Part 43 (1/2)

On their first interview he was more struck by her personal charms than he had ever been with any woman's, although few were so noted for gallantry in the English court as himself. He could hardly understand the nature of his feelings while discoursing with her. To all others of her s.e.x he had declared his enamored wishes with as much ease as vivacity, but when he looked on Helen the admiration her loveliness inspired was checked by an indescribable awe. No word of pa.s.sion escaped his lips; he sought to win her by a deportment consonant with her own dignity of manner, and obeyed all her wishes, excepting when they pointed to any communication with her parents. He feared the wary eyes of the Earl of Mar. But nothing of this reverence of Helen was grounded on any principle within the heart of De Valence. His idea of virtue was so erroneous that he believed, by the short a.s.sumption of its semblance, he might so steal on the confidence of his victim as to induce her to forget all the world--nay, heaven itself--in his sophistry and blandishments. To facilitate this end he at first designed to precipitate the condemnation of the earl, that he might be rid of a father's existence, holding, in dread of his censure, the perhaps otherwise yielding heart of his lovely intended mistress.

The unprincipled and impure can have no idea what virtue or delicacy are other than vestments of disguise or of ornament, to be thrown off at will; and therefore, to reason with such minds is to talk to the winds--to tell a man who is born blind to decide between two colors. In short, a libertine heart is the same in all ages of the world. De Valence, therefore, seeing the anguish of her fears for her father, and hearing the fervor with which she implored for his life, adopted the plan of granting the earl reprieves from day to day; and in spite of the remonstrances of Cressingham, he intended (after having worked upon the terrors of Helen), to grant to her her father's release, on condition of her yielding herself to be his. He had even meditated that the accomplishment of this device should have taken place the very night in which Wallace's first appearance before Stirling had called its garrison to arms.

Impelled by vengeance against the man who had driven him from Dumbarton and from Ayr, and irritated at being delayed in the moment when his pa.s.sion was to seize its object, De Valence thought to end all by a coup de main--and rus.h.i.+ng out of the gates, was taken prisoner. Such was the situation of things, when Wallace first became master of the place.

Now when the whole of the English army were in the same captivity with himself, when he saw the lately proscribed Lord Mar, Governor of Stirling, and that the Scottish cause seemed triumphant on every side, De Valence changed his former illicit views on Helen, and bethought him of making her his wife. Ambition, as well as love, impelled him to this resolution; and he foresaw that the vast influence which his marriage with the daughter of Mar must give him in the country, would be a decisive argument with the King of England.

To this purpose, not doubting the Scottish's earl acceptance of such a son-in-law, on the very day that Wallace marched toward the coast, De Valence sent to request an hour's private audience of Lord Mar. He could not then grant it; but at noon, next day, they met in the governor's apartments.

The Southron, without much preface, opened his wishes, and proffered his hand for the Lady Helen. ”I'll make her the proudest lady in Great Britain,” continued he; ”for she shall have a court in my Welsh province, little inferior to that of Edward's queen.”

”Pomp would have no sway with my daughter,” replied the earl; ”it is the princely mind she values, not its pagentry. Whomsoever she prefers the tribute will be paid to the merit of the object, not to his rank; and therefore, earl, should it be you, the greater will be your pledge of happiness. I shall repeat to her what you have said; and to-morrow deliver her answer.”

Not deeming it possible that it should be otherwise than favorable, De Valence allowed his imagination to roam over every antic.i.p.ated delight.

He exulted in the pride with which he would show this perfection of northern beauty to the fair of England; how would the simple graces of her seraphic form, which looked more like a being of air than of earth, put to shame the labored beauties of the court? And then it was not only the artless charms of a wood-nymph he would present to the wondering throng, but a being whose majesty of soul proclaimed her high descent and peerless virtues. How did he congratulate himself, in contemplating this unsullied temple of virgin innocence, that he had never, by even the vapor of one impa.s.sioned sigh, contaminated her pure ear, or broken the magic spell, which seemed fated to crown him with happiness unknown, with honor unexampled! To be so blessed, so distinguished, so envied, was to him a dream of triumph, that wafted away all remembrance of his late defeat; and he believed, in taking Helen from Scotland, he should bear away a richer prize than any he could leave behind.

Full of these antic.i.p.ations, he attended the Governor of Stirling the next day, to hear his daughter's answer. But unwilling to give the earl that advantage over him which a knowledge of his views in the matter might occasion, he affected a composure he did not feel; and with a lofty air entered the room as if he were come rather to confer than to beg a favor. This deportment did not lessen the satisfaction with which the brave Scot opened his mission.

”My lord, I have just seen my daughter. She duly appreciates the honor you would confer on her; she is grateful for all your courtesies whilst she was your prisoner, but beyond that sentiment, her heart, attached to her native land, cannot sympathize with your wishes.”

De Valence started. He did not expect anything in the shape of a denial; but supposing that perhaps a little of his own art was tried by the father to enhance the value of his daughter's yielding, he threw himself into a chair, and affecting chagrin at a disappointment (which he did not believe was seriously intended), exclaimed with vehemence, ”Surely, Lord Mar, this is not meant as a refusal? I cannot receive it as such, for I know Lady Helen's gentleness, I know the sweet tenderness of her nature would plead for me, were she to see me at her feet, and hear me pour forth the most ardent pa.s.sion that ever burned in a human breast. Oh, my gracious lord, if it be her attachment to Scotland which alone militates against me, I will promise that her time shall be pa.s.sed between the two countries. Her marriage with me may facilitate that peace with England which must be the wish of us all; and perhaps the lord wardens.h.i.+p which De Warenne now holds may be transferred to me. I have reasons for expecting that it will be so; and then she, as a queen in Scotland, and you as her father, may claim every distinction from her fond husband, every indulgence for the Scots, which your patriot heart can dictate. This would be a certain benefit to Scotland; while the ignis fatuus you are now following, however brilliant may be its career during Edward's absence, must on his return be extinguished in disaster and infamy.”

The silence of the Earl of Mar, who, willing to hear all that was in the mind of De Valence, had let him proceed uninterrupted, encouraged the Southron lord to say more than he had at first intended to reveal; but when he made a pause, and seemed to expect an answer, the earl spoke:

”I am fully sensible of the honor you would bestow upon my daughter and myself by your alliance; but, as I have said before, her heart is too devoted to Scotland to marry any man whose birth does not make it his duty to prefer the liberty of her native land, even before his love for her. That hope to see our country freed from a yoke unjustly laid upon her--that hope which you, not considering our rights, or weighing the power that lies in a just cause, denominate an ignis fatuus, is the only pa.s.sion I believe that lives in the gentle bosom of my Helen; and therefore, n.o.ble earl, not even your offers can equal the measure of her wishes.”

At this speech De Valence bit his lip with real disappointment; and starting from his chair now in unaffected disorder, ”I am not to be deceived, Lord Mar,” cried he; ”I am not to be cajoled by the pretended patriotism of your daughter; I know the s.e.x too well to be cheated with these excuses. The ignis fatuus that leads your daughter from my arms, is not the freedom of Scotland, but the handsome rebel who conquers in its name! He is now fortune's minion, but he will fall, Lord Mar, and then what will be the fate of his mad adherents?”

”Earl de Valence,” replied the veteran, ”sixty winters have checked the tides of pa.s.sion in my veins; but the indignation of my soul against any insult offered to my daughter's delicacy, or to the name of the lord regent of Scotland is not less powerful in my breast. You are my prisoner, and I pardon what I could so easily avenge. I will even answer you, and say that I do not know of any exclusive affection subsisting between my daughter and Sir William Wallace; but this I am a.s.sured of, that were it the case, she would be more enn.o.bled in being the wife of so true a patriot and so virtuous a man, than were she advanced to the bosom of an emperor. And for myself, were he to-morrow hurled by a mysterious Providence from his present n.o.bly-won elevation, I should glory in my son were he such, and would think him as great on a scaffold as on a throne.”

”It is well that is your opinion,” replied De Valence, stopping in his wrathful strides, and turning on Mar with vengeful irony; ”cherish these heroics, for you will a.s.suredly see him so exalted. Then where will be his triumphs over Edward's arms and Pembroke's heart? Where your daughter's patriot husband; you glorious son? Start not, old man, for by all the powers of h.e.l.l I swear that some eyes which now look proudly on the Southron host, shall close in blood! I announce a fact!”

”If you do,” replied Mar, shuddering at the demoniac fire that lightened from the countenance of De Valence, ”it must be by the agency of devils; and their minister, vindictive earl, will meet the vengeance of the Eternal arm.”

”These dreams,” cried De Valence, ”cannot terrify me. You are neither a seer, nor I a fool, to be taken by such prophecies. But were you wise enough to embrace the advantage I offer, you might be a prophet of good, greater than he of Ercildown, to your nation; for all that you could promise, I would take care should be fulfilled. But you cast from you your peace and safety; my vengeance shall therefore take its course. I rely not on oracles of heaven or h.e.l.l; but I have p.r.o.nounced the doom of my enemies; and though you now see me a prisoner, tremble, haughty Scot, at the resentment which lies in this head and heart.

This arm perhaps needs not the armies of Edward to pierce you in your boast!”

He left the room as he spoke; and Lord Mar, shaking his venerable head as he disappeared, said to himself: ”Impotent rage of pa.s.sion and of youth, I pity and forgive you.”

It was not, therefore, so extraordinary that De Valence, when he saw Wallace descending the Ochil hills with the flying banners of new victories, should break into curses of his fortune, and swear inwardly the most determined revenge.

Fuel was added to this fire at sunset, when the almost measureless defiles of prisoners, marshaled before the ramparts of Stirling, and taking the usual oath to Wallace, met his view.

”To-morrow we quit these dishonoring wall,” cried he to himself: ”but ere I leave them, if there be power in gold, or strength in my arm, he shall die!”

Chapter XLI.

The State Prison.