details that have
come down to us are somewhat conflicting, although the main features
are now settled past question.

Yours sincerely,
  G.A. HENTY.




Chapter I

Glen Cairn


The village of Glen Cairn was situated in a valley in the broken
country lying to the west of the Pentland Hills, some fifteen miles
north of the town of Lanark, and the country around it was wild
and picturesque.  The villagers for the most part knew little of
the world beyond their own valley, although a few had occasionally
paid visits to Glasgow, which lay as far to the west as Lanark was
distant to the south. On a spur jutting out from the side of the
hill stood Glen Cairn Castle, whose master the villagers had for
generations regarded as their lord.

The glory of the little fortalice had now departed. Sir William
Forbes had been killed on his own hearthstone, and the castle had
been sacked in a raid by the Kerrs, whose hold lay to the southwest,
and who had long been at feud with the Forbeses. The royal power
was feeble, and the Kerrs had many friends, and were accordingly
granted the lands they had seized; only it was specified that Dame
Forbes, the widow of Sir William, should be allowed to reside in
the fortalice free from all let or hindrance, so long as she meddled
not, nor sought to stir up enmity among the late vassals of her
lord against their new masters.

The castle, although a small one, was strongly situated.  The spur
of the hill ran some 200 yards into the valley, rising sharply
some 30 or 40 feet above it. The little river which meandered down
the valley swept completely round the foot of the spur, forming a
natural moat to it, and had in some time past been dammed back, so
that, whereas in other parts it ran brightly over a pebbly bottom,
here it was deep and still. The fortalice itself stood at the
extremity of the spur, and a strong wall with a fortified gateway
extended across the other end of the neck, touching the water on
both sides.  From the gateway extended two walls inclosing a road
straight to the gateway of the hold itself, and between these walls
and the water every level foot of ground was cultivated; this garden
was now the sole remains of the lands of the Forbeses.

It was a narrow patrimony for Archie, the only son of Dame Forbes,
and his lady mother had hard work to keep up a respectable state,
and to make ends meet. Sandy Grahame, who had fought under her
husband's banner and was now her sole retainer, made the most of the
garden patches. Here he grew vegetables on the best bits of ground
and oats on the remainder; these, crushed between flat stones,
furnished a coarse bread.  From the stream an abundance of fish could
always be obtained, and the traps and nets therefore furnished a
meal when all else failed. In the stream, too, swam a score and more
of ducks, while as many chickens walked about the castle yard, or
scratched for insects among the vegetables. A dozen goats browsed
on the hillside, for this was common ground to the village, and
Dame Forbes had not therefore to ask for leave from her enemies,
the Kerrs. The goats furnished milk and cheese, which was deftly
made by Elspie, Sandy's wife, who did all the work indoors, as her
husband did without. Meat they seldom touched.  Occasionally the
resources of the hold were eked out by the present of a little
hill sheep, or a joint of prime meat, from one or other of her old
vassals, for these, in spite of the mastership of the Kerrs, still
at heart regarded Dame Mary Forbes as their lawful mistress, and
her son Archie as their future chief.  Dame Mary Forbes was careful
in no way to encourage this feeling, for she feared above all things
to draw the attention of the Kerrs to her son. She was sure that
did Sir John Kerr entertain but a suspicion that trouble might ever
come from the rivalry of this boy, he would not hesitate a moment
in encompassing his death; for Sir John was a rough and violent
man who was known to hesitate at nothing which might lead to his
aggrandizement. Therefore she seldom moved beyond the outer wall
of the hold, except to go down to visit the sick in the village.
She herself had been a Seaton, and had been educated at the nunnery
of Dunfermline, and she now taught Archie to read and write,
accomplishments by no means common even among the better class in
those days.  Archie loved not books; but as it pleased his mother,
and time often hung heavy on his hands, he did not mind devoting
two or three hours a day to the tasks she set him. At other times
he fished in the stream, wandered over the hills, and brought in
the herbs from which Dame Forbes distilled the potions which she
distributed to the villagers when sick.

Often he joined the lads of the village in their games.  They
all regarded him as their leader; but his mother had pressed upon
him over and over again that on no account was he to assume any
superiority over the others, but to treat them strictly as equals.
Doubtless the Kerrs would from time to time have news of what was
doing in Glen Cairn; and while they would be content to see him
joining in the sports of the village lads, with seemingly no wish
beyond that station, they would at once resent it did they see
any sign on his part of his regarding himself as a chief among the
others.

No inconsiderable portion of Archie's time was occupied in acquiring
the use of arms from Sandy Grahame. His mother, quiet and seemingly
resigned as she was, yet burned with the ambition that he should
some day avenge his father's death, and win back his father's lands.
She said little to him of her hopes; but she roused his spirit by
telling him stories of the brave deeds of the Forbeses and Seatons,
and she encouraged him from his childhood to practise in arms with
Sandy Grahame.

In this respect, indeed, Archie needed no stimulant.  From Sandy
even more than from his mother he had heard of his brave father's
deeds in arms; and although, from the way in which she repressed any
such utterances, he said but little to his mother, he was resolved
as much as she could wish him to be, that he would some day win
back his patrimony, and avenge his father upon his slayers.

Consequently, upon every opportunity when Sandy Grahame could spare
time from his multifarious work, Archie practised with him, with
sword and pike. At first he had but a wooden sword. Then, as his
limbs grew stronger, he practised with a blunted sword; and now
at the age of fifteen Sandy Grahame had as much as he could do to
hold his own with his pupil.

At the time the story opens, in the springtime of the year 1293,
he was playing at ball with some of the village lads on the green,
when a party of horsemen was seen approaching.

At their head rode two men perhaps forty years old, while a lad of
some eighteen years of age rode beside them.  In one of the elder
men Archie recognized Sir John Kerr.  The lad beside him was his
son Allan. The other leader was Sir John Hazelrig, governor of
Lanark; behind them rode a troop of armed men, twenty in number.
Some of the lads would have ceased from their play; but Archie
exclaimed:

"Heed them not; make as if you did not notice them.  You need not
be in such a hurry to vail your bonnets to the Kerr."

"Look at the young dogs," Sir John Kerr said to his companion.
"They know that their chief is passing, and yet they pretend that
they see us not."

"It would do them good," his son exclaimed, "did you give your
troopers orders to tie them all up and give them a taste of their
stirrup leathers."

"It would not be worth while, Allan," his father said.  "They will
all make stout men-at-arms some day, and will have to fight under
my banner. I care as little as any man what my vassals think of
me, seeing that whatsoever they think they have to do mine orders.
But it needs not to set them against one needlessly; so let the
varlets go on with their play undisturbed."

That evening Archie said to his mother, "How is it, mother, that
the English knight whom I today saw ride past with the Kerr is
governor of our Scottish town of Lanark?"

"You may well wonder, Archie, for there are many in Scotland
of older years than you who marvel that Scotsmen, who have always
been free, should tolerate so strange a thing.  It is a long story,
and a tangled one; but tomorrow morning I will draw out for you
a genealogy of the various claimants to the Scottish throne, and
you will see how the thing has come about, and under what pretence
Edward of England has planted his garrisons in this free Scotland
of ours."

The next morning Archie did not forget to remind his mother of her
promise.

"You must know," she began, "that our good King Alexander had three
children--David, who died when a boy; Alexander, who married a
daughter of the Count of Flanders, and died childless; and a daughter,
Margaret, who married Eric, the young King of Norway. Three years
ago the Queen of Norway died, leaving an only daughter, also named
Margaret, who was called among us the 'Maid of Norway,' and who,
at her mother's death, became heir presumptive to the throne, and
as such was recognized by an assembly of the estates at Scone. But
we all hoped that the king would have male heirs, for early last
year, while still in the prime of life, he married Joleta, daughter
of the Count of Drew. Unhappily, on the 19th of March, he attended
a council in the castle of Edinburgh, and on his way back to his
wife at Kinghorn, on a stormy night, he fell over a precipice and
was killed.

"The hopes of the country now rested on the 'Maid of Norway,' who
alone stood between the throne and a number of claimants, most of
whom would be prepared to support their claims by arms, and thus
bring unnumbered woes upon Scotland. Most unhappily for the country,
the maid died on her voyage to Scotland, and the succession therefore
became open.

"You will see on this chart, which I have drawn out, the lines by
which the principal competitors--for there were nigh upon a score
of them--claimed the throne.

"Before the death of the maid, King Edward had proposed a marriage
between her and his young son, and his ambassadors met the Scottish
commissioners at Brigham, near Kelso, and on the 18th of July, 1290,
the treaty was concluded. It contained, besides the provisions of
the marriage, clauses for the personal freedom of Margaret should
she survive her husband; for the reversion of the crown failing
her issue; for protection of the rights, laws, and liberties of
Scotland; the freedom of the church; the privileges of crown vassals;
the independence of the courts; the preservation of all charters
and natural muniments; and the holding of parliaments only within
Scotland; and specially provided that no vassal should be compelled
to go forth of Scotland for the purpose of performing homage or
fealty; and that no native of Scotland should for any cause whatever
be compelled to answer, for any breach of covenant or from crime
committed, out of the kingdom.

"Thus you see, my boy, that King Edward at this time fully recognized
the perfect independence of Scotland, and raised no claim to any
suzerainty over it. Indeed, by Article I it was stipulated that
the rights, laws, liberties, and customs of Scotland should remain
for ever entire and inviolable throughout the whole realm and its
marches; and by Article V that the Kingdom of Scotland shall remain
separate and divided from England, free in itself, and without
subjection, according to its right boundaries and marches, as
heretofore.

"King Edward, however, artfully inserted a salvo, 'saving the rights
of the King of England and of all others which before the date of
this treaty belong to him or any of them in the marches or elsewhere.'
The Scottish lords raised no objection to the insertion of this
salvo, seeing that it was of general purport, and that Edward
possessed no rights in Scotland, nor had any ever been asserted
by his predecessors--Scotland being a kingdom in itself equal to
its neighbour--and that neither William the Norman nor any of his
successors attempted to set forward any claims to authority beyond
the Border.

"No sooner was the treaty signed than Edward, without warrant
or excuse, appointed Anthony Beck, the warlike Bishop of Durham,
Lieutenant of Scotland, in the name of the yet unmarried pair; and
finding that this was not resented, he demanded that all the places
of strength in the kingdom should be delivered to him. This demand
was not, however, complied with, and the matter was still pending
when the Maid of Norway died. The three principal competitors--Bruce,
Baliol, and Comyn--and their friends, at once began to arm; but
William Fraser, Bishop of St. Andrews, a friend of Baliol, wrote to
King Edward suggesting that he should act as arbitrator, and more
than hinting that if he chose Baliol he would find him submissive
in all things to his wishes.  Edward jumped at the proposal, and
thereupon issued summonses to the barons of the northern counties
to meet him at Norham on the 3d of June; and a mandate was issued
to the sheriffs of Northumberland, Cumberland, Westmoreland, York,
and Lancaster, to assemble the feudal array at the same rendezvous.

"Now, you know, my son, that, owing to the marriages between royal
families of England and Scotland, there has been a close connection
between the countries. Many Scotch barons have married English
heiresses, and hold lands in both countries, while Scottish maidens
have married English knights. Thus it happens that a great number
of the Scotch nobility are as much Englishmen as Scotchmen, and are
vassals to England for lands held there. Four of the competitors,
John Baliol, Robert Bruce, John Comyn, and William Ross, are all
barons of England as well as of Scotland, and their lands lying
in the north they were, of course, included in the invitation. In
May, Edward issued an invitation to the Bishops of St. Andrews,
Glasgow, and other Scotch nobles to come to Norham, remain there,
and return, specially saying that their presence there was not to
be regarded as a custom through which the laws of Scotland might
in any future time be prejudiced. Hither then came the whole power
of the north of England, and many of the Scotch nobles.

"When the court opened, Roger Brabazon, the king's justiciary,
delivered an address, in which he stated that Edward, as lord
paramount of Scotland, had come there to administer justice between
the competitors for the crown, and concluded with the request that
all present should acknowledge his claim as lord paramount.  The
Scottish nobles present, with the exception of those who were
privy to Edward's designs, were filled with astonishment and dismay
at this pretension, and declared their ignorance of any claim of
superiority of the King of England over Scotland. The king, in a
passion, exclaimed:

"'By holy Edward, whose crown I wear, I will vindicate my just
rights, or perish in the attempt.'

"However, he saw that nothing could be done on the instant, and
adjourned the meeting for three weeks, at the end of which time the
prelates, nobles, and community of Scotland were invited to bring
forward whatever they could in opposition to his claim to supremacy.

"At the time fixed the Scotch nobles again met, but this time on
the Scottish side of the Border, for Edward had gathered together
the whole of the force of the northern counties.

"Besides the four claimants, whose names I have told you, were Sir
John Hastings, Patrick Dunbar, Earl of March, William de Vesci,
Robert de Pinkeny, Nicholas de Soulis, Patrick Galythly, Roger de
Mandeville, Florence, Count of Holland, and Eric, King of Norway.
With the exception of Eric, the Count of Holland, Dunbar, and
Galythly, all of these were of Norman extraction, and held possessions
in England.  When the meeting was opened the prelates and nobles
present advanced nothing to disprove Edward's claim to supremacy.
The representatives of the commons, however, did show reason against
the claim, for which, indeed, my son, as every man in Scotland
knows, there was not a shadow of foundation.

"The king's chancellor declared that there was nothing in these
objections to Edward's claim, and therefore he resolved, as lord
paramount, to determine the question of succession. The various
competitors were asked whether they acknowledged Edward as lord
paramount, and were willing to receive his judgment as such; and
the whole of these wretched traitors proceeded to barter their
country for their hopes of a crown, acknowledged Edward as lord
paramount, and left the judgment in his hands.

"Bruce and Baliol received handsome presents for thus tamely
yielding the rights of Scotland. All present at once agreed that
the castles and strongholds of Scotland should be surrendered into
the hands of English commanders and garrisons. This was immediately
done; and thus it is, Archie, that you see an English officer
lording it over the Scotch town of Lanark.

"Then every Scotchman was called upon to do homage to the English
king as his lord paramount, and all who refused to do so were
seized and arrested. Finally, on the 17th of November last, 1292--the
date will long be remembered in Scotland--Edward's judgment
was given at Berwick, and by it John Baliol was declared King of
Scotland.

"Thus for eighteen months Scotland was kept in doubt; and this was
done, no doubt, to enable the English to rivet their yoke upon our
shoulders, and to intimidate and coerce all who might oppose it."

"There were some that did oppose it, mother, were there not?--some
true Scotchmen who refused to own the supremacy of the King of
England?"

"Very few, Archie. One Sir Malcolm Wallace, a knight of but small
estate, refused to do so, and was, together with his eldest son,
slain in an encounter with an English detachment under a leader
named Fenwick at Loudon Hill."

"And was he the father of that William Wallace of whom the talk was
lately that he had slain young Selbye, son of the English governor
of Dundee?"

"The same, Archie."

"Men say, mother, that although but eighteen years of age he is of
great stature and strength, of very handsome presence, and courteous
and gentle; and that he was going quietly through the streets when
insulted by young Selbye, and that he and his companions being set
upon by the English soldiers, slew several and made their escape."

"So they say, Archie. He appears from all description of him
to be a remarkable young man, and I trust that he will escape the
vengeance of the English, and that some day he may again strike
some blows for our poor Scotland, which, though nominally under
the rule of Baliol, is now but a province of England."

"But surely, mother, Scotchmen will never remain in such a state
of shameful servitude!"

"I trust not, my son; but I fear that it will be long before we
shake off the English yoke. Our nobles are for the most part of
Norman blood; very many are barons of England; and so great are the
jealousies among them that no general effort against England will
be possible. No, if Scotland is ever to be freed, it will be by
a mighty rising of the common people, and even then the struggle
between the commons of Scotland and the whole force of England aided
by the feudal power of all the great Scotch nobles, would be well
nigh hopeless."

This conversation sank deeply into Archie's mind; day and night
he thought of nothing but the lost freedom of Scotland, and vowed
that even the hope of regaining his father's lands should be
secondary to that of freeing his country. All sorts of wild dreams
did the boy turn over in his mind; he was no longer gay and light
hearted, but walked about moody and thoughtful. He redoubled his
assiduity in the practice of arms; and sometimes when fighting with
Sandy, he would think that he had an English man-at-arms before him,
and would strike so hotly and fiercely that Sandy had the greatest
difficulty in parrying his blows, and was forced to shout lustily
to recall him from the clouds. He no longer played at ball with the
village lads; but, taking the elder of them aside, he swore them
to secrecy, and then formed them into a band, which he called the
Scottish Avengers. With them he would retire into valleys far away
from the village, where none would mark what they were doing, and
there they practised with club and stake instead of broadsword
and pike, defended narrow passes against an imaginary enemy, and,
divided into two parties, did battle with each other.

The lads entered into the new diversion with spirit.  Among the
lower class throughout Scotland the feeling of indignation at the
manner in which their nobles had sold their country to England was
deep and passionate. They knew the woes which English domination
had brought upon Wales and Ireland; and though as yet without a
leader, and at present hopeless of a successful rising, every true
Scotchman was looking forward to the time when an attempt might be
made to throw off the English yoke.

Therefore the lads of Glen Cairn entered heart and soul into
the projects of their "young chief," for so they regarded Archie,
and strove their best to acquire some of the knowledge of the use
of sword and pike which he possessed. The younger lads were not
permitted to know what was going on--none younger than Archie
himself being admitted into the band, while some of the elders were
youths approaching man's estate. Even to his mother Archie did not
breathe a word of what he was doing, for he feared that she might
forbid his proceedings. The good lady was often surprised at the
cuts and bruises with which he returned home; but he always turned
off her questions by muttering something about rough play or a
heavy fall, and so for some months the existence of the Scottish
Avengers remained unsuspected.



Chapter II

Leaving Home


One day when "the Avengers" were engaged in mimic battle in a glen
some two miles from the village they were startled with a loud
shout of "How now, what is this uproar?" Bows were lowered and
hedge stakes dropped; on the hillside stood Red Roy, the henchman
of Sir John Kerr, with another of the retainers. They had been
crossing the hills, and had been attracted by the sound of shouting.
All the lads were aware of the necessity for Archie's avoiding the
notice of the Kerrs, and Andrew Macpherson, one of the eldest of
the lads, at once stepped forward:  "We are playing," he said, "at
fighting Picts against Scots."

This was the case, for the English were so hated that Archie had
found that none would even in sport take that name, and the sides
were accordingly dubbed Scots and Picts, the latter title not being
so repugnant, and the companies changing sides each day.

"It looks as if you were fighting in earnest," Roy said grimly,
"for the blood is streaming down your face."

"Oh, we don't mind a hard knock now and again," Andrew said
carelessly. "I suppose, one of these days, we shall have to go out
under Sir John's banner, and the more hard knocks we have now, the
less we shall care for them then."

"That is so," Roy said; "and some of you will soon be able to handle
arms in earnest. Who are your leaders?" he asked sharply, as his
eye fixed on Archie, who had seated himself carelessly upon a rock
at some little distance.

"William Orr generally heads one side, and I the other."

"And what does that young Forbes do?" Red Roy asked.

"Well, he generally looks on," Andrew replied in a confidential
tone; "he is not much good with the bow, and his lady mother does
not like it if he goes home with a crack across the face, and I
don't think he likes it himself; he is but a poor creature when it
comes to a tussle."

"And it is well for him that he is," Red Roy muttered to himself;
"for if he had been likely to turn out a lad of spirit, Sir John
would have said the word to me before now; but, seeing what he is,
he may as well be left alone for the present.  He will never cause
trouble." So saying, Red Roy strolled away with his companion, and
left the lads to continue their mimic fight.

News travelled slowly to Glen Cairn; indeed, it was only when
a travelling chapman or pedlar passed through, or when one of the
villagers went over to Lanark or Glasgow, carrying the fowls and
other produce of the community to market, that the news came from
without.

Baliol was not long before he discovered that his monarchy was but
a nominal one. The first quarrel which arose between him and his
imperious master was concerning the action of the courts. King Edward
directed that there should be an appeal to the courts at Westminster
from all judgments in the Scottish courts. Baliol protested that it
was specifically agreed by the Treaty of Brigham that no Scotchman
was liable to be called upon to plead outside the kingdom; but
Edward openly declared, "Notwithstanding any concessions made before
Baliol became king, he considered himself at liberty to judge in
any case brought before him from Scotland, and would, if necessary,
summon the King of Scots himself to appear in his presence." He
then compelled Baliol formally to renounce and cancel not only the
Treaty of Brigham, but every stipulation of the kind "known to
exist, or which might be thereafter discovered." Another appeal
followed, and Baliol was cited to appear personally, but refused;
he was thereupon declared contumacious by the English parliament,
and a resolution was passed that three of the principal towns of
Scotland should be "seized," until he gave satisfaction. All this
was a manifest usurpation, even allowing Edward's claims to supremacy
to be well founded.

At this moment Edward became involved in a quarrel with his own
lord superior Phillip, king of France, by whom he was in turned
summoned to appear under the pain of contumacy. Edward met this
demand by a renunciation of allegiance to Phillip and a declaration
of war, and called upon Baliol for aid as his vassal; but Baliol
was also a vassal of the French king, and had estates in France
liable to seizure. He therefore hesitated. Edward further ordered
him to lay an embargo upon all vessels in the ports of Scotland,
and required the attendance of many of the Scottish barons in his
expedition to France. Finding his orders disobeyed, on the 16th
of October Edward issued a writ to the sheriff of Northampton,
"to seize all lands, goods, and chattels of John Baliol and other
Scots."

The Scotch held a parliament at Scone. All Englishmen holding office
were summarily dismissed. A committee of the estates was appointed
to act as guardian of the kingdom, and Baliol himself was deprived
of all active power; but an instrument was prepared in his name,
reciting the injuries that he and his subjects had sustained at the
hands of the English king, and renouncing all further allegiance.
Following this up, a league was concluded, offensive and defensive,
between the French king and Scotland, represented by the prelates,
nobles, and community. Edward Baliol, the king's son, was contracted
to marry the French king's niece. Phillip bound himself to assist
Scotland against any invasion of England, and the Scotch agreed to
cross the Border in case Edward invaded France.

In making this alliance the Scots took the only step possible; for
they had no choice between fighting England with France as their
ally, or fighting France as the subjects of King Edward. The contest
which was approaching seemed all but hopeless. The population
of England was six times as large as that of Scotland, and Edward
could draw from Ireland and Wales great numbers of troops. The
English were trained to war by constant fighting in France, Ireland,
and Wales; while the Scots had, for a very long period, enjoyed
a profound peace, and were for the most part wholly ignorant of
warfare.

Edward at once prepared to invade Scotland; in January he seized
the lands owned by Comyn in Northumberland and sold them, directing
the money to be applied to the raising and maintenance of 1000
men-at-arms and 60,000 foot soldiers, and in February issued a writ
for the preparation of a fleet of 100 vessels.

On the 25th of March he crossed the Tweed with 5000 horse and 30,000
foot. The Scotch leaders were, of course, aware of the gathering
storm, and, collecting their forces, attempted a diversion by
crossing the Border to the west and making a raid into Cumberland.
King Edward, however, marched north and besieged Berwick, the richest
and most flourishing of the towns of Scotland. With the exception
of the castle, it was weakly fortified. The attack was commenced
by the fleet, who were, however, repulsed and driven off. A land
assault, led by the king in person, was then made; the walls were
captured, and the town completely sacked. The inhabitants were
butchered without distinction of age, sex, or condition, and even
those who fled to the churches were slain within the sanctuary.
Contemporary accounts differ as to the numbers who perished on this
occasion. Langtoff says 4000; Hemingford, 8000; Knighton, another
English writer, says 17,000; and Matthew of Westminster, 60,000.
Whichever of these writers is correct, it is certain that almost
the whole of the men, women, and children of the largest and most
populous Scottish town were butchered by the orders of the English
king, who issued direct orders that none should be spared.  From
this terrible visitation Berwick, which was before called the
Alexandria of the West, never recovered.  The castle, which was held
by Sir William Douglas, surrendered immediately; and Sir William,
having sworn fealty to the English king, was permitted to depart.

The English army now marched north. Patrick, Earl of Dunbar,
was with King Edward; but his wife, a noble and patriotic woman,
surrendered the castle to the Scots. The Earl of Surrey, with
a powerful army, sat down before it. The Scotch nobles and people
marched in great numbers, but with little order and discipline,
to raise the siege. They were met by Surrey, whose force, inured
to arms, easily routed the Scotch gathering, no fewer than 10,000
being killed in the conflict and retreat. The English army was
joined by 15,000 Welsh and 30,000 from Ireland, and marched through
Scotland, the castles and towns opening their gates to Edward as
he came, and the nobles, headed by James the Stewart, coming in and
doing homage to him. Baliol was forced to appear in the churchyard
of Strath-Cathro, near Montrose, arrayed in regal robes, and to
resign his kingdom to the Bishop of Durham as Edward's representative,
and to repeat the act a few days afterwards at Brechin in presence
of the king himself. He was then, with his son, sent a prisoner to
London, where they were confined in the Tower for several years.
From Brechin Edward marched through the whole of Scotland, visiting
all the principal towns. He had now dropped the title of Lord
Paramount of Scotland, the country being considered as virtually
part of England. Garrisons were placed in every stronghold in the
country, and many new castles were raised to dominate the people.
The public documents were all carried away to England, the great
seal broken in pieces, and the stone of Scone--upon which, for
five hundred years, every Scotch monarch had been crowned--was
carried away to Westminster, where it has ever since formed the
seat of the thrones upon which English monarchs have been crowned.

The tide of war had not passed near Glen Cairn; but the excitement,
as from time to time the news came of stirring events, was very
great. The tidings of the massacre of Berwick filled all with
consternation and grief. Some of the men quitted their homes and
fought at Dunbar, and fully half of these never returned; but great
as was the humiliation and grief at the reverses which had befallen
the Scotch arms, the feeling was even deeper and more bitter at the
readiness with which the whole of the Scotch nobles flocked in to
make their peace with King Edward.

It seemed so incredible that Scotland, which had so long successfully
resisted all invaders, should now tamely yield without a struggle,
that the people could scarce believe it possible that their boasted
freedom was gone, that the kingdom of Scotland was no more, and the
country become a mere portion of England.  Thus, while the nobles
with their Norman blood and connections accepted the new state of
things contentedly enough, well satisfied to have retained rank and
land, a deep and sullen discontent reigned among the people; they
had been betrayed rather than conquered, and were determined that
some day there should be an uprising, and that Scotland would make
a great effort yet for freedom.  But for this a leader was needed,
and until such a one appeared the people rested quiet and bided
their time.

From time to time there came to Glen Cairn tales of the doings of
that William Wallace who had, when the English first garrisoned the
Scottish castles, while Edward was choosing between the competitors
for her throne, killed young Selbye at Dundee, and had been outlawed
for the deed. After that he went and resided with his uncle, Sir
Ronald Crawford, and then with another uncle, Sir Richard Wallace
of Riccarton. Here he gathered a party of young men, eager spirits
like himself, and swore perpetual hostility to the English.

One day Wallace was fishing in the Irvine when Earl Percy, the
governor of Ayr, rode past with a numerous train.  Five of them
remained behind and asked Wallace for the fish he had taken. He
replied that they were welcome to half of them. Not satisfied with
this, they seized the basket and prepared to carry it off. Wallace
resisted, and one of them drew his sword. Wallace seized the staff
of his net and struck his opponent's sword from his hand; this he
snatched up and stood on guard, while the other four rushed upon
him.  Wallace smote the first so terrible a blow that his head was
cloven from skull to collarbone; with the next blow he severed the
right arm of another, and then disabled a third.  The other two
fled, and overtaking the earl, called on him for help; "for," they
said, "three of our number who stayed behind with us to take some
fish from the Scot who was fishing are killed or disabled."

"How many were your assailants?" asked the earl.

"But the man himself," they answered; "a desperate fellow whom we
could not withstand."

"I have a brave company of followers!" the earl said with scorn.
"You allow one Scot to overmatch five of you! I shall not return
to seek for your adversary; for were I to find him I should respect
him too much to do him harm."

Fearing that after this adventure he could no longer remain in
safety with his uncle, Wallace left him and took up his abode in
Lag Lane Wood, where his friends joining him, they lived a wild
life together, hunting game and making many expeditions through the
country. On one occasion he entered Ayr in disguise; in the middle
of a crowd he saw some English soldiers, who were boasting that they
were superior to the Scots in strength and feats of arms. One of
them, a strong fellow, was declaring that he could lift a greater
weight than any two Scots. He carried a pole, with which he offered,
for a groat, to let any Scotchman strike him on the back as hard
as he pleased, saying that no Scotchman could strike hard enough
to hurt him.

Wallace offered him three groats for a blow. The soldier eagerly
accepted the money, and Wallace struck him so mighty a blow that
his back was broken and he fell dead on the ground. His comrades
drew their swords and rushed at Wallace, who slew two with the
pole, and when it broke drew the long sword which was hidden in
his garments, and cut his way through them.

On another occasion he again had a fracas with the English in Ayr,
and after killing many was taken prisoner.  Earl Percy was away,
and his lieutenant did not venture to execute him until his return.
A messenger was sent to the Earl, but returned with strict orders
that nothing should be done to the prisoner until he came back.
The bad diet and foul air of the dungeon suited him so ill, after
his free life in the woods, that he fell ill, and was reduced
to so weak a state that he lay like one dead--the jailer indeed
thought that he was so, and he was carried out to be cast into the
prison burial ground, when a woman, who had been his nurse, begged
his body. She had it carried to her house, and then discovered that
life yet remained, and by great care and good nursing succeeded
in restoring him. In order to prevent suspicion that he was still
alive a fictitious funeral was performed.  On recovering, Wallace
had other frays with the English, all of which greatly increased
his reputation throughout that part of the country, so that more
adherents came to him, and his band began to be formidable. He
gradually introduced an organization among those who were found to
be friendly to the cause, and by bugle notes taken up and repeated
from spot to spot orders could be despatched over a wide extent of
country, by which the members of his band knew whether to assemble
or disperse, to prepare to attack an enemy, or to retire to their
fastnesses.

The first enterprise of real importance performed by the band was
an attack by Wallace and fifty of his associates on a party of
soldiers, 200 strong, conveying provisions from Carlisle to the
garrison of Ayr.  They were under the command of John Fenwick,
the same officer who had been at the head of the troop by which
Wallace's father had been killed.  Fenwick left twenty of his men
to defend the wagons, and with the rest rode forward against the
Scots. A stone wall checked their progress, and the Scotch, taking
advantage of the momentary confusion, made a furious charge upon
them with their spears, cutting their way into the midst of them
and making a great slaughter of men and horses. The English rode
round and round them, but the Scots, defending themselves with spear
and sword, stood so staunchly together that the English could not
break through.

The battle was long and desperate, but Wallace killed Fenwick with
his own hand, and after losing nigh a hundred of their number the
English fled in confusion. The whole convoy fell into the hands of
the victors, who became possessed of several wagons, 200 carriage
horses, flour, wine, and other stores in great abundance; with
these they retired into the forest of Clydesdale.

The fame of this exploit greatly increased the number of Wallace's
followers. So formidable did the gathering become that convoys by
land to Ayr were entirely interrupted, and Earl Percy held a council
of the nobility at Glasgow, and consulted them as to what had best
be done. Finally, Sir Ronald Crawford was summoned and told that
unless he induced his nephew to desist from hostilities they should
hold him responsible and waste his lands. Sir Ronald visited the
band in Clydesdale forest, and rather than harm should come upon
him, Wallace and his friends agreed to a truce for two months. Their
plunder was stowed away in places of safety, and a portion of the
band being left to guard it the rest dispersed to their homes.

Wallace returned to his uncle's, but was unable long to remain
inactive, and taking fifteen followers he went with them in disguise
to Ayr.  Wallace, as usual, was not long before he got into a
quarrel. An English fencing master, armed with sword and buckler,
was in an open place in the city, challenging any one to encounter
him. Several Scots tried their fortune and were defeated, and then
seeing Wallace towering above the crowd he challenged him. Wallace
at once accepted, and after guarding himself for some time, with
a mighty sweep of his sword cleft through buckler, arm, headpiece,
and skull.  The English soldiers around at once attacked him; his
friends rallied round him, and after hard fighting they made their
way to the spot where they had left their horses and rode to Lag
Lane Wood.

When Earl Percy heard that Wallace had been the leader in this
fray, and found on inquiry that he had slain the sword player in
fair fight after having been challenged by him, he refused to regard
him as having broken the truce, for he said the soldiers had done
wrong in attacking him. Earl Percy was himself a most gallant
soldier, and the extraordinary personal prowess of Wallace excited
in him the warmest admiration, and he would fain, if it had been
possible, have attached him to the service of England.

As soon as the truce was over Wallace again attacked the English.
For a time he abode with the Earl of Lennox, who was one of the
few who had refused to take the oath of allegiance, and having
recruited his force, he stormed the stronghold called the Peel
of Gargunnock, near Stirling. Then he entered Perth, leaving his
followers in Methven Wood, and hearing that an English reinforcement
was upon the march, formed an ambush, fell upon them, and defeated
them; and pressing hotly upon them entered so close on their heels
into Kincleven Castle, that the garrison had no time to close the
gate, and the place was captured. Great stores and booty were found
here; these were carried to the woods, and the castle was burned
to the ground, as that of Gargunnock had been, as Wallace's force
was too small to enable him to hold these strongholds. Indignant
at this enterprise so close to their walls the English moved out
the whole garrison, 1000 strong, against Wallace, who had with him
but fifty men in all. After a desperate defence, in which Sir John
Butler and Sir William de Loraine, the two officers in command,
were killed by Wallace himself, the latter succeeded in drawing off
his men; 120 of the English were killed in the struggle, of whom
more than twenty are said to have fallen at the hands of Wallace
alone. Many other similar deeds did Wallace perform; his fame grew
more and more, as did the feeling among the Scotch peasantry that
in him they had found their champion and leader.

Archie eagerly drank in the tale of Wallace's exploits, and his soul
was fired by the desire to follow so valiant a leader. He was now
sixteen, his frame was set and vigorous, and exercise and constant
practice with arms had hardened his muscles. He became restless
with his life of inactivity; and his mother, seeing that her quiet
and secluded existence was no longer suitable for him, resolved
to send him to her sister's husband, Sir Robert Gordon, who dwelt
near Lanark.  Upon the night before he started she had a long talk
with him.

"I have long observed, my boy," she said, "the eagerness with
which you constantly practise at arms; and Sandy tells me that he
can no longer defend himself against you. Sandy, indeed is not a
young man, but he is still hale and stout, and has lost but little
of his strength. Therefore it seems that, though but a boy, you may
be considered to have a man's strength, for your father regarded
Sandy as one of the stoutest and most skilful of his men-at-arms.
I know what is in your thoughts; that you long to follow in
your father's footsteps, and to win back the possessions of which
you have been despoiled by the Kerrs. But beware, my boy; you are
yet but young; you have no friends or protectors, save Sir Robert
Gordon, who is a peaceable man, and goes with the times; while
the Kerrs are a powerful family, able to put a strong body in the
field, and having many powerful friends and connections throughout
the country. It is our obscurity which has so far saved you, for
Sir John Kerr would crush you without mercy did he dream that you
could ever become formidable; and he is surrounded by ruthless
retainers, who would at a word from him take your life; therefore
think not for years to come to match yourself against the Kerrs.
You must gain a name and a following and powerful friends before
you move a step in that direction; but I firmly believe that the
time will come when you will become lord of Glencairn and the hills
around it. Next, my boy, I see that your thoughts are ever running
upon the state of servitude to which Scotland is reduced, and have
marked how eagerly you listen to the deeds of that gallant young
champion, Sir William Wallace. When the time comes I would hold
you back from no enterprise in the cause of our country; but at
present this is hopeless.  Valiant as may be the deeds which Wallace
and his band perform, they are as vain as the strokes of reeds upon
armour against the power of England."

"But, mother, his following may swell to an army."

"Even so, Archie; but even as an army it would be but as chaff before
the wind against an English array.  What can a crowd of peasants,
however valiant, do against the trained and disciplined battle of
England.  You saw how at Dunbar the Earl of Surrey scattered them
like sheep, and then many of the Scotch nobles were present. So
far there is no sign of any of the Scottish nobles giving aid or
countenance to Wallace, and even should he gather an army, fear
for the loss of their estates, a jealousy of this young leader,
and the Norman blood in their veins, will bind them to England,
and the Scotch would have to face not only the army of the invader,
but the feudal forces of our own nobles. I say not that enterprises
like those of Wallace do not aid the cause, for they do so greatly
by exciting the spirit and enthusiasm of the people at large, as
they have done in your case. They show them that the English are
not invincible, and that even when in greatly superior numbers
they may be defeated by Scotchmen who love their country. They keep
alive the spirit of resistance and of hope, and prepare the time
when the country shall make a general effort. Until that time
comes, my son, resistance against the English power is vain. Even
were it not so, you are too young to take part in such strife, but
when you attain the age of manhood, if you should still wish to
join the bands of Wallace--that is, if he be still able to make
head against the English--I will not say nay.  Here, my son,
is your father's sword. Sandy picked it up as he lay slain on the
hearthstone, and hid it away; but now I can trust it with you. May
it be drawn some day in the cause of Scotland! And now, my boy,
the hour is late, and you had best to bed, for it were well that
you made an early start for Lanark."

The next morning Archie started soon after daybreak.  On his back
he carried a wallet, in which was a new suit of clothes suitable
for one of the rank of a gentleman, which his mother had with great
stint and difficulty procured for him.  He strode briskly along,
proud of the possession of a sword for the first time. It was in
itself a badge of manhood, for at that time all men went armed.

As he neared the gates of Lanark he saw a party issue out and ride
towards him, and recognized in their leader Sir John Kerr. Pulling
his cap down over his eyes, he strode forward, keeping by the side
of the road that the horsemen might pass freely, but paying no heed
to them otherwise.

"Hallo, sirrah!" Sir John exclaimed, reining in his horse, "who
are you who pass a knight and a gentleman on the highway without
vailing his bonnet in respect?"

"I am a gentleman and the son of a knight," Archie said, looking
fearlessly up into the face of his questioner. "I am Archie Forbes,
and I vail my bonnet to no man living save those whom I respect
and honour."

So saying, without another word he strode forward to the town. Sir
John looked darkly after him.

"Red Roy," he said sternly, turning to one who rode behind him,
"you have failed in your trust. I told you to watch the boy, and
from time to time you brought me news that he was growing up but
a village churl. He is no churl, and unless I mistake me, he will
some day be dangerous. Let me know when he next returns to the
village; we must then take speedy steps for preventing him from
becoming troublesome."




Chapter III

Sir William Wallace


Archie's coming had been expected by Sir Robert Gordon, and he was
warmly welcomed. He had once or twice a year paid short visits to
the house, but his mother could not bring herself to part with him
for more than a few days at a time; and so long as he needed only
such rudiments of learning as were deemed useful at the time, she
herself was fully able to teach them; but now that the time had come
when it was needful that he should be perfected in the exercises
of arms, she felt it necessary to relinquish him.

Sir Robert Gordon had no children of his own, and regarded his
nephew as his heir, and had readily undertaken to provide him with
the best instruction which could be obtained in Lanark. There was
resident in the town a man who had served for many years in the
army of the King of France, and had been master of arms in his
regiment. His skill with his sword was considered marvellous by
his countrymen at Lanark, for the scientific use of weapons was as
yet but little known in Scotland, and he had also in several trials
of skill easily worsted the best swordsmen in the English garrison.

Sir Robert Gordon at once engaged this man as instructor to Archie.
As his residence was three miles from the town, and the lad urged
that two or three hours a day of practice would by no means satisfy
him, a room was provided, and his instructor took up his abode in
the castle. Here, from early morning until night, Archie practised,
with only such intervals for rest as were demanded by his master
himself. The latter, pleased with so eager a pupil, astonished at
first at the skill and strength which he already possessed, and
seeing in him one who would do more than justice to all pains that
he could bestow upon him, grudged no labour in bringing him forward
and in teaching him all he knew.

"He is already an excellent swordsman," he said at the end of
the first week's work to Sir Robert Gordon; "he is well nigh as
strong as a man, with all the quickness and activity of a boy. In
straightforward fighting he needs but little teaching. Of the finer
strokes he as yet knows nothing; but such a pupil will learn as
much in a week as the ordinary slow blooded learner will acquire
in a year. In three months I warrant I will teach him all I know,
and will engage that he shall be a match for any Englishman north
of the Tweed, save in the matter of downright strength; that he will
get in time, for he promises to grow out into a tall and stalwart
man, and it will need a goodly champion to hold his own against
him when he comes to his full growth."

In the intervals of pike and sword play Sir Robert Gordon himself
instructed him in equitation; but the lad did not take to this so
kindly as he did to his other exercises, saying that he hoped he
should always have to fight on foot. Still, as his uncle pointed
out that assuredly this would not be the case, since in battle
knights and squires always fought on horseback, he strove hard to
acquire a firm and steady seat.  Of an evening Archie sat with his
uncle and aunt, the latter reading, the former relating stories of
Scotch history and of the goings and genealogies of great families.
Sometimes there were friends staying in the castle; for Sir Robert
Gordon, although by no means a wealthy knight, was greatly liked,
and, being of an hospitable nature, was glad to have guests in the
house.

Their nearest neighbour was Mistress Marion Bradfute of Lamington,
near Ellerslie. She was a young lady of great beauty. Her father had
been for some time dead, and she had but lately lost her mother,
who had been a great friend of Lady Gordon. With her lived as
companion and guardian an aunt, the sister of her mother.

Mistress Bradfute, besides her estate of Lamington, possessed
a house in Lanark; and she was frequently at Sir Robert's castle,
he having been named one of her guardians under her father's will.
Often in the evening the conversation turned upon the situation
of Scotland, the cruelty and oppression of the English, and the
chances of Scotland some day ridding herself of the domination.

Sir Robert ever spoke guardedly, for he was one who loved not strife,
and the enthusiasm of Archie caused him much anxiety; he often,
therefore, pointed out to him the madness of efforts of isolated
parties like those of Wallace, which, he maintained, advanced in
no way the freedom of the country, while they enraged the English
and caused them to redouble the harshness and oppression of their
rule.  Wallace's name was frequently mentioned, and Archie always
spoke with enthusiasm of his hero; and he could see that, although
Mistress Bradfute said but little, she fully shared his views. It
was but natural that Wallace's name should come so often forward,
for his deeds, his hairbreadth escapes, his marvellous personal
strength and courage, were the theme of talk in every Scotch home;
but at Lanark at present it was specially prominent, for with his
band he had taken up his abode in a wild and broken country known
as Cart Lane Craigs, and more than once he had entered Lanark and
had had frays with the English soldiers there.

It was near a year since the defeat of Dunbar; and although the
feats of Wallace in storming small fortalices and cutting off English
convoys had excited at once hope amongst the Scotch and anger in the
English, the hold of the latter on the conquered country appeared
more settled than ever.  Wallace's adherents had indeed gained in
strength; but they were still regarded as a mere band of outlaws
who might be troublesome, but were in no degree formidable.

Every great town and hold throughout Scotland was garrisoned by
English in force deemed amply sufficient to repress any trouble
which might arise, while behind them was the whole power of England
ready to march north in case it should be needed. It seemed, indeed,
that Scotland was completely and for ever subjugated.

One afternoon, when Archie had escorted Mistress Bradfute to
Lamington, she said to him as he bade her farewell:

"I think you can keep a secret, Master Forbes."

"I trust so," Archie replied.

"I know how much you admire and reverence Sir William Wallace. If
you will come hither this evening, at eight o'clock, you shall see
him."

Archie uttered an exclamation of delight and surprise.

"Mind, Archie, I am telling you a secret which is known only to
Sir William himself and a few of his chosen followers; but I have
obtained his permission to divulge it to you, assuring him that
you can be fully trusted."

"I would lay down my life for him," the lad said.

"I think you would, Archie; and so would I, for Sir William Wallace
is my husband!"

Archie gave a gasp of astonishment and surprise.

"Yes," she repeated, "he is my husband. And now ride back to your
uncle's. I left the piece of embroidery upon which I was working on
your aunt's table. It will be a good excuse for you to ride over
with it this evening." So saying, she sprang lightly from the
pillion on which she had been riding behind Archie. The lad rode
back in wild excitement at the thought that before night he was
to see his hero whose deeds had, for the last three years, excited
his admiration and wonder.

At eight o'clock exactly he drew rein again at Lamington.  He was
at once admitted, and was conducted to a room where the mistress
of the house was sitting, and where beside her stood a very tall
and powerfully built young man, with a singularly handsome face
and a courteous and gentle manner which seemed altogether out of
character with the desperate adventures in which he was constantly
engaged.

In Scotland the laws of chivalry, as they were strictly observed
in the courts of England and France, did not prevail. Sir William
Wallace had not received the order of knighthood; but in Scotch
families the prefix of Sir descended from father to eldest son, as
it does in the present day with the title of Baronet. Thus William
Wallace, when his father and elder brother were killed, succeeded
to the title.  Knighthoods, or, as we should call them, baronetcies,
were bestowed in Scotland, as in England, for bravery in the field
and distinguished services. The English, with their stricter laws
of chivalry, did not recognize these hereditary titles; and Sir
William Wallace and many of his adherents who bear the prefix of
Sir in all Scotch histories, are spoken of without that title in
contemporary English documents. Archie himself had inherited the
title from his father; and the prefix was, indeed, applied to the
heads of almost all families of gentle blood in Scotland.

"This, Sir William," Marion said, "is Sir Archibald Forbes, of whom
I have often spoken to you as one of your most fervent admirers.
He is a true Scotsman, and he yearns for the time when he may draw
his sword in the cause of his country."

"He is over young yet," Sir William said smiling; "but time will
cure that defect. It is upon the young blood of Scotland that our
hopes rest. The elders are for the most part but half Scotchmen, and
do not feel shame for their country lying at the feet of England;
but from their sons I hope for better things. The example of my
dear friend, Sir John Grahame, is being followed; and I trust that
many young men of good family will soon join them."

"I would that the time had come when I too could do so, sir," Archie
said warmly. "I hope that it will not be long before you may think
me capable of being admitted to the honour of fighting beside you.
Do you not remember that you yourself were but eighteen when you
slew young Selbye?"

"I am a bad example to be followed," Sir William replied with a
smile; "besides, nature made an exception in my case and brought
me to my full strength and stature full four years before the time.
Mistress Marion tells me, however, that you too are strong beyond
your years."

"I have practised unceasingly, sir, with my weapons for the last
two years; and deem me not boastful when I say that my instructor,
Duncan Macleod of Lanark, who is a famous swordsman, says that
I could hold my own and more against any English soldier in the
garrison."

"I know Duncan by report," Sir William replied, "and that he is a
famous swordsman, having learned the art in France, where they are
more skilled by far than we are in Scotland. As for myself, I must
own that it is my strength rather than my skill which gives me an
advantage in a conflict; for I put my trust in a downright blow,
and find that the skill of an antagonist matters but little, seeing
that my blow will always cleave through sword as well as helm.
Nevertheless I do not decry skill, seeing that between two who
are in any ways equally matched in strength and courage the most
skilful swordsman must assuredly conquer.  Well, since that be the
report of you by Master Duncan, I should think you might even take
to arms at the age that I did myself and when that time comes,
should your intentions hold the same, and the English not have made
an end of me, I shall be right glad to have you by my side. Should
you, in any of your visits to Lanark--whither, Marion tells me, you
ride frequently with Sir Robert Gordon--hear ought of intended
movements of English troops, or gather any news which it may concern
me to know, I pray you to ride hither at once. Marion has always
messengers whom she may despatch to me, seeing that I need great
care in visiting her here, lest I might be surprised by the English,
who are ever upon the lookout for me. And now farewell! Remember
that you have always a friend in William Wallace."

Winter was now at hand, and a week or two later Mistress Marion
moved into her house in Lanark, where Archie, when he rode in,
often visited her. In one of her conversations she told him that
she had been married to Sir William nigh upon two years, and that
a daughter had been born to her who was at present kept by an old
nurse of her own in a cottage hard by Lamington. "I tell you this,
Archie," she said, "for there is no saying at what time calamity
may fall upon us. Sir William is so daring and careless that I
live in constant dread of his death or capture; and did it become
known that I am his wife, doubtless my estate would be forfeited
and myself taken prisoner; and in that case it were well that my
little daughter should find friends."

"I wonder that you do not stay at Lamington," Archie said; "for
Sir William's visits to you here may well be discovered, and both
he and you be put in peril."

"I would gladly do so," she said; "but as you may have heard, Young
Hazelrig, the governor's son, persecutes me with his attentions;
he is moved thereto methinks rather by a desire for my possessions
than any love for myself.  He frequently rode over to Lamington
to see me, and as there are necessarily many there who suspect, if
they do not know, my secret, my husband would be more likely to be
surprised in a lonely house there, than he would be in the city,
where he can always leave or enter our abode by the passage into
a back street unseen by any."

A few days later Archie had ridden into Lanark bearing a message
from his uncle; he had put up his horse, and was walking along the
principal street when he heard a tumult and the clashing of swords;
he naturally hurried up to see what was the cause of the fray, and
he saw Sir William Wallace and a young companion defending themselves
with difficulty against a number of English soldiers led by young
Hazelrig, the son of the governor, and Sir Robert Thorne, one of
his officers. Archie stood for a few moments irresolute; but as
the number of the assailants increased, as fresh soldiers hearing
the sound of the fray came running down the street, and Sir William
and his friend, although they had slain several, were greatly
overmatched, he hesitated no longer, but, drawing his sword, rushed
through the soldiers, and placing himself by the side of Wallace,
joined in the fray. Wallace recognized him with a nod.

"It is sooner than I bargained for, Sir Archie; but you are very
welcome. Ah! that was well smitten, and Duncan did not overpraise
your skill," he exclaimed, as Archie cut down one soldier, and
wounded another who pressed upon him.

"They are gathering in force, Sir William," the knight's companion
said, "and if we do not cut our way through them we shall assuredly
be taken." Keeping near the wall they retreated down the street,
Archie and Sir John Grahame, for it was he, clearing the way, and
Wallace defending the rear. So terrific were the blows he dealt
that the English soldiers shrank back from attacking him.

At this moment two horsemen rode up and reined in their horses to
witness the fray. They were father and son, and the instant the
eyes of the elder fell upon Archie he exclaimed to his son:

"This is good fortune. That is young Forbes fighting by the side
of the outlaw Wallace. I will finish our dispute at once."

So saying he drew his sword, and urged his horse through the
soldiers towards Archie; the latter equally recognized the enemy of
his family. Sir John aimed a sweeping blow at him.  The lad parried
it, and, leaping back, struck at the horse's leg. The animal fell
instantly, and as he did so Archie struck full on the helm of Sir
John Kerr, stretching him on the ground beside his horse.

By this time the little party had retreated down the street until
they were passing the house of Marion Bradfute. The door opened,
and Marion herself cried to them to enter. So hemmed in were they,
indeed, that further retreat was now impossible, and there being
no time for hesitation, Wallace and his companions sprang in before
their assailants could hinder them, and shut the door behind them.

"Marion," Wallace exclaimed, "why did you do this? It mattered
not were I killed or taken; but now you have brought danger upon
yourself."

"But it mattered much to me. What would life be worth were you
killed? Think not of danger to me. Angry as they may be, they will
hardly touch a woman. But waste no time in talking, for the door
will soon yield to their blows. Fly by the back entrance, while
there is time."

So saying, she hurried them to the back of the house, and without
allowing them to pause for another word almost pushed them out, and
closed the door behind them. The lane was deserted; but the shouts
and clamour of the English soldiers beyond the houses rose loud in
the air. "Quick, Sir William," Sir John Grahame said, "or we shall
be cut off!  They will bethink them of the back way, and send
soldiers down to intercept us."

Such, indeed, was the case, for as they ran they heard shouts behind,
and saw some English soldiers entering the other end of the lane.
In front, however, all was clear, and running on they turned into
another street, and then down to the gate. The guard, hearing the
tumult, had turned out, and seeing them running, strove to bar
their way. Wallace, however, cleared a path by sweeping blows with
his sword, and dashing through the gates into the open country
they were safe. For some distance they ran without checking their
speed, and then as they neared a wood, where they no longer feared
pursuit, they broke into a walk.

"My best thanks to you," Wallace said to Archie. "You have indeed
proved yourself a staunch and skilful swordsman, and Duncan's opinion
is well founded.  Indeed I could wish for no stouter sword beside
me in a fight; but what will you do now? If you think that you were
not recognized you can return to your uncle; but if any there knew
you, you must even then take to the woods with me."

"I was recognized," Archie said in a tone of satisfaction.  "The
armed knight whom you saw attack me was Sir John Kerr, the slayer
of my father and the enemy of my house.  Assuredly he will bring
the news of my share in the fray to the ears of the governor."

"I do not think that he will carry any news for some time," Sir
William replied; "for that blow you gave him on the head must have
well nigh brought your quarrel to an end.  It is a pity your arm
had not a little more weight, for then, assuredly you would have
slain him."

"But the one with him was his son," Archie said, "and would know
me too; so that I shall not be safe for an hour at my uncle's."

"In that case, Sir Archie, you must needs go with me, there being
no other way for it, and truly, now that it is proved a matter of
necessity, I am glad that it has so chanced, since I see that your
youth is indeed no drawback; and Sir John Grahame will agree with
me that there is no better sword in my company."

"Yes, indeed," the young knight said. "I could scarce believe my
eyes when I saw one so young bear himself so stoutly. Without his
aid I could assuredly have made no way through the soldiers who
barred our retreat; and truly his sword did more execution than
mine, although I fought my best. If you will accept my friendship,
young sir, henceforth we will be brothers in arms." Colouring with
pleasure, Archie grasped the hand which the young knight held out
to him.

"That is well said, Sir John," Wallace assented. "Hitherto you and
I have been like brothers; henceforth there will be three of us,
and I foresee that the only difficulty we shall have with this
our youngest relation will be to curb his courage and ardour. Who
knows," he went on sadly, "but that save you two I am now alone in
the world! My heart misgives me sorely as to the fate of Marion; and
were it not for the sake of Scotland, to whom my life is sworn, I
would that I had stopped and died outside her door before I entered
and brought danger upon her head. Had I had time to reflect, methinks
I would have done so; but I heard her call, I saw the open door,
and without time for thought or reflection I leapt in."

"You must not blame yourself, Sir William," Grahame said, "for,
indeed, there was no time for thought; nor will I that it should
have been otherwise, even should harm, which I cannot believe,
befall Mistress Marion.  It is on you that the hopes of Scotland
now rest. You have awakened her spirit and taught the lesson of
resistance. Soon I hope that the fire now smouldering in the breast
of every true Scotsman will burst into flame, and that Scotland
will make a great effort for freedom; but were you to fall now,
despair would seize on all and all hope of a general rising be at
an end."

Wallace made no reply, but strode silently forward. A short distance
farther they came to the spot where three of Wallace's followers
were holding horses, for he had on his entry into Lanark, been
accompanied by another of his party, who had been slain at the
commencement of the fray. Wallace bade Archie mount the spare horse,
and they then rode to Cart Lane Craigs, scarce a word being spoken
on their journey.

Wallace's headquarters were upon a narrow shelf of rock on the face
of a steep and craggy hill. It was well chosen against surprise,
and could be held against sudden attack even by a large force,
since both behind and in front the face of the hill was too steep
to be climbed, and the only approach was by a steep and winding
path which two men could hold against a host. The ledge was some
50 feet long by 12 wide.  At the back a natural depression in the
crags had been deepened so as to form a shallow cave just deep
enough to afford a defense against the weather; here a pile of
heather served as a bed for Wallace, Grahame, and one or two others
of the leaders of his company, and here Wallace told Archie that
his place was to be. On the ledge without were some low arbours of
heather in which lay ten of Wallace's bravest companions; the rest
of his band were scattered among the surrounding hills, or in the
woods, and a bugle note repeated from place to place would call
all together in a short space of time.

Of stores and provisions there was no lack, these having been
obtained in very large quantities from the convoys of supplies and
the castles that had been captured. Money, too, was not wanting,
considerable amounts having fallen into their hands, and the
peasantry through all the country round were glad in every way to
assist the band, whom they regarded as their champions.

Archie sat down by Sir John Grahame, who gave him particulars
regarding the strength of the various bands, their position, the
rules which had been laid down by Wallace for their order, the system
of signals and other particulars; while Wallace paced restlessly up
and down the narrow shelf, a prey to the keenest anxiety. Towards
nightfall two of the men were despatched towards Lanark to endeavour
to find out what had taken place there; but in an hour they returned
with a woman, whom both Sir William and Archie recognized as one of
the female attendants of Marion. A single glance sufficed to tell
her tale. Her face was swollen with crying, and wore a look of
horror as well as of grief.

"She is dead!" Wallace exclaimed in a low voice.

"Alas!" the woman sobbed, "that I should have to tell it.  Yes, my
dear mistress is dead; she was slain by the orders of the governor
himself, for having aided your escape."

A groan burst from Wallace, a cry of horror and indignation from
his followers. The former turned, and without a word strode away
and threw himself upon the heather. The others, heart struck at
the cruel blow which had befallen their chief, and burning with
indignation and rage, could only utter oaths of vengeance and curses
on the English tyrants.

After a time Grahame went to the cave, and putting his hand on
Wallace's shoulder strove to address a few words of consolation to
him.

Sir William rose: "I have done with weeping, Grahame, or rather I
will put off my weeping until I have time for it.  The first thing
to think of is vengeance, and vengeance I swear that I will have.
This night I will strike the first blow in earnest towards freeing
Scotland. It may be that God has willed it that this cruel blow,
which has been struck at me, shall be the means of bringing this
about. Hitherto, although I have hated the English and have fought
against them, it has been but fitfully and without order or method,
seeing that other things were in my heart. Henceforth I will live
but for vengeance and Scotland. Hitherto the English have regarded
me as an outlaw and a brigand. Henceforth they shall view me as an
enemy to be dreaded. Sound the signal of assembly at once. Signify
that as many as are within reach shall gather below in two hours.
There will be but few, for, not dreaming of this, the bands but
two days since dispersed. But even were there none but ourselves
it would suffice. Tonight we will take Lanark."




Chapter IV

The Capture of Lanark


A low shout of enthusiasm rose from Wallace's followers, and they
repeated his words as though it had been a vow: "Tonight we will
take Lanark." The notes of a bugle rang through the air, and Archie
could hear them repeated as by an echo by others far away in the
woods.

The next two hours were spent in cooking and eating a meal; then
the party on the ledge descended the narrow path, several of their
number bearing torches. At a short distance from its foot some other
torches were seen, and fifteen men were found gathered together.

In a few words the sad news of what had taken place at Lanark was
related to them and the determination which had been arrived at,
and then the whole party marched away to the west. Archie's heart
beat with excitement as he felt himself engaged in one of the adventures
which had so filled his thoughts and excited his admiration. An
adventure, too, far surpassing in magnitude and importance any in
which Wallace had hitherto been engaged.

It seemed almost like an act of madness for twenty-five men to
attack a city garrisoned by over 500 English troops, defended by
strong walls; but Archie never doubted for a moment that success
would attend the enterprise, so implicit was his confidence in his
leader. When at some little distance from the town they halted,
and Wallace ordered a tree to be felled and lopped of its branches.
It was some eight inches in diameter at the butt and thirty feet
long. A rope had been brought, and this was now cut into lengths
of some four feet. Wallace placed ten of his men on each side of
the tree, and the cords being placed under it, it was lifted and
carried along with them.

Before they started Wallace briefly gave them his orders, so that
no word need be spoken when near the town.  The band were, when
they entered, to divide in three. Sir John Grahame, with a party,
was to make for the dwelling of Sir Robert Thorne. Auchinleck, who
had arrived with the party summoned by the bugle, was to arouse
the town and attack any parties of soldiers in the street, while
Wallace himself was to assault the house of Hazelrig. He bade Archie
accompany him.

Knowing the town well Wallace led the party to the moat at a spot
facing a sally port. They moved without a word being spoken. The
men bearing the tree laid it noiselessly to the ground. Wallace
himself sprang into the moat and swam across. The splash in the
water attracted the attention of a sentry over the gate, who at
once challenged. There was no answer, and the man again shouted,
peering over the wall to endeavour to discover what had caused
the splash. In a few vigorous strokes Wallace was across, hauled
himself up to the sill of the door, and with his heavy battleaxe
smote on the chains which held up the drawbridge. Two mighty blows
and the chains yielded, and the drawbridge fell with a crash across
the moat.

Instantly the men lifted the tree, and dashing across swung it
like a battering ram against the door--half a dozen blows, and
the oak and iron yielded before it. The door was burst in and the
party entered Lanark.  The sentry on the wall had fled at once to
arouse the garrison. Instantly the three leaders started to perform
the tasks assigned to them.  As yet the town lay in profound sleep,
although near the gate windows were opening and heads were being
put out to ascertain the cause of the din. As the Scots ran forward
they shouted "Death to the English, death to the bloody Hazelrig!"
The governor had long been odious for his cruelty and tyranny, and
the murder of Marion Bradfute had that day roused the indignation
of the people to the utmost. Not knowing how small was the force
that had entered the town, but hoping only that deliverers had
arrived, numbers of the burghers rose and armed themselves, and
issued forth into the streets to aid their countrymen. Wallace soon
arrived at the governor's house, and with a few blows with his axe
broke in the door; then he and his followers rushed into the house,
cutting down the frightened men as they started up with sudden
alarm, until he met Sir John Hazelrig, who had snatched up his arms
and hurried from his chamber.

"Villain!" Wallace exclaimed, seizing him by his throat; "your time
has come to make atonement for the murder of my wife."

Then dragging him into the street he called upon the burghers,
who were running up, to witness the execution of their tyrant,
and stepping back a pace smote off his head with his sword. Young
Hazelrig was also killed, as were all soldiers found in the house.
The alarm bells were ringing now, and in a few minutes the armed
burghers swarmed in the street. As the English soldiers, as yet
but scarce awake, and bewildered by this sudden attack, hurried
from their houses, they were fallen upon and slain by Wallace and
the townspeople. Some of those in the larger houses issuing forth
together were able to cut their way through and to make their
escape by the gates; many made for the walls, and dropping in the
moat swam across and escaped; but two hundred and fifty of their
number were left dead in the streets. The town, once cleared of the
English, gave itself up to wild rejoicings; bonfires were lighted
in the streets, the bells were rung, and the wives and daughters
of the citizens issued out to join in their rejoicing and applaud
their liberators.

Wallace held council at once with the chief burghers.  Their talk
was a grave one, for though rejoicing in the liberation of the city,
they could not but perceive that the situation was a serious one.
By the defeat and destruction of the garrison, and the slaying of
the governor, the town would bring upon itself the terrible wrath
of King Edward, and of what he was capable the murdered thousands
at Berwick sufficiently attested. However, the die was cast and there
was no drawing back, and the burghers undertook to put their town
in a state of full defence, to furnish a contingent of men-at-arms to
Wallace, and to raise a considerable sum of money to aid him in the
carrying on of the war; while he on his part undertook to endeavour,
as fast as possible, to prevent the English from concentrating their
forces for a siege of the town, by so harassing their garrisons
elsewhere that none would be able to spare troops for any general
purposes.

Proclamations were immediately made out in the name of Wallace,
and were sent off by mounted messengers throughout the country.
In these he announced to the people of Scotland that he had raised
the national banner and had commenced a war for the freeing of the
country from the English, and that as a first step he had captured
Lanark. He called upon all true Scotchmen to rally round him.

While the council was being held, the wives of the burghers had
taken the body of Marion from the place where it had been cast,
and where hitherto none had dared to touch it, and had prepared it
for burial, placing it in a stone coffin, such as were in use in
those days, upon a car which was covered with trappings of white and
green boughs.  Soon after daybreak a great procession was formed,
and accompanied by all the matrons and maids of Lanark the body
was conveyed to the church at Ellerslie, and there buried with
the rites of the church. This sad duty ended, Wallace mounted his
horse and rode for Cart Lane Craigs, which he had named as the
rendezvous where all who loved Scotland and would follow him, were
to assemble. Archie rode first to Sir Robert Gordon's. His uncle
received him kindly.

"Ah! my boy," he said, "I feared that your wilful disposition would
have its way. You have embarked young on a stormy course, and none
can say where it will end. I myself have no hope that it can be
successful. Did the English rule depend solely on the troops which
garrison our towns and fortresses, I should believe that Wallace
might possibly expel them; but this is as nothing. Edward can march
a hundred and fifty thousand trained soldiers hither, and how will
it be possible for any gathering of Scotchmen to resist these?
However, you have chosen your course, and as it is too late to
draw back now, I would not dispirit you. Take the best of my horses
from the stable, and such arms and armour as you may choose from
the walls. Here is a purse for your own private needs, and in this
other are a hundred pounds, which I pray you hand to Sir William
Wallace. Fighting never was in my way, and I am too old to begin
now. Tell him, however, that my best wishes are with him. I have
already sent word to all my tenants that they are free, if they
choose, to follow his banner."

"You have plenty of pikes and swords in the armoury, uncle; weapons
will be very useful; can I take some of them?"

"Certainly, Archie, as many as you like. But your aunt wants you
to ride at once to Glen Cairn, to ask your mother to come over here
and take up her abode till the stormy times are over. The news of
last night's doings in Lanark will travel fast, and she will be
terribly anxious. Besides, as the Kerrs are heart and soul with the
English faction, like enough they will take the opportunity of the
disturbed times, and of your being involved in the rising, to destroy
the hold altogether, seeing that so long as it stands there it is
a sort of symbol that their lordship over the lands is disputed."

"The very thing that I was going to ask you, uncle. My mother's
position at Glen Cairn would always be on my mind.  As to the
Kerrs, let them burn the castle if they will. If the rising fail,
and I am killed, the line will be extinct, and it matters little
about our hold. If we succeed, then I shall regain my own, and shall
turn the tables on the Kerrs, and will rebuild Glen Cairn twice as
strong as before. And now can I take a cart to convey the arms?"

"Certainly, Archie; and may they be of service in the cause. You
will, I suppose, conduct your mother hither?"

Archie replied that he should do so, and then at once made his
preparations for the start. His uncle's armoury was well supplied,
and Archie had no difficulty in suiting himself. For work like
that which he would have to do he did not care to encumber himself
with heavy armour, but chose a light but strong steel cap, with a
curtain of mail falling so as to guard the neck and ears, leaving
only the face exposed, and a shirt of the same material. It was
of fine workmanship and of no great weight, and did not hamper
his movements.  He also chose some leg pieces for wearing when on
horseback. He had already his father's sword, and needed only a
light battleaxe and a dagger to complete his offensive equipment.
Then he took down from the racks twenty swords and as many short
pikes, and bonnets strengthened with iron hoops, which, although
light, were sufficient to give much protection to the head. These
were all placed in a light cart, and with one of his uncle's
followers to drive, he took his seat in the cart, and started for
Cart Lane Craigs.

Here he concealed the arms in a thicket, and then went up to speak
to his leader.

"May I take ten men with me to Glen Cairn, Sir William? I am going
to fetch my mother to reside with my uncle until the storm is
over. He has sent you a hundred pounds towards the expenses of the
struggle. I want the guard because it is possible that the Kerrs
may be down there. I hear Sir John was carried away, three hours
after the fight, in a litter; it was well for him that he was not
in Lanark when we took it. But like enough this morning, if well
enough to give orders, he may be sending down to Glen Cairn to see
if I have returned, and may burn the hold over my mother's head."

"Certainly," Sir William replied. "Henceforth I will put twenty
men under your special orders, but for today Sir John Grahame shall
tell off some of his own party. Of course they will go well armed."

Half riding in the cart and half walking by turns, the party reached
Glen Cairn late in the afternoon. The news of the fall of Lanark
had already penetrated even to that quiet village, and there was
great excitement as Archie and his party came in. One of Wallace's
messengers had passed through, and many of the men were preparing
to join him. Dame Forbes was at once proud and grieved when Archie
told her of the share which he had had in the street fray at Lanark,
and in the capture of the town. She was proud that her son should
so distinguish himself, grieved that he should, at so young an
age, have become committed to a movement of whose success she had
but little hope. However, she could not blame him, as it seemed as
if his course had been forced upon him. She agreed to start early
the next morning.

It was well for Archie that he had brought a guard with him,
for before he had been an hour in the hold a boy ran in from the
village saying that a party of the Kerrs was close at hand, and
would be there in a few minutes. Archie set his men at once to pile
up a barricade of stones breast high at the outer gate, and took
his position there with his men. He had scarcely completed his
preparations when the trampling of horses was heard and a party
of ten men, two of whom bore torches, headed by young Allan Kerr,
rode up. They drew rein abruptly as they saw the barricade with
the line of pikes behind it.

"What want you here, Allan Kerr?" Archie said.

"I came in search of you, little traitor," young Kerr replied
angrily.

"Here I am," Archie said; "why don't you come and take me?"

Allan saw that the number of the defenders of the gate exceeded
that of his own party, and there might, for aught he knew, be more
within.

"I will take you tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow never comes," Archie replied with a laugh.  "Your father
thought to take me yesterday. How is the good knight? Not suffering,
I trust, greatly either in body or temper?"

"You shall repent this, Archibald Forbes," Allan Kerr exclaimed
furiously. "It will be my turn next time."

And turning his horse he rode off at full speed, attended by his
followers.

"We had best start at once, Master Archie," Sandy Graham said:
"it is eight miles to the Kerrs' hold, and when Allan Kerr returns
there you may be sure they will call out their vassals and will be
here betimes in the morning. Best get another cart from the village,
for your men are weary and footsore, seeing that since yesterday
even they have been marching without ceasing. Elspie will by this
time have got supper ready.  There was a row of ducks and chickens
on the spit when I came away."

"That were best, Sandy. Do you see to their comforts, and aid my
mother pack up such things as she most values, and I will go myself
down to the village for the cart, for I wish to speak with some
there."

Archie had no difficulty in engaging two carts, as he thought that
one would be needed for his mother and what possessions she might
take. Then he went from house to house and saw his old companions,
and told them of his plans, which filled them with delight. Having
done this he returned to the hold, hastily ate the supper which
had been put aside for him, and then saw that his mother's chests,
which contained all her possessions save a few articles of heavy
furniture, were placed in one of the carts. A bed was then laid
on its floor upon which she could sit comfortably. Elspie mounted
with her. Archie, Sandy, and the men took their places in the other
carts, and the party drove off. They had no fear of interruption,
for the Kerrs, ignorant of the number who had arrived with Archie
at Glen Cairn, would not venture to attack until they had gathered
a considerable force, and would not be likely to set out till
morning, and long before that time Dame Forbes would have arrived
at her sister's.

The journey was indeed performed without incident, the escort
leaving them when within two or three miles of Lanark, and making
their way direct to the craigs, whither Archie, the moment he had
seen his mother safely at Sir Robert Gordon's, returned. He did
not mount the craig, but wrapping himself in his cloak lay down at
its foot.

As soon as it was daylight he walked out a mile on the road towards
Glen Cairn. He soon saw a party approaching in military order. They
halted when they reached him. They were twenty in number, and were
the lads of his band at Glen Cairn, ranging between the ages of
sixteen and eighteen.  They had originally been stronger, but some
of the elders had already joined Wallace's followers.

"Now," Archie said, "I can explain matters farther than I did last
night. I have procured arms for you all, and I hope that you will
have opportunities of using them. But though some of you are old
enough to join Wallace's band, there are others whom he might not
deem fit to take part in such desperate enterprises.  Therefore
at first make but little show of your arms. I shall present you to
Sir William, telling him that I have brought you hither to serve
as messengers, and to enter towns held by the English and gather
news, seeing that lads would be less suspected than men. But I
propose farther, what I shall not tell him, that you shall form a
sort of bodyguard to him. He takes not sufficient care of himself,
and is ever getting into perils.  I propose that without his
knowing it, you shall be ever at hand when he goes into danger of
this sort, and may thus prevent his falling into the hands of his
enemies. Now, mind, lads, this is a great and honourable mission.
You must be discreet as well as brave, and ready all of you to give
your lives, if need be, for that of Scotland's champion. Your work
as messengers and scouts will be arduous and wearisome. You must
be quiet and well behaved--remember that boys' tricks and play
are out of place among men engaged in a desperate enterprise. Mingle
not much with the others. Be active and prompt in obeying orders,
and be assured that you will have opportunities of winning great
honour and credit, and of having your full share of hard knocks.
You will, as before, be divided into two companies, William Orr and
Andrew Macpherson being your lieutenants in my absence. You will
obey their orders as implicitly as mine. Cluny, you have, I suppose,
brought, as I bade you last night, some of your sister's garments?"

"Yes, Sir Archie," the boy, who was fair and slight, said, with a
smile on his face.

"That is right. I know you are as hearty and strong as the rest;
but seeing that your face is the smoothest and softest of any,
you will do best should we need one in disguise as a girl. And now
come with me. I will show you where your arms are placed; but at
present you must not take them. If I led you as an armed band to
Wallace he might deem you too young. I must present you merely as
lads whom I know to be faithful and trustworthy, and who are willing
to act as messengers and scouts to his force."

So saying Archie led the band to the thicket where he had placed
their arms, and the lads were pleased when they saw the pikes,
swords, and head pieces. Then he led them up the craig to Wallace.

"Why, whom have you here?" Sir William exclaimed in surprise. "This
will not do, Sir Archie. All lads are not like yourself, and were
I to take such boys into my ranks I should have all the mothers in
Scotland calling out against me."

"I have not brought them to join your ranks, Sir William, although
many of them are stout fellows who might do good service at a
pinch. I have brought them to act as messengers and scouts. They
can carry orders whithersoever you may have occasion to send. They
can act as scouts to warn you of the approach of an enemy; or if
you need news of the state of any of the enemy's garrisons, they
can go thither and enter without being suspected, when a man might
be questioned and stopped. They are all sons of my father's vassals
at Glen Cairn, and I can answer for their fidelity. I will take
them specially under my own charge, and you will ever have a fleet
and active messenger at hand when you desire to send an order."

"The idea is not a bad one," Sir William replied; "and in such a
way a lad may well do the work of a man.  Very well, Sir Archie,
since you seem to have set your mind upon it I will not say nay.
At any rate we can give the matter a trial, understanding that you
take the charge of them and are responsible for them in all ways.
Now, lads," he said turning, "you have heard that your lord, for
he is your rightful lord, and will, if Scotland gains the day, be
your real lord again, has answered for you. It is no boys' play
in which you have taken service, for the English, if they conquer
us, will show no further mercy to you than to others of my band. I
understand then that you are all prepared, if need be, to die for
Scotland. Is this so?"

"We are, sir," the lads exclaimed together.

"Then so be it," Sir William said. "Now, Sir Archie, do you fix
a place for their encampment, and make such other arrangements
as you may think fit. You will, of course, draw rations and other
necessaries for them as regular members of the band."

Archie descended with his troop from the craigs, and chose a spot
where they would be apart from the others. It was a small piece of
ground cut off by the stream which wound at the foot of the craigs,
so that to reach it it was necessary to wade knee deep through the
water. This was no inconvenience to the lads, all of whom, as was
common with their class at the time, were accustomed to go barefoot,
although they sometimes wore a sort of sandal. Bushes were cut
down, and arbours made capable of containing them. The spot was
but a little distance from the foot of the path up the craigs, and
any one descending the path could be seen from it.

Archie gave orders that one was always to be above in readiness to
start instantly with a message; that a sentry was to be placed at
the camp, who was to keep his eyes upon the path, and the moment
the one on duty above was seen to leave, the next upon the list was
to go up and take his place.  None were to wander about the wood,
but all were to remain in readiness for any duty which might be
required. The two lieutenants were charged to drill them constantly
at their exercises so as to accustom them to the weight and handle
of their arms. Two were to be sent off every morning to the depot
where the provisions were issued, to draw food for the whole for
the day, and four were to be posted five miles away on the roads
leading towards the craigs to give warning of the approach of any
enemies. These were to be relieved every six hours. They were to
be entirely unarmed, and none were to issue from the camp with arms
except when specially ordered.

Having made these arrangements, and taking with him one of the band
as the first on duty above, he rejoined Wallace at his post on the
craigs.

Wallace's numbers now increased fast. On hearing of the fall of
Lanark, and on the receipt of the proclamation calling upon all
true Scotchmen to join him in his effort to deliver their country
from its yoke, the people began to flock in in great numbers. Richard
Wallace of Riccarton and Robert Boyd came in with such force as
they could collect from Kyle and Cunningham, among whom were not
less than 1000 horsemen. Sir John Grahame, Sir John of Tinto, and
Auchinleck assembled about 3000 mounted troops and a large number
of foot, many of whom, however, were imperfectly armed. Sir Ronald
Crawford, Wallace's uncle, being so close to Ayr, could not openly
join him, but secretly sent reinforcements and money. Many other
gentlemen joined with their followers.

The news of the fall of Lanark and of the numbers who were flocking
to join Wallace paralysed the commanders of the English garrisons,
and for a time no steps were taken against him; but news of the
rising was instantly sent to King Edward, who, furious at this
fresh trouble in Scotland, which he had deemed finally conquered,
instantly commenced preparations for another invasion. A body of
troops was at once sent forward from England, and, being strengthened
by bodies drawn from all the garrisons, assembled at Biggar.  The
army was commanded by the Earl of Kent. Heralds were sent to Wallace
offering him not only pardon but an honourable post if he would
submit, but warning him that if he refused this offer he should,
when taken, be treated as a rebel and hung.

Wallace briefly refused submission, and said that he should be
ready to give battle on the following morning.

At daybreak the army set forth, divided into three parts.  Wallace,
with Boyd and Auchinleck, commanded one; Sir John Grahame, with
Wallace of Riccarton, the second; Sir Walter of Newbigging, with his
son David and Sir John Clinto, the third. The cavalry were placed
in front. The footmen, being imperfectly armed and disciplined,
and therefore unable to withstand the first charge of the English,
followed the cavalry.

Before marching forward Wallace called the commanders round him
and charged them earnestly to restrain their men from plunder until
the contest was decided, pointing out that many a battle had been
lost owing to the propensity of those who gained the first advantage
to scatter for plunder. Just as the Scotch were moving, a body of
300 horsemen, well armed and equipped, from Annandale and Eskdale,
led by Halliday, Kirkpatrick, and Jardine, joined them; and with
this accession of strength they marched forward confidently against
the enemy.




Chapter V

A Treacherous Plot


So rapid was the advance of Wallace's army that the English had
scarce time to form when they were upon them. The Scotch charged
with extreme impetuosity among the English ranks, directing the
onslaught principally against the centre, commanded by the Earl of
Kent.

The English resisted stoutly; but the Earl of Kent was struck down
by Wallace himself, and was with difficulty borne off the field;
and after severe fighting, the whole English army was thrown into
disorder and took to flight. Some hundreds were killed in action,
and many more in the pursuit which followed; this, however, Wallace
would not allow to be pushed too far lest the fugitives should
rally and turn. Then the victorious Scots returned to the English
camp. In this was found a great abundance of provisions, arms,
and other valuable booty. Many of the cattle were killed, and a
sumptuous feast prepared. Then Wallace had the whole of the spoil
carried off into a place of safety in the heart of a neighbouring
bog, and he himself fell back to that shelter.

In the morning the English, who had rallied when the pursuit had
ceased, again advanced, hoping to find Wallace unprepared. They
were now commanded by the Earl of Lancaster, and had received some
reinforcements in the night.  They passed over the scene of the
previous day's battle, and at last came in sight of the Scotch
army. Wallace at first advanced, and then, as if dismayed at their
superior strength, retired to the point where, in order to reach
them, the English would have to cross a portion of the bog. The
surface was covered with moss and long grass, and the treacherous
nature of the ground was unperceived by the English, who, filled
with desire to wipe out their defeat of the preceding day, charged
impetuously against the Scotch line. The movement was fatal, for
as soon as they reached the treacherous ground their horses sunk
to the saddle girths. The Scotch had dismounted on firmer ground
behind, and now advanced to the attack, some working round the
flanks of the morass, others crossing on tufts of grass, and so
fell upon the struggling mass of English. The Earl of Westmoreland
and many others of note were killed, and the Earl of Lancaster,
with the remains of his force, at once retreated south and recrossed
the Border.

Archie had taken no part in the first battle. Wallace had asked
him whether he would fight by his side or take command of a body
of infantry; and he chose the latter alternative. Almost all the
knights and gentlemen were fighting on horse with their followers,
and Archie thought that if these were repulsed the brunt of the fray
would fall upon the infantry. On this occasion, then, he gathered
with his band of lads a hundred or so pikemen, and formed them in
order, exhorting them, whatever happened, to keep together and to
stand stoutly, even against a charge of horse. As the victory was
won entirely by the cavalry he had no opportunity of distinguishing
himself. Upon the second day, however, he did good service,
as he and his lightly armed footmen were able to cross the bog in
places impracticable to the dismounted men-at-arms in their heavy
accoutrements.

The victory of Biggar still further swelled Wallace's forces. Sir
William Douglas joined him, and other gentlemen. A great meeting
was held at Forest Kirk, when all the leaders of Wallace's force
were present; and these agreed to acknowledge him as general of
the Scottish forces against England, with the title of Warden of
Scotland.

King Edward was at this time busied with his wars in France, and
was unable to despatch an army capable of effecting the reconquest
of that portion of Scotland now held by Wallace; and as the English
forces in the various garrisons were insufficient for such purpose,
the Earl of Percy and the other leaders proposed a truce. This
was agreed to. Although Wallace was at the head of a considerable
force, Sir William Douglas was the only one among the Scottish
nobles of importance who had joined him; and although the successes
which he had gained were considerable, but little had been really
done towards freeing Scotland, all of whose strong places were
still in the hands of the English, and King Edward had not as yet
really put out his strength.

The greater portion of the army of Wallace was now dispersed.

Shortly afterwards the governor of Ayr issued a notice that a great
council would be held at that town, and all the Scotch gentlemen
of importance in the district were desired to attend. Wallace was
one of those invited; and deeming that the governor might have
some proposition of Edward to lay before them, he agreed to do so.
Although a truce had been arranged, he himself with a band of his
most devoted followers still remained under arms in the forest,
strictly keeping the truce, but holding communications with his friends
throughout the country, urging them to make every preparation, by
collecting arms and exercising their vassals, to take the field with
a better appointed force at the conclusion of the truce. Provisions
and money were in abundance, so large had been the captures effected;
but Wallace was so accustomed to the free life of the woods that he
preferred to remain there to taking up his abode in a town. Moreover,
here he was safe from treachery; for he felt sure that although the
English nobles and leaders would be incapable of breaking a truce,
yet that there were many of lower degree who would not hesitate at
any deed of treachery by which they might gain reward and credit
from their king. Archie's band were found of the greatest service
as messengers; and although he sometimes spent a few days at Sir
Robert Gordon's with his mother, he generally remained by the side
of Wallace. The spot where the Scottish leader was now staying lay
about halfway between Lanark and Ayr.

Archie heard with uneasiness the news of the approaching council,
and Wallace's acceptance of the invitation. The fact that the Earl
of Percy, a very noble knight and gentleman, had been but lately
recalled from the governorship of Ayr and had been replaced by
one of somewhat low degree, Arlouf of Southampton, still further
increased his doubts. It seemed strange that the governorship of so
important a town--a post deemed fitting for Earl Percy--should
be bestowed on such a man, were it not that one was desired who
would not hesitate to perform an action from which any honourable
English gentleman would shrink.

Two days before the day fixed for the council he called Cluny
Campbell and another lad named Jock Farrel to him.

"I have a most important mission for you," he said. "You have heard
of the coming council at Ayr. I wish to find out if any evil is
intended by the governor. For this purpose you two will proceed
thither. You Cluny will put on the garments which you brought with
you; while you Jock had best go as his brother. Here is money. On
your way procure baskets and buy chickens and eggs, and take them
in with you to sell.  Go hither and thither among the soldiers
and hear what they say. Gather whether among the townspeople there
is any thought that foul play may be intended by the English. Two
of the band will accompany you to within a mile of Ayr, and will
remain there in order that you may from time to time send news by
them of aught that you have gathered. Remember that the safety of
Wallace, and with it the future of Scotland, may depend upon your
care and vigilance. I would myself have undertaken the task; but
the Kerrs are now, I hear, in Ayr, and a chance meeting might ruin
all; for whatever the truce between English and Scotch, they would
assuredly keep no truce with me did they meet me. Mind, it is a
great honour that I have done you in choosing you, and is a proof
that I regard you as two of the shrewdest of my band, although the
youngest among them."

Greatly impressed with the importance of their mission, the lads
promised to use their utmost vigilance to discover the intentions
of the governor; and a few minutes later, Cluny being attired in
his sister's clothes, and looking, as Archie laughingly said, "a
better looking girl than she was herself," they started for Ayr,
accompanied by two of their companions. They were to remain there
until the conclusion of the council, but their companions would be
relieved every six hours. Upon their way they procured two baskets,
which they filled with eggs and chickens; and then, leaving their
comrades a mile outside Ayr, fearlessly entered the town.

The council was to take place in a large wooden building some short
distance outside the town, which was principally chosen because it
was thought by the governor that the Scotch gentlemen would have
less reluctance to meet him there than if they were asked to enter
a city with a strong garrison of English.

The first day the lads succeeded in finding out nothing which could
give any countenance to suspicion that treachery was intended. They
had agreed to work separately, and each mingled among the groups
of citizens and soldiers, where the council was the general topic
of conversation.  There was much wonder and speculation as to the
object for which the governor had summoned it, and as to the terms
which he might be expected to propound, but to none did the idea
of treachery or foul play in any way occur; and when at night they
left the town and sent off their message to Archie, the lads could
only say that all seemed fair and honest, and that none either of
the townspeople or soldiers appeared to have the least expectation
of trouble arising at the council.  The following morning they
agreed that Jock should hang round the building in which the council
was to be held, and where preparations for the meeting and for a
banquet which was afterwards to take place were being made, while
Cluny should continue his inquiries within the walls. Jock hid away
his basket and joined those looking on at the preparations. Green
boughs were being carried in for decorating the walls, tables, and
benches for the banquet. These were brought from the town in country
carts, and a party of soldiers under the command of an officer
carried them in and arranged them. Several of the rustics looking
on gave their aid in carrying in the tables, in order that they
might take home to their wives an account of the appearance of the
place where the grand council was to be held. Jock thrust himself
forward, and seizing a bundle of green boughs, entered the barn.
Certainly there was nothing here to justify any suspicions. The
soldiers were laughing and joking as they made the arrangements;
clean rushes lay piled against a wall in readiness to strew over
the floor at the last moment; boughs had been nailed against the
walls, and the tables and benches were sufficient to accommodate
a considerable number.  Several times Jock passed in and out, but
still without gathering a word to excite his suspicions. Presently
Arlouf himself, a powerful man with a forbidding countenance, rode
up and entered the barn. He approached the officer in command of
the preparations; and Jock, pretending to be busy in carrying his
boughs, managed to keep near so as to catch something of their
conversation.

"Is everything prepared, Harris?"

"Yes, sir; another half hour's work will complete everything."

"Do you think that is strong enough?" the governor asked.

"Ay; strong enough for half a dozen of these half starved Scots."

"One at a time will do," the governor said; and then, after a few
more words, left the barn and rode off to Ayr.

Jock puzzled his head in vain over the meaning of the words he had
heard. The governor had while speaking been facing the door; but
to what he alluded, or what it was that the officer had declared
strong enough to hold half a dozen Scots, Jock could not in the
slightest degree make out. Still the words were strange and might
be important; and he resolved, directly the preparations were
finished and the place closed, so that there could be no chance of
his learning more, to return himself to Archie instead of sending
a message, as much might depend upon his repeating, word for word,
what he had heard, as there was somehow, he felt, a significance in
the manner in which the question had been asked and answered more
than in the words themselves.

Cluny had all day endeavoured in vain to gather any news. He had
the day before sold some of his eggs and chickens at the governor's
house, and towards evening he determined again to go thither and
to make an attempt to enter the house, where he had heard that the
officers of the garrison were to be entertained that evening at a
banquet. "If I could but overhear what is said there, my mind would
be at rest. Certainly nothing is known to the soldiers; but it may
well be that if treachery is intended tomorrow, the governor will
this evening explain his plans to his officers."

He had, before entering the town, again filled up his basket with
the unsold portion of Jock's stock, for which the latter had no
further occasion. The cook at the governor's, when he had purchased
the eggs on the previous day, had bade him call again, as Cluny's
prices were considerably below those in the market. It was late
in the afternoon when he again approached the house. The sentry at
the gate asked no question, seeing a girl with a basket, and Cluny
went round again to the door of the kitchen.

"How late you are, girl!" the cook said angrily. "You told me you
would come again today, and I relied upon you, and when you did
not come it was too late, for the market was closed."

"I was detained, sir," Cluny said, dropping a curtsey; "my mother
is ill, and I had to look after the children and get the dinner
before they went away."

"There, don't waste time talking," the cook said, snatching the
basket from him. "I have no time to count the eggs now; let me know
the tale of them and the chickens at the same price as you charged
yesterday, and come for your money tomorrow; I have no time to pay
now. Here," he called to one of the scullions, "take out these eggs
and chickens quickly, but don't break any, and give the basket to
the girl here."

So saying he hurried off to attend to his cooking.

Cluny looked round. But three paces away a half open door led into
the interior of the house. His resolution was taken in a moment.
Seeing that none were looking at him he stole through the door,
his bare feet falling noiselessly on the stones. He was now in
a spacious hall. On one side was an open door, and within was a
large room with tables spread for a banquet. Cluny entered at once
and looked round for a place of concealment; none was to be seen.
Tablecloths in those days were almost unknown luxuries. The tables
were supported by trestles, and were so narrow that there was
no possibility of hiding beneath them; nor were there hangings or
other furniture behind which he could be concealed. With a beating
heart he turned the handle of a door leading into another apartment,
and found himself in a long and narrow room, used apparently as
the private office of the governor.  There were many heavy chairs
in the room, ranged along the wall, and Cluny crouched in a corner
by the window beside a chair standing there. The concealment was a
poor one, and one searching would instantly detect him; but he had
no fear of a search, for he doubted not that the cook, on missing
him, would suppose that he had left at once, intending to call
for his money and basket together the next morning. It was already
growing dusk, and should no one enter the room for another half
hour he would be hidden in the shadow in the corner of the room;
but it was more probable still that no one would enter.

The time passed slowly on, and the darkness rapidly increased. Through
the door, which Cluny had drawn to but had not tightly closed on
entering, he could hear the voices of the servants as they moved
about and completed the preparations in the banquet hall. Presently
all was quiet, but a faint light gleaming in through the crack
of the door showed that the lights were lit and that all was in
readiness for the banquet. Half an hour later and there was a heavy
trampling of feet and the sound of many voices. The door was suddenly
closed, and Cluny had no doubt that the dinner was beginning. Rising
to his feet he made to the door and listened attentively.

A confused din met his ears, but no distinct words were audible.
He could occasionally faintly hear the clattering of plates and
the clinking of glasses. All this continued for nigh two hours, and
then a sudden quiet seemed to fall upon the assembly. Cluny heard
the door close, and guessed that the banquet was at an end and the
servitors dismissed. Now, if ever, would something of importance
be said within, and Cluny would have given his life to be able to
hear it. Many times he thought of turning the handle and opening
the door an inch or two. Locks in those days were but roughly made;
the slightest sound might attract attention, and in that case not
only would his own life be forfeited, but no news of the governor's
intentions--no matter what they might be--could reach Wallace;
so, almost holding his breath, he lay on the ground and listened
with his ear to the sill of the door. The silence was succeeded by
a steady monotonous sound as of one addressing the others. Cluny
groaned in spirit, for no word could he hear. After some minutes
the murmur ceased, and then many voices were raised together; then
one rose above the rest, and then, distinct and clear, came a voice
evidently raised in anger.

"As you please, Master Hawkins; but if you disobey my orders,
as King Edward's governor here, you will take the consequences. I
shall at once place you in durance, and shall send report to the
king of your mutinous conduct."

"Be that as it may," another voice replied; "whatever befall me, I
tell you, sir, that Thomas Hawkins will take no part in an act of
such foul and dastardly treachery. I am a soldier of King Edward.
I am paid to draw my sword against his enemies, and not to do the
bloody work of a murderer."

"Seize him!" the governor shouted. "Give him in charge to the guard,
to lay in the castle dungeon."

There was a movement of feet now heard, but Cluny waited no
longer. The angry utterances had reached his ear, and knowing that
his mission was accomplished he thought only now of escape before
detection might take place. He had noticed when he entered the room
that the windows were, as was usually the case with rooms on the
lower floors, barred; but he saw also that the bars were wide enough
apart for a lad of his slimness to crawl through. The banqueting
room was raised three steps above the hall, and the room that he
was in was upon the same level; the window was four feet from the
floor, and would therefore be probably seven or eight above the
ground without, which would account for its not being more closely
barred. He speedily climbed up to it and thrust himself through the
bars, but not without immense difficulty and great destruction to
his feminine garments.

"Poor Janet!" Cluny laughed to himself as he dropped from the
window to the ground. "Whatever would she say were she to see the
state of her kirtle and petticoats!"

The moon was young, but the light was sufficient to enable Cluny
to see where he was. The window opened into a lane which ran down
by the side of the governor's house, and he was soon in the principal
street. Already most of the citizens were within their houses. A
few, provided with lanterns, were picking their way along the uneven
pavement.  Cluny knew that it was impossible for him to leave the
town that night; he would have given anything for a rope by which
he might lower himself from the walls, but there was no possibility
of his obtaining one. The appearance of a young girl wandering in
the streets alone at night would at once have attracted attention
and remarks. So Cluny withdrew into a dark archway, and then sat
down until the general silence told him that all had retired to
rest. Then he made his way along the street until he neared the
gateway, and there lying down by the wall he went to sleep.

When the gate was opened in the morning Cluny waited until a few
persons had passed in and out and then approached it.  "Hallo! lass,"
the sergeant of the guard, who was standing there, said. "You are
a pretty figure with your torn clothes!  Why, what has happened to
you?"

"If you please, sir," Cluny said timidly, "I was selling my eggs
to the governor's cook, and he kept me waiting, and I did not know
that it was so late, and when I got to the gates they were shut,
and I had nowhere to go; and then, please sir, as I was wandering
about a rough soldier seized me and wanted to kiss me, and of
course I would not let him, and in the struggle he tore my clothes
dreadfully; and some burghers, who heard me scream, came up and the
man left me, and one of the burghers let me sleep in his kitchen,
and I don't know what mother will say to my clothes;" and Cluny
lifted the hem of his petticoat to his eyes.

"It is a shame, lass," the sergeant said good temperedly; "an I
had been there I would have broke the fellow's sconce for him; but
another time, lass, you should not overstay the hour; it is not good
for young girls to be roaming at night in a town full of soldiers.
There, I hope your mother won't beat you, for, after all, it was
the fault of the governor's cook rather than yours."

Cluny pursued his way with a quiet and depressed mien until he was
fairly out of sight of the gates. Then he lifted his petticoats to
a height which would have shocked his sister Janet, to give free
play to his limbs, and at the top of his speed dashed down the road
toward Lanark. He found his two companions waiting at the appointed
spot, but he did not pause a moment.

"Are you mad, Cluny?" they shouted.

And indeed the wild figure, with its tucked up garments, tearing
at full speed along the road, would have been deemed that of a mad
girl by any who had met it.

"Come on!" he shouted. "Come on, it is for life or death!" and
without further word he kept on at full speed.  It was some time
before his companions overtook him, for they were at first too
convulsed by laughter at Cluny's extraordinary appearance to be able
to run. But presently, sobered by the conviction that something of
extreme importance must have happened, they too started at their
best speed, and presently came up with Cluny, upon whose pace the
mile he had already run told heavily.

"For the sake of goodness, Cluny, go slower," one of them panted
out as they came to him. "We have nine miles yet to run, and if we
go on like this we shall break down in another half mile, and have
to walk the rest."

Cluny himself, with all his anxiety to get on, was beginning to
feel the same, and he slackened his pace to a slinging trot, which
in little over an hour brought them to the wood.




Chapter VI

The Barns of Ayr


Archie was anxiously awaiting the arrival of his messenger, for the
three lads were met two miles out by another who had been placed on
watch, and had come on ahead at full speed with the news of their
approach.  The report brought in by Jock Farrell of the words that
he had overheard in the barn prepared for the meeting, had been
reported by Archie to Wallace. Sir John Grahame and the other
gentlemen with him all agreed that they were strange, and his friends
had strongly urged their leader not to proceed to the meeting.
Wallace, however, persisted in his resolution to do so, unless
he received stronger proofs than those afforded by the few words
dropped by the governor and his officer, which might really have
no evil meaning whatever. He could not throw doubt upon the fair
intentions of King Edward's representative, for it might well be
said that it was the grossest insult to the English to judge them
as guilty of the intention of a foul act of treachery upon such
slight foundation as this. "It would be a shame indeed," he said,
"were I, the Warden of Scotland, to shrink from appearing at
a council upon such excuse as this." The utmost that Archie could
obtain from him was that he would delay his departure in the morning
until the latest moment, in order to see if any further news came
from Ayr.

The meeting was to be held at ten o'clock, and until a little before
nine he would not set out. He was in the act of mounting his horse
when Cluny Campbell arrived.

"What are your news, Cluny?" Archie exclaimed, as the lads, panting
and exhausted, ran up.

"There is treachery intended. I overheard the governor say so."

"Come along with me," Archie exclaimed; "you are just in time,
and shall yourself tell the news. Draw your bridle, Sir William,"
he exclaimed as he ran up to the spot where Sir William Wallace,
Grahame, and several other gentlemen were in the act of mounting.
"Treachery is intended--my messenger has overheard it. I know
not his tale, but question him yourself."

Important as was the occasion, the Scottish chiefs could not resist
a smile at the wild appearance of Archie's messenger.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Wallace asked Archie, "for it might be
either."

"He is one of my band, sir. I sent him dressed in this disguise as
it would be the least suspected. Now, Cluny, tell your own story."

Cluny told his story briefly, but giving word for word the sentences
that he had heard spoken in anger by the governor and his officer.

"I fear there can be no doubt," Wallace said gravely when the
lad had finished--"that foul play of some kind is intended, and
that it would be madness to trust ourselves in the hands of this
treacherous governor.  Would that we had had the news twenty-four
hours earlier; but even now some may be saved. Sir John, will you
gallop, with all your mounted men, at full speed towards Ayr. Send
men on all the roads leading to the council, and warn any who may
not yet have arrived against entering."

Sir John Grahame instantly gave orders to all those who had horses,
to mount and follow him at the top of their speed; and he himself,
with the other gentlemen whose horses were prepared, started at
once at full gallop.

"Sir Archie, do you cause the 'assembly' to be sounded, and send
off your runners in all directions to bid every man who can be
collected to gather here this afternoon at three o clock. If foul
play has been done we can avenge, although we are too late to save,
and, by Heavens, a full and bloody revenge will I take."

It was not until two in the afternoon that Sir John Grahame returned.

"The worst has happened; I can read it in your face," Wallace
exclaimed.

"It is but too true," Sir John replied. "For a time we could obtain
no information. One of my men rode forward until close to the Barns,
and reported that all seemed quiet there. A guard of soldiers were
standing round the gates, and he saw one of those invited, who had
arrived a minute before him, dismount and enter quietly. Fortunately
I was in time to stop many gentlemen who were proceeding to the
council, but more had entered before I reached there. From time
to time I sent forward men on foot who talked with those who were
standing without to watch the arrivals. Presently a terrible rumour
began to spread among them--whether the truth was known from some
coarse jest by one of the soldiers, or how it came out, I know not.
But as time went on, and the hour was long past when any fresh
arrivals could be expected, there was no longer motive for secrecy,
and the truth was openly told. Each man as he entered was stopped
just inside the door. A noose was dropped over his neck, and he
was hauled up to a hook over the door. All who entered are dead."

A cry of indignation and rage broke from Wallace and those standing
round him, and the Scottish leader again repeated his oath to take
a bloody vengeance for the deed.

"And who are among the murdered?" he asked, after a pause.

"Alas! Sir William," Grahame said, "your good uncle, Sir Ronald
Crawford, the Sheriff of Ayr, is one; and also Sir Richard Wallace
of Riccartoun; Sir Bryce Blair, and Sir Neil Montgomery, Boyd,
Barclay, Steuart, Kennedy, and many others."

Wallace was overwhelmed with grief at the news that both his uncles,
to whom he was greatly attached, had perished. Most of those around
had also lost relatives and friends, and none could contain their
grief and indignation.

"Was my uncle, Sir Robert Gordon, among the victims?" Archie
inquired.

"No," Sir John replied; "happily he was one of the last who came
along the road."

"Thank God for that!" Archie said earnestly; "my uncle's slowness
has saved his life. He was ever late for business or pleasure, and
my aunt was always rating him for his unpunctuality. She will not
do so again, for assuredly it has saved his life."

The men came in but slowly, for the bands had all dispersed to
their homes, and it was only those who lived within a few miles
who could arrive in time. Little over fifty men had come in by the
hour named. With these Wallace started at once towards Ayr. Archie's
band fell in with their arms, for they too burned to revenge the
massacre, and Wallace did not refuse Archie's request that they
might join.

"Let them come," he said; "we shall want every sword and pike
tonight."

This was the first time that Wallace had seen the band under arms,
for at the battle of Biggar, Archie had kept them from his sight,
fearing that he might order them from the field.

"They look well, Sir Archie, and in good military order.  Hitherto
I have regarded them but as messengers, and as such they have done
good service indeed; but I see now that you have them in good order,
and that they can do other service on a pinch."

One member of Wallace's band was left behind, with orders to wait
until seven o'clock, and then to bring on as fast as they could
march all who might arrive before that hour. The band marched to
within a mile of the barns. They then halted at a stack of straw,
and sat down while one of Archie's band went forward to see what was
being done. He reported that a great feast, at which the governor
and all the officers of the garrison, with other English dwelling
in town, were present, was just beginning in the great barn where
the massacre had taken place.

Soon after nine o'clock the man who had been left behind, with ten
others, who had come in after Wallace had marched, came up. Each
man, by Wallace's directions, drew a great truss of straw from the
stack, and then the party, now eighty in all, marched toward the
barn. Wallace's instructions were that so soon as the work had
fairly begun, Grahame, with Archie and half the band, was to hurry
off to seize the gate of Ayr, feigning to be a portion of the guard
at the barn.

When they approached the spot they saw that the wooden building was
brightly lit up with lights within, and the English guard, some
fifty in number, were standing carelessly without, or, seated
round fires, were carousing on wine which had been sent out by the
revellers within.

The Scotch stole up quietly. Wallace's party, composed of half the
strength, handed their bundles of straw to the men of Grahame's
company; then with a sudden shout they fell upon the English
soldiers, while Grahame's men, running straight to the door of the
barn, threw down their trusses of straw against it, and Sir John,
snatching down a torch which burned beside the entrance, applied
fire to the mass, and then, without a moment's delay, started at a
run towards the town. Taken wholly by surprise the English soldiers
were slain by Wallace and his men almost before they had time
to seize their arms. Then the Scots gathered round the barn.  The
flames were already leaping up high, and a terrible din of shouts
and cries issued from within. The doors had been opened now, but
those within were unable to force their way across the blazing mass
of straw. Many appeared at the windows and screamed for mercy, and
some leapt out, preferring to fall by the Scottish swords rather
than to await death by fire within.

The flames rose higher and higher, and soon the whole building
was enveloped, and ere many minutes all those who had carried out,
if not planned, the massacre of Ayr had perished. In the meantime
Grahame and his party had reached the gate of Ayr. Bidding others
follow him at a distance of about a hundred yards, he himself, with
Archie and ten of his followers, ran up at full speed.

"Quick!" he shouted to the sentry on the gate. "Lower the bridge
and let us in. We have been attacked by Wallace and the Scots, and
they will speedily be here."

The attention of the guard had already been attracted by the sudden
burst of light by the barns. They had heard distant shouts, and
deemed that a conflagration had broken out in the banqueting hall.
Not doubting for an instant the truth of Grahame's story, they
lowered the drawbridge instantly, and Sir John and his companions
rushed across.

The guard were only undeceived when Grahame and his followers fell
upon them with their heavy broadswords.  They had left their arms
behind when they had assembled on the walls to look at the distant
flames, and were cut down to a man by the Scots. By this time the
rest of Grahame's band had arrived.

So short and speedy had been the struggle that no alarm had been
given in the town. The inmates of a few houses near opened their
windows and looked out.

"Come down as quickly as you may," Sir John said to them; "we have
taken Ayr."

Several of the burghers were soon in the street.

"Now," Sir John said, "do two of you who know the town well go
with me and point out the houses in which the English troops are
quartered; let the others go from house to house, and bid every
man come quickly with his sword to strike a blow for freedom."

Sir John now went round the town with the guides and posted two or
more men at the door of each house occupied by the English. Soon
the armed citizens flocked into the streets, and when sufficient
were assembled the blowing of a horn gave the signal. The doors of
the houses were beaten in with axes, and, pouring in, the Scotch
slew the soldiers before they had scarce awakened from sleep. Very
few of the English in the town escaped to tell of the terrible
retaliation which had been taken for the massacre of Ayr.

One of the few who were saved was Captain Thomas Hawkins. Archie,
mindful of the part which he had taken, and to which, indeed, the
discovery of the governor's intention was due, had hurried direct to
the prison, and when this was, with the rest of the town, taken,
discovered the English officer in chains in a dungeon, and protected
him from all molestation.

The next morning he was brought before Wallace, who expressed to
him his admiration of the honourable course which he had adopted,
gave him a rich present out of the booty which had been captured,
and placed him on a ship bound for England.

A week after the capture of Ayr one of Archie's band came into his
hut. Tears were running down his cheeks, and his face was swollen
with weeping.

"What is it, Jock?" Archie asked kindly.

"Ah! Sir Archie! we have bad news from Glen Cairn.  One has come
hither who says that a few days since the Kerrs, with a following
of their own retainers, came down to the village. Having heard
that some of us had followed you to the wars, they took a list of
all that were missing, and Sir John called our fathers up before
him. They all swore, truly enough, that they knew nought of our
intentions, and that we had left without saying a word to them.
Sir John refused to believe them, and at first threatened to hang
them all.  Then after a time he said they might draw lots, and
that two should die. My father and Allan Cunninghame drew the evil
numbers, and Kerr hung them up to the old tree on the green and put
fire to the rooftrees of all the others. Ah! but there is weeping
and wailing in Glen Cairn!"

Archie was for a while speechless with indignation. He knew well
that this wholesale vengeance had not been taken by the Kerrs because
the sons of the cottagers of Glen Cairn had gone to join the army
of Wallace, but because he deemed them to be still attached to their
old lord; and it was to their fidelity to the Forbeses rather than
to Scotland that they owed the ruin which had befallen them.

"My poor Jock!" he said, "I am grieved, indeed, at this misfortune.
I cannot restore your father's life, but I can from the spoils of
Ayr send a sufficient sum to Glen Cairn to rebuild the cottages
which the Kerrs have destroyed. But this will not be enough--we
will have vengeance for the foul deed. Order the band to assemble
at dusk this evening, and tell Orr and Macpherson to come here to
me at once."

Archie had a long consultation with his two young lieutenants,
whose fathers' cottages had with the others been destroyed.

"What we have to do," Archie said, "we must do alone.  Sir William
has ample employment for his men, and I cannot ask him to weaken
his force to aid me in a private broil; nor, indeed, would any aid
short of his whole band be of use, seeing that the Kerrs can put
three hundred retainers in the field. It is not by open force that
we must fight them, but by fire and harassment. Fighting is out
of the question; but we can do him some damage without giving him
a chance of striking a blow at us. As he has lighted Glen Cairn,
so shall he see fires blazing round his own castle of Aberfilly.
We will not retaliate by hanging his crofters and vassals; but if
he or any of his men-at-arms falls into our hands, we will have
blood for blood."

In the course of the afternoon Archie saw his chief and begged
leave to take his troop away for some time, telling Sir William of
the cruel treatment which the Kerrs had dealt at Glen Cairn, and
his determination to retaliate for the deed.

"Aberfilly is a strong castle, Archie," Wallace said; "at least so
people say, for I have never seen it, so far does it lie removed
from the main roads. But unless by stratagem, I doubt if my force
is strong enough to capture it; nor would I attack were I sure of
capturing it without the loss of a man.  The nobles and landowners
stand aloof from me; but it may be that after I have wrested some
more strong places from the English, they may join me. But I would
not on any account war against one of them now. Half the great
families are united by ties of blood or marriage. The Kerrs, we
know, are related to the Comyns and other powerful families; and
did I lift a hand against them, adieu to my chance of being joined
by the great nobles. No; openly hostile as many of them are, I must
let them go their way, and confine my efforts to attacking their
friends the English. Then they will have no excuse of personal
feud for taking side against the cause of Scotland. But this does
not apply to you. Everyone knows that there has long been a blood
feud between the Forbeses and the Kerrs, and any damage you may
do them will be counted as a private feud. I think it is a rash
adventure that you are undertaking with but a handful of boys,
although it is true that a boy can fire a roof or drive off a
bullock as well as a man. However, this I will promise you, that
if you should get into any scrape I will come with what speed I
can to your rescue, even if it embroil me with half the nobles of
Scotland. You embroiled yourself with all the power of England in
my behalf, and you will not find me slack in the hour of need. But
if I join in the fray it is to rescue my friend Archie Forbes, and
not to war against John Kerr, the ally of the English, and my own
enemy."

Archie warmly thanked his leader, but assured him that he had no
thought of placing himself in any great peril.

"I am not going to fight," he said, "for the Kerr and his retainers
could eat us up; we shall trust to our legs and our knowledge of
the mountains."

After dark Archie and his band started, and arrived within ten miles
of Aberfilly on the following morning.  They rested till noon, and
then again set out. When they approached one of the outlying farms
of the Kerrs, Archie halted his band, and, accompanied by four of
the stoutest and tallest of their number, went on to the crofter's
house. The man came to the door.

"What would you, young sir?" he said to Archie.

"I would," Archie said, "that you bear a message from me to your
lord."

"I know not what your message may be; but frankly, I would rather
that you bore it yourself, especially if it be of a nature to anger
Sir John."

"The message is this," Archie said quietly: "tell him that Archibald
Forbes bids him defiance, and that he will retort upon him and his
the cruelties which he has wrought in Glen Cairn, and that he will
rest not night nor day until he has revenge for the innocent blood
shed and rooftrees ruthlessly burned."

"Then," the crofter said bluntly, "if you be Archibald Forbes, you
may even take your message yourself. Sir John cares not much upon
whose head his wrath lights, and I care not to appear before him
as a willing messenger on such an errand."

"You may tell him," Archie said quietly, "that you are no willing
messenger; for that I told you that unless you did my errand your
house should, before morning, be a heap of smoking ashes. I have
a following hard by, and will keep my word."

The crofter hesitated.

"Do my bidding; and I promise you that whatever may befall the
other vassals of the Kerrs, you shall go free and unharmed."

"Well, if needs must, it must," the crofter said; "and I will
do your bidding, young sir--partly because I care not to see my
house in ruins, but more because I have heard of you as a valiant
youth who fought stoutly by the side of Wallace at Lanark and
Ayr--though, seeing that you are but a lad, I marvel much that you
should be able to hold your own in such wild company. Although
as a vassal of the Kerrs I must needs follow their banner, I need
not tell you, since you have lived so long at Glen Cairn, that the
Kerrs are feared rather than loved, and that there is many a man
among us who would lief that our lord fought not by the side of the
English. However, we must needs dance as he plays; and now I will
put on my bonnet and do your errand. Sir John can hardly blame me
greatly for doing what I needs must."

Great was the wrath of Sir John Kerr when his vassal reported to
him the message with which he had been charged, and in his savage
fury he was with difficulty dissuaded from ordering him to be hung
for bringing such a message. His principal retainers ventured,
however, to point out that the man had acted upon compulsion, and
that the present was not the time, when he might at any moment
have to call upon them to take the field, to anger his vassals, who
would assuredly resent the undeserved death of one of their number.

"It is past all bearing," the knight said furiously, "that an insolent
boy like this should first wound me in the streets of Lanark, and
should then cast his defiance in my teeth--a landless rascal,
whose father I killed, and whose den of a castle I but a month ago
gave to the flames. He must be mad to dare to set his power against
mine. I was a fool that I did not stamp him out long ago; but woe
betide him when we next meet!  Had it not been that I was served
by a fool"--and here the angry knight turned to his henchman, Red
Roy--"this would not have happened. Who could have thought that
a man of your years could have suffered himself to be fooled by a
boy, and to bring me tales that this insolent upstart was a poor
stupid lout! By Heavens! to be thus badly served is enough to make
one mad!"

"Well, Sir John," the man grumbled, "the best man will be sometimes
in error. I have done good service for you and yours, and yet ever
since we met this boy outside the gates of Lanark you have never
ceased to twit me concerning him.  Rest secure that no such error
shall occur again, and that the next time I meet him I will pay him
alike for the wound he gave you and for the anger he has brought
upon my head. If you will give orders I will start at daybreak
with twenty men.  I will take up his trail at the cottage of John
Frazer, and will not give up the search until I have overtaken and
slain him."

"Do so," the knight replied, "and I will forgive your having
been so easily fooled. But this fellow may have some of Wallace's
followers with him, and contemptible as the rabble are, we had best
be on our guard.  Send round to all my vassals, and tell them to
keep good watch and ward, and keep a party of retainers under arms
all night in readiness to sally out in case of alarm."

The night, however, passed quietly. The next day the knight sallied
out with a strong party of retainers, and searched the woods and
lower slopes of the hill, but could find no signs of Archie and
his followers, and at nightfall returned to the castle in a rage,
declaring that the defiance sent him was a mere piece of insolent
bravado. Nevertheless, he kept the horses again saddled all night
ready to issue out at the slightest alarm.  Soon after midnight
flames suddenly burst out at a dozen of the homesteads. At the
warder's shout of alarm Sir John Kerr and his men-at-arms instantly
mounted. The gate was thrown open and the drawbridge lowered, and
Sir John rode out at the head of his following.  He was within a
few feet of the outer end of the drawbridge when the chains which
supported this suddenly snapped. The drawbridge fell into the moat,
plunging all those upon it into the water.

Archie, with his band, after detaching some of their number to fire
the homesteads, had crept up unperceived in the darkness to the
end of the drawbridge, and had noiselessly cut the two projecting
beams upon which its end rested when it was lowered. He had intended
to carry out this plan on the previous night, but when darkness set
in not a breath of wind was stirring, and the night was so still
that he deemed that the operation of sawing through the beams could
not be effected without attracting the attention of the warders
on the wall, and had therefore retreated far up in the recesses of
the hills. The next night, however, was windy, and well suited to
his purpose, and the work had been carried out without attracting
the attention of the warders. When Kerr and his men-at-arms rode
out, the whole weight of the drawbridge and of the horsemen crossing
it was thrown entirely upon the chains, and these yielded to a
strain far greater than they were calculated to support.

The instant the men-at-arms were precipitated into the moat, Archie
and his companions, who had been lying down near its edge, leapt to
their feet, and opened fire with their bows and arrows upon them.
It was well for Sir John and his retainers that they had not stopped to
buckle on their defensive armour. Had they done so every man must
have been drowned in the deep waters. As it was, several were killed
with the arrows, and two or three by the hoofs of the struggling
horses. Sir John himself, with six of the eighteen men who had
fallen into the moat, succeeded in climbing up the drawbridge and
regaining the castle. A fire of arrows was at once opened from the
walls, but Archie and his followers were already out of bowshot;
and knowing that the fires would call in a few minutes to the spot
a number of the Kerr's vassals more than sufficient to crush them
without the assistance of those in the castle, they again made for
the hills, well satisfied with the first blow they had struck at
their enemies.

The rage of Sir John Kerr was beyond all expression.  He had himself
been twice struck by arrows, and the smart of his wounds added to
his fury. By the light of the burning barns the garrison were enabled
to see how small was the party which had made this audacious attack
upon them; and this increased their wrath.  Men were instantly set
at work to raise the drawbridge from the moat, to repair the chains,
and to replace the timbers upon which it rested; and a summons was
despatched to the whole of the vassals to be at the castle in arms
by daybreak.

Again the woods were searched without success, and the band then
divided into five parties, each forty strong.  They proceeded to
explore the hills; but the Pentlands afforded numerous hiding places
to those, like Archie and most of his band, well acquainted with
the country; and after searching till nightfall the parties retired,
worn out and disheartened, to the castle. That night three of the
outlying farms were in flames, and the cattle were slaughtered in
their byres, but no attack was made upon the dwelling houses.  The
following night Sir John distributed the whole of his vassals among
the farms lying farthest from the castle, putting twenty men in
each; but to his fury this time it was five homesteads nearer at
hand which were fired. The instant the first outburst of flame was
discovered the retainers hurried to the spot; but by the time they
reached it no sign of the assailants was visible; the flames had
however taken too good a hold of the various barns and outbuildings
to be extinguished.




Chapter VII

The Cave in the Pentlands


John Kerr was well nigh beside himself with fury.

If this was to go on, the whole of his estate would be harried,
his vassals ruined, and his revenues stopped, and this by a mere
handful of foes. Again he started with his vassals to explore the
hills, this time in parties of ten only, so as to explore thoroughly
a larger space of ground. When at evening the men returned, it was
found that but two men of one of the parties, composed entirely of
men-at-arms from the castle, came back.  They reported that when
in a narrow ravine showers of rocks were hurled down upon them from
both sides.  Four of their number were killed at once, and four
others had fallen pierced by arrows from an unseen foe as they fled
back down the ravine.

"Methinks, Sir John," Red Roy said, "that I know the place where
the Forbeses may have taken up their abode.  When I was a boy I
was tending a herd of goats far up in the hills, and near the pass
where this mischance has today befallen us I found a cave in the
mountain's side. Its entrance was hidden by bushes, and I should
not have found it had not one of the goats entered the bush and
remained there so long that I went to see what he was doing. There
I found a cave. The entrance was but three feet high, but inside
it widened out into a great cavern, where fifty men could shelter.
Perchance Archie Forbes or some of his band may also have discovered
it; and if so, they might well think that no better place of
concealment could be found."

"We will search it tomorrow," the knight said. "Tell the vassals
to gather here three hours before daybreak.  We will start so as
to be there soon after sunrise. If they are on foot again tonight
they will then be asleep.  Did you follow the cave and discover
whether it had any other entrances beyond that by which you entered?"

"I know not," the henchman replied; "it goes a long way into the
hills, and there are several inner passages; but these I did not
explore, for I was alone and feared being lost in them."

The next night some more homesteads were burnt, but this time the
vassals did not turn out, as they had been told to rest until the
appointed hour whatever might befall.

Three hours before daybreak a party of fifty picked men assembled
at the castle, for this force was deemed to be ample.  The two men
who had escaped from the attack on the previous day led the way
to the ravine, and there Red Roy became the guide and led the band
far up the hillside. Had it been possible they would have surrounded
the cave before daylight, but Roy said that it was so long since
he had first found the cave, that he could not lead them there
in the dark, but would need daylight to enable him to recognize
the surroundings. Even when daylight came he was for some time at
fault, but he at last pointed to a clump of bushes, growing on a
broken and precipitous face of rock, as the place where the cave
was situated.

Red Roy was right in his conjecture. Archie had once, when wandering
among the hills, shot at a wild cat and wounded it, and had followed
it to the cave to which it had fled, and seeing it an advantageous
place of concealment had, when he determined to harry the district
of the Kerrs, fixed upon it as the hiding place for his band. Deeming
it possible, however, that its existence might be known to others,
he always placed a sentry on watch; and on the approach of the Kerrs,
Cluny Campbell, who happened to be on guard, ran in and roused the
band with the news that the Kerrs were below. Archie immediately
crept out and reconnoitred them; from the bushes he could see that
his foes were for the present at fault. Sir John himself was standing
apart from the rest, with Red Roy, who was narrowly scrutinizing
the face of the cliff, and Archie guessed at once that they were
aware of the existence of the cavern, though at present they could
not determine the exact spot where it was situated. It was too late
to retreat now, for the face of the hill was too steep to climb
to its crest, and their retreat below was cut off by the Kerrs. He
therefore returned to the cave, leaving Cluny on guard.

"They are not sure as to the situation of the cave yet," he said,
"but they will find it. We can hold the mouth against them for any
time, but they might smoke us out, that is our real danger; or if
they fail in that, they may try starvation.  Do half a dozen of you
take brands at once from the embers and explore all the windings
behind us; they are so narrow and low that hitherto we have not
deemed it worth while to examine them, but now they are really our
only hope; some of them may lead round to the face of the hill,
and in that case we may find some way by which we may circumvent
the Kerrs."

Six of the lads at once started with flaming pine knots, while
Archie returned to the entrance. Just as he took his place there
he saw Red Roy pointing towards the bushes. A minute or two later
Sir John and his followers began to advance. Archie now called out
the rest of his band, who silently took their places in the bushes
beside him. Led by Sir John and his personal retainers, the assailants
approached the foot of the rocks and began to make their way up,
using the utmost precaution to avoid any noise. There was no longer
any need for concealment, and as the foremost of the assailants
began to climb the great boulders at the foot of the precipice,
a dozen arrows from the bush above alighted among them; killing
three and wounding several others. Sir John Kerr shouted to his
men to follow him, and began to clamber up the hill. Several arrows
struck him, but he was sheathed in mail, as were his men-at-arms,
and although several were wounded in the face and two slain they
succeeded in reaching the bushes, but they could not penetrate
further, for as they strove to tear the bushes aside and force an
entry, those behind pierced them with their spears, and as but four
or five assailants at a time could gain a footing and use their
arms they were outnumbered and finally driven back by the defenders.
When Sir John, furious at his discomfiture, rejoined his vassals
below, he found that the assault had already cost him eight of his
best men. He would, however, have again led them to the attack,
but Red Roy said:

"It were best, my lord, to send back and bid fifty of the vassals
to come up hither at once, with bows and arrows.  They can so riddle
those bushes that the defenders will be unable to occupy them to
resist our advance."

"That were a good step," Sir John said; "but even when we gain
the ledge I know not how we shall force our way through the hole,
which you say is but three feet high."

"There is no need to force our way in," Red Roy replied; "each
man who climbs shall carry with him a faggot of wood, and we will
smoke them in their holes like wolves."

"'Tis well thought of, Roy; that assuredly is the best plan.  Send
off at once one of the most fleet footed of the party."

Archie, watching from above, saw the assailants draw back out of
bowshot, and while one of their number started at full speed down
the hillside, the others sat down, evidently prepared to pass some
time before they renewed the attack.  Leaving two of the party on
guard, Archie, with the rest, re-entered the cavern.  The searchers
had just returned and reported that all the various passages came
to nothing, save one, which ascended rapidly and terminated in a
hole which looked as if it had been made by rabbits, and through
which the light of day could be seen.

"Then it is there we must work," Archie said. "I will myself go
and examine it."

The passage, after ascending to a point which Archie judged to
be nigh a hundred feet above the floor of the cave, narrowed to a
mere hole, but two feet high and as much wide. Up this he crawled
for a distance of four or five yards, then it narrowed suddenly
to a hole three or four inches in diameter, and through this, some
three feet farther, Archie could see the daylight through a clump
of heather. He backed himself down the narrow passage again until
he joined his comrades. "Now," he said, "do four of you stay here,
and take it by turns, one after the other, to enlarge the hole
forward to the entrance. As you scrape the earth down you must past
it back handful by handful. Do not enlarge the outer entrance or
disturb the roots of the heather growing there. Any movement might
be noticed by those below. It is lucky, indeed, that the rock ends
just when it gets to its narrowest, and that it is but sandy soil
through which we have to scrape our way.  It will be hard work,
for you have scarce room to move your arms, but you have plenty of
time since we cannot sally out till nightfall."

The hours passed slowly, and about noon the lookout reported that
a number of bowmen were approaching.

"They are going to attack this time under cover of their fire,"
Archie said, "and as I do not wish to hazard the loss of any lives,
we will keep within the cave and let them gain the ledge. They can
never force their way through the narrow entrance. The only thing
I fear is smoke. I purpose that if they light a fire at the mouth
of the cave, we shall retire at once up the passage where we are
working, and block it up at a narrow place a short distance after
it leaves this cavern, with our clothes. You had best take off some
of your things, scrape up the earth from the floor of the cavern,
and each make a stout bundle, so that we can fill up the hole
solidly."

This was soon done, and the bundles of earth were laid in readiness
at the point upon which their leader had fixed.  In the meantime
Archie had rejoined the lookout.

"They have been scattered for some time," the guard said, "and have
been cutting down bushes and making them into faggots."

"Just what I expected," Archie exclaimed. "The bowmen are joining
them now. We shall soon see them at work."

Sir John Kerr now marshalled his retainers. He and his men-at-arms
drew their swords, and the rest, putting the bundles of faggots on
their shoulders, prepared to follow, while the bowmen fitted their
arrows to the string.

"Fall back inside the cave," Archie said; "it is of no use risking
our lives."

The band now gathered in a half circle, with level spears, round
the entrance. Soon they heard a sharp tapping sound as the arrows
struck upon the rock, then there was a crashing among the bushes.

"Come on!" Sir John Kerr shouted to the vassals. "The foxes have
slunk into their hole." Then came low thuds as the faggots were
cast down. The light which had streamed in through the entrance
gradually became obscure, and the voices of those without muffled.
The darkness grew more intense as the faggots were piled thicker
and thicker; then suddenly a slight odour of smoke was perceived.

"Come along now," Archie said; "they have fired the pile, and there
is no fear of their entrance."

Two of their number, with blazing pine knots, led the way. When
they reached the narrow spot all passed through, Archie and Andrew
Macpherson last; these took the bundles of earth, as the others
passed them along from behind, and built them up like a wall across
the entrance, beating them down as they piled them, so as to make
them set close and fill up every crevice. Several remained over
after the wall was completed; these were opened and the earth crammed
into the crevices between the bags. The smell of smoke had grown
strong before the wall was completed, but it was not too oppressive
to breathe. Holding the torch close to the wall, Archie and his
comrade stopped closely the few places through which they saw that
the smoke was making its way, and soon had the satisfaction of
seeing that the barrier was completely smoke tight.

There was plenty of air in the passage to support life for some
time, but Archie called back to those who were labouring to enlarge
the exit, in order to allow as much fresh air as possible to enter.
A strong guard, with spears, was placed at the barrier, although
Archie deemed that some hours at least would elapse before the Kerrs
could attempt to penetrate the cave. The fire would doubtless be
kept up for some time, and after it had expired it would be long
before the smoke cleared out sufficiently from the cave to allow
of any one entering it. After a time, finding that there was no
difficulty in breathing, although the air was certainly close and
heavy, Archie again set the lads at work widening the entrance,
going up himself to superintend the operation.  Each in turn crept
forward, loosened a portion of the earth with his knife, and then
filling his cap with it, crawled backward to the point where the
passage widened.  It was not yet dark when the work was so far done
that there now remained only a slight thickness of earth, through
which the roots of the heath protruded, at the mouth of the passage,
and a vigorous push would make an exit into the air.  The guard at
the barrier had heard no movement within.  Archie withdrew one of
the bags; but the smoke streamed through so densely that he hastily
replaced it, satisfied that some hours must still elapse before
the assailants would enter the cave. They watched impatiently
the failing light through the hole, and at last, when night was
completely fallen, Archie pushed aside the earth and heather, and
looked around. They were, it seemed to him, on the side of the hill
a few yards from the point where it fell steeply away. The ground
was thickly covered with heather. He soon made his way out and
ordered Andrew Macpherson, who followed him, to remain lying at
the entrance, and to enjoin each, as he passed out, to crawl low
among the heather, so that they might not show against the skyline,
where, dark as it was, they might attract the attention of those
below. Archie himself led the way until so far back from the edge
as to be well out of sight of those in the valley. Then he gained
his feet, and was soon joined by the whole of his band.

"Now," he said, "we will make for Aberfilly; they think us all
cooped up here, and will be rejoicing in our supposed deaths. We
will strike one more blow, and then, driving before us a couple of
score of oxen for the use of the army, rejoin Wallace. Methinks we
shall have taken a fair vengeance for Kerr's doings at Glen Cairn."

The consternation of the few men left in the castle was great when,
three hours after sunset, eight homesteads burst suddenly into
flames. They dared not sally out, and remained under arms until
morning, when Sir John and his band returned more furious than ever,
as they had penetrated the cavern, discovered the barrier which
had cut off the smoke, and the hole by which the foe had escaped;
and their fury was brought to a climax when they found the damage
which had been inflicted in their absence. Many a week passed before
the garrison of Aberfilly and the vassals of the Kerrs were able
to sleep in peace, so great was the scare which Archie's raid had
inflicted upon them.

The truce was now at an end. The indignation excited by the
treachery of the English spread widely through Scotland, and the
people flocked to Wallace's standard in far greater numbers than
before, and he was now able to undertake operations on a greater
scale. Perth, Aberdeen, Brechin, and other towns fell into his
hands, and the castle of Dundee was invested. In the south Sir
William Douglas captured the castles of Sanquhar, Desdeir, and
others, and the rapid successes of the Scots induced a few of the
greater nobles to take the field, such as the Steward of Scotland,
Sir Andrew Moray of Bothwell, Sir Richard Lundin, and Wishart,
Bishop of Glasgow.

Wallace was one day lamenting to Archie and his friend Grahame
that the greater nobles still held aloof.  "Above all," he said, "I
would fain see on our side either Comyn or the young Bruce. Baliol
is a captive in London, and it is to Comyn or Bruce that Scotland
must look for her king. So long as only I, a poor knight, am at the
head of this rising, it is but a rebellion against Edward, and its
chances are still so weak that but few men, who have aught to lose,
join us; but if Bruce or Comyn should raise his banner all would
receive him as our future king. Both are lords of wide territories,
and besides the forces they could bring into the field, they would
be joined by many of the principal nobles, although it is true that
the adherents of the other would probably arm for Edward. Still
the thought of a king of their own would inflame the popular mind,
and vast numbers who now hesitate to join a movement supported by
so little authority, would then take up arms."

"Which of the two would you rather?" Archie asked.

"I would rather the Bruce," Wallace said. "His father is an inert
man and a mere cypher, and the death of his grandfather, the
competitor, has now brought him prominently forward. It is true
that he is said to be a strong adherent of England and a personal
favourite of Edward; that he spends much of his time in London; and
is even at the present moment the king's lieutenant in Carrick and
Annandale, and is waging war for him against Sir William Douglas.
Still Comyn is equally devoted to England; he is older, and less
can be hoped from him. Bruce is young; he is said to be of great
strength and skill in arms, and to be one of the foremost knights
in Edward's court. He is, I hear, of noble presence, and is much
loved by those with whom he comes in contact.  Did such a man
determine to break with Edward, and to strive to win the crown
of Scotland as a free gift of her people, instead of as a nominee
of Edward, and to rule over an independent kingdom instead of an
English province, he would attract all hearts to him, and may well
succeed where I, as I foresee, must sooner or later fail."

"But why should you fail when you have succeeded so far?" Archie
asked.

"Because I have with me but a small portion of the people of
Scotland. The whole of the northern lords hold aloof, and in the
south Carrick and Annandale and Galloway are hostile. Against me
I have all the power of England, Wales, and Ireland; and although
I may for a time win victories and capture towns I am certain,
Archie, in the end to be crushed."

"And will all our efforts have been in vain?" Archie said, with
tears in his eyes.

"By no means, my brave lad; we shall have lighted the fire of a
national resistance; we shall have shown the people that if Scotland,
divided against herself, and with all her great nobles and their
vassals standing sullenly aloof, can yet for a long time make head
against the English, assuredly when the time shall come, and she
shall rise as one man from the Solway to Caithness, her freedom
will be won. Our lives will not have been thrown away, Archie, if
they have taught this lesson."

Wallace had by this time returned from his expedition farther
north, and his force was in camp near Lanark, which town, when not
engaged in distant enterprises, was regarded as the centre of the
movement. That evening Archie said, that as his leader purposed to
give his troops rest for a week or two, he should go to his uncle's
for a short time.

"And if you can spare them, Sir William, I would fain let my band
go away for the same time. They have now been six months from home."

"Certainly," Wallace said, "they need a rest after their hard work.
They are ever afoot, and have been of immense service."

Having obtained this permission, Archie went to the spot where his
band were encamped. "I have another expedition for you," he said,
"this time all together; when that is over you will be able to go
home for a few days for a rest. They will all be glad to see you,
and may well be proud of you, and I doubt not that the spoil which
you gathered at Ayr and elsewhere will create quite a sensation at
Glen Cairn. There are some of you who are, as I remember in the old
days, good shots with the bow and arrow. Do ten of you who were
the best at home get bows and arrows from the store. Here is an
order for you to receive them, and be all in readiness to march at
daylight."

The next morning the band set out in a southwesterly direction,
and after a long day's march halted near Cumnock.  In the morning
they started at the same time, observing more caution as they went,
for by the afternoon they had crossed the stream and were within the
boundaries of Carrick. They halted for the night near Crossraguel
Abbey. Here for the first time Archie confided to his followers
the object of their march.

"We are now," he said, "within a few miles of Turnberry Castle, the
residence of Bruce. Sir William has a great desire to speak with
him; but, seeing that Bruce is at present fighting for King Edward
against Douglas, there is little chance of such a meeting coming
about with his goodwill. He has recently returned from Douglasdale.
Here, in the heart of his own country, it is like enough that he
may ride near his castle with but a few horsemen. In that case we
will seize him, without, I trust, having to do him hurt, and will
bear him with us to Lanark. We may have to wait some time before
we find an opportunity; but even if the ten days for which I have
asked, lengthen to as many weeks, Sir William will not grudge the
time we have spent if we succeed. Tomorrow morning let those who
have bows go out in the forest and see if they can shoot a deer;
or failing that, bring in a sheep or two from some of the folds.
As each of you has brought with you meal for ten days, we shall be
able to keep an eye on Turnberry for some time."

The next day Archie, with Andrew Macpherson and Cluny Campbell,
made their way through the woods until within sight of the castle,
which was but a mile distant. The strongholds of the lords of
Carrick stood on a bold promontory washed by the sea.

"It would be a hard nut to crack, Sir Archie," his lieutenant said.
"Unless by famine, the place could scarce be taken."

"No," Archie replied, "I am glad that our mission is rather to
capture the earl than his castle. It is a grand fortalice.  Would
that its owner were but a true Scotchman! This is a good place on
which we are standing, Andrew, to place a scout. Among the trees
here he can watch the road all the way from the castle to the point
where it enters the forest.  Do you, Cluny, take post here at once.
Mark well all that passes, and what is doing, and all bodies of men
who enter or leave the castle. There is no occasion to bring news
to me, for it would be unlikely that we should meet in the forest;
you have therefore only to watch. Tomorrow I shall return with the
band, and encamp in the woods farther back. Directly we arrive,
you will be relieved of your guard."

The following day the band moved up to a spot within half a mile
of the seaward edge of the forest, and a few hundred yards from the
road to Crossraguel Abbey.  It was only on this road that Archie
could hope to effect a capture; for the country near the coast was
free of trees, and no ambush could be set. The lords of Carrick
were, moreover, patrons of the abbey; and Bruce might ride over
thither with but a small party, whereas, if journeying south, or
southeast towards Douglasdale, he would probably be marching with
a strong force. For several days they watched the castle; bodies of
mounted men entered and departed. Twice parties, among whom ladies
could be seen, came out with their hawks; but none came within
reach of their lurking foes.

On the fifth morning, however, the lad on watch ran into the glade
in which they were encamped and reported that a small body of
seemingly two or three knights, with some ladies, followed by four
mounted men, had left the castle and were approaching by the route
towards the abbey.

Not a moment was lost. Archie placed six of his company, with pike
and sword, close to the road, to form across it when he gave the
order, and to bar the retreat of any party who had passed. Another
party of equal strength he placed 100 yards further on, and with
them himself took post; while he placed four, armed with bows and
arrows, on either side, near the party which he commanded. Scarcely
had his preparations been made when a trampling of horses was heard,
and the party were seen approaching. They consisted of Robert Bruce,
his brother Nigel, and three of his sisters--Isabel, Mary, and
Christina. Behind rode four men-at-arms.  From the description which
he had heard of him Archie had no doubt that the elder of the two
knights was Robert Bruce himself, and when they approached within
thirty yards he gave a shout, and, with his band, with levelled
spears, drew up across the road. At the same moment the other party
closed in behind the horsemen; and the eight archers, with bent
bows and arrows drawn to the head, rose among the trees. The party
reined in their horses suddenly.

"Hah! what have we here?" Bruce exclaimed. "An ambush--and on
all sides too!" he added as he looked round.  "What means this?
Are you robbers who thus dare attack the Bruce within a mile of
Turnberry?  Why, they are but lads," he added scornfully. "Rein
back, girls; we and the men-at-arms will soon clear a way for you
through these varlets. Nay, I can do it single handed myself."

"Halt! Sir Robert Bruce," Archie exclaimed in a loud clear voice.
"If you move I must perforce give the word, and it may well be that
some of the ladies with you may be struck with the arrows; nor,
young though my followers may be, would you find them so easy a
conquest as you imagine. They have stood up before the English ere
now; and you and your men-at-arms will find it hard work to get
through their pikes; and we outnumber you threefold. We are no
robbers. I myself am Sir Archibald Forbes."

"You!" exclaimed Robert Bruce, lowering his sword, which he
had drawn at the first alarm and held uplifted in readiness for a
charge; "you Sir Archibald Forbes! I have heard the name often as
that of one of Wallace's companions, who, with Sir John Grahame,
fought with him bravely at the captures of Lanark, Ayr, and other
places, but surely you cannot be he!"

"I am Sir Archibald Forbes, I pledge you my word," Archie said
quietly; "and, Sir Robert Bruce, methinks that if I, who am, as
you see, but yet a lad--not yet having reached my seventeenth
year--can have done good service for Scotland, how great the
shame that you, a valiant knight and a great noble, should be in
the ranks of her oppressors, and not of her champions! My name will
tell you that I have come hither for no purpose of robbery. I have
come on a mission from Wallace--not sent thereon by him, but
acting myself in consequences of words which dropped from him.  He
said how sad it was that you, who might be King of a Scotland free
and independent, by the choice of her people, should prefer the
chance of reigning, a mere puppet of Edward, over an enslaved land.
He spoke in the highest terms of your person, and held that, did
you place yourself at its head, the movement which he commands
would be a successful one. Then I determined, unknown to him, to
set out and bring you to him face to face--honourably and with
courtesy if you would, by force if you would not. I would fain it
shall be the former; but believe me, you would not find it easy to
break away through the hedge of pikes now around you."

By this time the whole party had gathered round the horsemen. Bruce
hesitated; his mind was not yet made up as to his future course.
Hitherto he had been with England, since upon Edward only his chances
seemed to depend; but latterly he had begun to doubt whether even
Edward could place him on the throne in despite of the wishes of
his countrymen. His sisters, who, taking after their mother, were
all true Scotchwomen, now urged upon him to comply with Archie's
request and accompany him to Lanark. Their hearts and wishes were
entirely with the champion of their country.

"Go with him, Robert," Isabel, the eldest, exclaimed.  "Neither
I nor my sisters fear being struck with the arrows, although such
might well be the case should a conflict begin; but, for your own
sake and Scotland's, go and see Wallace.  No harm can arise from
such a journey, and much good may come of it. Even should the
news of your having had an interview with him come to the ears of
Edward, you can truly say that you were taken thither a captive,
and that we being with you, you were unable to make an effort to
free yourself.  This young knight, of whose deeds of gallantry we
have all heard"--and she smiled approvingly at Archie--"will
doubtless give you a safeguard, on his honour, to return hither
free and unpledged when you have seen Wallace."

"Willingly, lady," Archie replied. "One hour's interview with my
honoured chief is all I ask for. That over, I pledge myself that
the Earl of Carrick shall be free at once to return hither, and
that an escort shall be provided for him to protect him from all
dangers on the way."




Chapter VIII

The Council at Stirling


Archie had been mounted on the march from the camp, and his horse
being now brought, he started with Bruce, young Nigel and the ladies
saluting him cordially.

"I trust," the former said, "that Wallace will succeed in converting
my brother. I am envious of you, Sir Archie. Here are you, many
years younger than I am, and yet you have won a name throughout
Scotland as one of her champions; while I am eating my heart out,
with my brother, at the court of Edward."

"I trust it may be so, Sir Nigel," Archie answered. "If Sir Robert
will but join our cause, heart and soul, the battle is as good as
won."

The journey passed without adventure until they arrived within two
miles of Lanark, where Archie found Wallace was now staying. On
the road Bruce had had much conversation with Archie, and learned
the details of many adventures of which before he had only heard
vaguely by report. He was much struck by the lad's modesty and
loyal patriotism.

"If ever I come to my kingdom, Sir Archie," he said, "you shall
be one of my most trusted knights and counsellors; and I am well
assured that any advice you may give will be ever what you think
to be right and for the good of the country, without self seeking
or in the interest of any; and that is more than I could look for
in most counsellors. And now methinks that as we are drawing near
to Lanark, it will be well that I waited here in this wood, under
the guard of your followers, while you ride forward and inform
Wallace that I am here. I care not to show myself in Lanark, for
busy tongues would soon take the news to Edward; and as I know not
what may come of our interview, it were well that it should not be
known to all men."

Archie agreed, and rode into the town.

"Why, where have you been, truant?" Sir William exclaimed as Archie
entered the room in the governor's house which had been set apart
for the use of Wallace since the expulsion of the English. "Sir
Robert Gordon has been here several times, and tells me that they
have seen nought of you; and although I have made many inquiries I
have been able to obtain no news, save that you and your band have
disappeared.  I even sent to Glen Cairn, thinking that you might
have been repairing the damages which the fire, lighted by the
Kerrs, did to your hold; but I found not only that you were not
there yourself, but that none of your band had returned thither.
This made it more mysterious; for had you alone disappeared I should
have supposed that you had been following up some love adventure,
though, indeed, you have never told me that your heart was in any
way touched."

Archie laughed. "There will be time enough for that, Sir William,
ten years hence; but in truth I have been on an adventure on my
own account."

"So, in sober earnest, I expected, Archie, and feared that your
enterprise might lead you into some serious scrape since I deemed
that it must have been well nigh a desperate one or you would not
have hidden it from my knowledge."

"It might have led to some blows, Sir William, but happily it did
not turn out so. Knowing the importance you attached to the adhesion
of the cause of Scotland of Robert the Bruce, I determined to fetch
him hither to see you; and he is now waiting with my band for your
coming, in a wood some two miles from the town."

"Are you jesting with me?" Wallace exclaimed. "Is the Bruce really
waiting to see me? Why, this would be well nigh a miracle."

"It is a fact, Sir William; and if you will cause your horse to
be brought to the door I will tell you on the road how it has come
about."

In another five minutes Sir William and his young follower were
on their way, and the former heard how Archie had entrapped Robert
Bruce while riding to Crossraguel Abbey.

"It was well done, indeed," the Scottish leader exclaimed; "and
it may well prove, Archie, that you have done more towards freeing
Scotland by this adventure of yours than we have by all our months
of marching and fighting."

"Ah! Sir William, but had it not been for our marching and fighting
Bruce would never have wavered in his allegiance to Edward. It was
only because he begins to think that our cause may be a winning
one that he decides to join it."

The meeting between Wallace and Bruce was a cordial one. Each
admired the splendid proportions and great strength of the other,
for it is probable that in all Europe there were no two more
doughty champions; although, indeed, Wallace was far the superior
in personal strength while Bruce was famous through Europe for his
skill in knightly exercise.

Archie withdrew to a distance while the leaders conversed. He
could see that their talk was animated as they strode together up
and down among the trees, Wallace being the principal speaker. At
the end of half an hour they stopped, and Wallace ordered the horses
to be brought, and then called Archie to them.

"Sir Robert has decided to throw in his lot with us," he said, "and
will at once call out his father's vassals of Carrick and Annandale.
Seeing that his father is at Edward's court, it may be that many
will not obey the summons. Still we must hope that, for the love
of Scotland and their young lord, many will follow him. He will
write to the pope to ask him to absolve him for the breach of his
oath of homage to Edward; but as such oaths lie but lightly on men's
minds in our days, and have been taken and broken by King Edward
himself, as well as by Sir William Douglas and other knights who are
now in the field with me, he will not wait for the pope's reply,
but will at once take the field. And, indeed, there is need for
haste, seeing that Percy and Clifford have already crossed the
Border with an English army and are marching north through Annandale
towards Ayr."

"Goodbye, my captor," Bruce said to Archie as he mounted his horse;
"whatever may come of this strife, remember that you will always
find a faithful friend in Robert Bruce."

Wallace had, at Archie's request, brought six mounted men-at-arms
with him from Lanark, and these now rode behind Bruce as his escort
back to his castle of Turnberry. There was no time now for Archie
and his band to take the rest they had looked for, for messengers
were sent out to gather the bands together again, and as soon as
a certain portion had arrived Wallace marched for the south. The
English army was now in Annandale, near Lochmaben. They were far
too strong to be openly attacked, but on the night following his
arrival in their neighbourhood Wallace broke in upon them in the
night. Surprised by this sudden and unexpected attack, the English
fell into great confusion. Percy at once ordered the camp to be
set on fire.  By its light the English were able to see how small
was the force of their assailants, and gathering together soon
showed so formidable a front that Wallace called off his men, but
not before a large number of the English had been killed. Many of
their stores, as well as the tents, were destroyed by the conflagration.
The English army now proceeded with slow marches towards Ayr.  At
Irvine the Scotch leaders had assembled their army--Douglas,
Bruce, The Steward, Sir Richard Loudon, Wishart, Bishop of Glasgow,
and others.  Their forces were about equal to those of the English
marching against them. Wallace was collecting troops further north,
and Archie was of course with him.

"I fear," the lad said one day, "that we shall not be able to reach
Irvine before the armies join battle."

"Sir William Douglas and Bruce are there, and as it lies in their
country it were better to let them win the day without my meddling.
But, Archie, I fear there will be no battle.  News has reached
me that messengers are riding to and fro between Percy's army and
the Scots, and I fear me that these half hearted barons will make
peace."

"Surely that cannot be! It were shame indeed to have taken up the
sword, and to lay it down after scarce striking a blow."

"Methinks, Archie, that the word shame is not to be found in the
vocabulary of the nobles of this unhappy land. But let us hope for
the best; a few days will bring us the news."

The news when it came was of the worst. All the nobles, headed by
Wishart, Douglas, and Bruce, with the exception only of Sir Andrew
Moray of Bothwell, had made their submission, acknowledging their
guilt of rebellion, and promising to make every reparation required
by their sovereign lord.  Percy, on his part, guaranteed their lives,
lands, goods, and chattels, and that they should not be imprisoned
or punished for what had taken place.

Sir William Douglas and Bruce were ordered to find guarantees for
their good conduct; but Sir William Douglas, finding himself unable
to fulfil his engagements, surrendered, and was thrown into prison
in Berwick Castle, and there kept in irons until he died, his death
being attributed, by contemporary historians, to poison.

The surrender of the leaders had little result upon the situation.
The people had won their successes without their aid, and beyond
the indignation excited by their conduct, the treaty of Irvine did
nothing towards ensuring peace, and indeed heightened the confidence
of the people in Wallace.  The movement spread over the whole
of Scotland. Skirmishes and unimportant actions took place in
all quarters. The English were powerless outside the walls of the
fortresses, and in Berwick and Roxburgh alone was the English power
paramount. Most of the great nobles, including Comyn of Buchan,
Comyn of Badenoch, and twenty-six other powerful Scottish lords,
were at Edward's court, but many of their vassals and dependants
were in the field with Wallace.

About this time it came to the ears of the Scotch leader that Sir
Robert Cunninghame, a Scotch knight of good family, who had hitherto
held aloof from any part in the war, had invited some twelve others
resident in the counties round Stirling, to meet at his house in
that city that they might talk over the circumstances of the times.
All these had, like himself, been neutral, and as the object of
the gathering was principally to discover whether some means could
not be hit upon for calming down the disorders which prevailed,
the English governor had willingly granted safe conducts to all.

"Archie," Sir William said, "I mean to be present at the interview.
They are all Scotch gentlemen, and though but lukewarm in the cause
of their country, there is no fear that any will be base enough
to betray me; and surely if I can get speech with them I may rouse
them to cast in their lot with us."

"It were a dangerous undertaking, Sir William, to trust yourself
within the walls of Stirling," Archie said gravely.  "Remember how
many are the desperate passes into which your adventurous spirit
has brought you, and your life is of too great a consequence to
Scotland to be rashly hazarded."

"I would not do it for a less cause," Sir William said; "but the
gain may be greater than the risk. So I shall go, Archie, your wise
counsel notwithstanding, and you shall journey with me to see that
I get not into scrapes, and to help me out of them should I, in
spite of your care, fall into them."

"When is the day for the meeting?" Archie asked.

"In three days' time. The day after tomorrow we will move in that
direction, and enter the town early the next day."

No sooner had he left Wallace than Archie called his band together.
They still numbered twenty, for although three or four had fallen,
Archie had always filled up their places with fresh recruits, as
there were numbers of boys who deemed it the highest honour to be
enrolled in their ranks.  Archie drew aside his two lieutenants,
Andrew Macpherson and William Orr.

"I have an enterprise on hand," he said, "which will need all your
care, and may call for your bravery. Sir William Wallace purposes
to enter Stirling in disguise, to attend a meeting of nobles to be
held at the residence of Sir Robert Cunninghame. I am to accompany
him thither. I intend that the band shall watch over his safety,
and this without his having knowledge of it, so that if nought comes
of it he may not chide me for being over careful of his person. You
will both, with sixteen of the band, accompany me. You will choose
two of your most trusty men to carry out the important matter of
securing our retreat. They will procure a boat capable of carrying
us all, and will take their place in the bend of the links of
Forth nearest to the castle, and will hoist, when the time comes,
a garment on an oar, so that we may make straight for the boat. The
ground is low and swampy, and if we get a fair start even mounted
men would scarce overtake us across it. I think, William, that the
last recruit who joined was from Stirling?"

"He was, Sir Archie. His parents reside there. They are vendors of
wood, as I have heard him say."

"It could not be better," Archie replied; "and seeing that they
have allowed their son to join us, they must surely be patriots. My
purpose is, that on the morning of the interview you shall appear
before the gates with a cart laden with firewood, and this you shall
take to the house of Campbell's father. There you will unload the
firewood, and store the arms hidden beneath it, placing them so
that they may be readily caught up in case of necessity. In twos
and threes, carrying eggs, fowls, firewood, and other articles,
as for sale, the rest of the band will come into the town, joining
themselves with parties of country people, so that the arrival of
so many lads unaccompanied will not attract notice. James Campbell
will go with you, and will show you the way to his father's house.
He will remain near the gate, and as the others enter will guide
them there, so that they will know where to run for their arms should
there be need. You must start tomorrow, so as to enter Stirling on
the next day and arrange with his father for the keeping of the
arms.  His mother had best leave the town that evening. Should
nought occur she can return unsuspected; but should a tumult arise,
and the arms have to be used, his father must leave the town with
us. He shall be handsomely rewarded, and provision made for him
in the future. When you see me enter with Sir William, bid Jock
Farrell follow me at a little distance; he will keep me always in
sight, and if he see me lift my hand above my head he will run with
all speed to give you the news. On his arrival, you, Andrew, with
the half you command, will hurry up to my assistance; while you,
William, with the others, will fall suddenly upon the guard at the
gate, and will at all hazards prevent them from closing it, and so
cutting off our retreat, until we arrive. Seize, if you can, the
moment when a cart is passing in or out, and slay the horse in the
shafts, so that as he falls the cart will prevent the gate from
being closed, and so keep the way open, even should you not be able
to resist the English until we come up. Have all the band outside
Stirling on the night before, so that you will be able to make every
arrangement and obtain a cart in readiness for taking in the wood
and arms in the morning. Let all bring their bows and arrows, in
addition to pike and sword, for the missiles may aid us to keep the
soldiers at bay. Now, Andrew, repeat all my instructions, so that
I may be sure that you thoroughly understand my wishes, for any
small error in the plan might ruin the whole adventure."

On the morning of the day fixed for the meeting Sir William Wallace,
accompanied by Archie, entered the gates of Stirling. Both were
attired as young farmers, and they attracted no special attention
from the guards. For a time they strolled about the streets. They
saw the gentlemen who had been invited by Sir Robert Cunninghame
arrive one by one. Others, too, known as being specially attached
to the English party, rode in, for the governor had invited those
who assembled at Cunninghame's to meet him afterwards in the castle
in order that he might hear the result of their deliberations; and
he had asked several others attached to the English party to be
present.

When most of the gentlemen invited had entered Sir Robert Cunninghame's
Wallace boldly followed them; and Archie sat down on a doorstep
nearly opposite. Presently he saw two figures which he recognized
riding up the street, followed, as the others had been by four
armed retainers.  They were Sir John Kerr and his son. Archie rose
at once, and turned down at a side street before they came up, as
a recognition of him would be fatal to all their plans. When they
had passed up the street to the castle he returned and resumed
his seat, feeling more uneasy than before, for the Kerrs had seen
Wallace in the affray at Lanark, and a chance meeting now would
betray him. An hour and a half passed, and then Archie saw the
Kerrs riding down the street from the castle. Again he withdrew
from sight, this time down an archway, whence he could still see
the door on the opposite side. Hitherto he had been wishing to see
it open and for Wallace to appear; and now he dreaded this above
all things.  His worst fears were realized, for just as the horsemen
reached the spot the door opened, and Wallace stepped out. His
figure was too remarkable to avoid notice; and no sooner did Sir John
Kerr's eye fall upon him than he exclaimed, "The traitor Wallace!
Seize him, men; there is a high reward offered for him; and King
Edward will give honour and wealth to all who capture him."

As Sir John spoke Archie darted across the street and placed himself
by Wallace's side, holding his hand high above his head as he did
so; and at the instant he saw Jock Farrell, who had been lounging
at a corner a few yards away, dart off down the street at the top
of his speed.

Sir John and his retainers drew their swords and spurred forward;
but the horses recoiled from the flashing swords of Wallace and
his companion.

"Dismount," Sir John shouted, setting the example; "cut them both
down; one is as bad as the other. Ten pounds to the man who slays
the young Forbes."

Wallace cut down two of the retainers as they advanced against
them, and Archie badly wounded a third.  Then they began to retreat
down the street; but by this time the sound of the fray had called
together many soldiers who were wandering in the streets; and these,
informed by Sir John's shouts of "Down with Wallace! Slay! Slay!"
that the dreaded Scotch leader was before them, also drew and joined
in the fight.  As they came running up from both sides, Wallace
and Archie could retreat no further, but with their backs against
the wall kept their foes at bay in a semicircle by the sweep of
their swords.

The fight continued by two or three minutes, when a sudden shout
was heard, and William Orr, with eight young fellows, fell upon the
English soldiers with their pikes. The latter, astonished at this
sudden onslaught, and several of their number being killed before
they had time to turn and defend themselves, fell back for a moment,
and Wallace and Archie joined their allies, and began to retreat,
forming a line of pikes across the narrow street. Wallace, Archie,
William Orr, and three of the stoutest of the band were sufficient
for the line, and the other five shot between them. So hard and
fast flew their arrows that several of the English soldiers were
slain, and the others drew back from the assault.

Andrew Macpherson's sudden attack at the gate overpowered the guard,
and for a while he held possession of it, and following Archie's
instructions, slew a horse drawing a cart laden with flour in the
act of entering.  Then the guard rallied, and, joined by other
soldiers who had run up, made a fierce attack upon him; but his
line of pikes drawn up across the gate defied their efforts to break
through. Wallace and his party were within fifty yards of the gate
when reinforcements from the castle arrived. Sir John Kerr, furious
at the prospect of his enemies again escaping him, headed them in
their furious rush. Wallace stepped forward beyond the line and
met him. With a great sweep of his mighty sword he beat down Sir
John's guard, and the blade descending clove helmet and skull, and
the knight fell dead in his tracks.

"That is one for you, Archie," Wallace said, as he cut down a
man-at-arms.

In vain did the English try to break through the line of pikes.
When they arrived within twenty yards of the gate, Wallace gave
the order, and the party turning burst through the English who were
attacking its defenders and united with them.

"Fall back!" Wallace shouted, "and form without the gates. Your
leader and I will cover the retreat."

Passing between the cart and the posts of the gates, the whole
party fell back. Once through, Wallace and Archie made a stand, and
even the bravest of the English did not venture to pass the na

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