Part 61 (2/2)
The Round Tower.
Wallace was yet recounting the particulars of his royal visit to Bruce (who had anxiously watched his return), when one of the queen's attendants appeared; and presenting him with a silk handkerchief curiously coiled up, said, that he brought it from her majesty; who supposed it must be his, as she found it in the room where he had been playing the harp. Wallace was going to say that it did not belong to him, when Bruce gave him a look which directed him to take the handkerchief. He obeyed, without a word, and the boy withdrew.
Bruce smiled. ”There is more in that handkerchief than silk, my friend! Queens send not these emba.s.sies on trifling errands.” While Bruce spoke, Wallace unwrapped it. ”I told you so!” cried the prince, with a frank archness playing over his before pensive features, and pointing to a slip of emblazoned vellum, which became unfolded. ”Shall I look aside while you peruse it?”
”Look on it, my dear prince,” replied Wallace; ”for in trifles, as well as in things of moment, I would hold no reserves with you.”
The vellum was then opened, and these words presented themselves:
”Presume not on condescension. This injunction may be necessary for the n.o.ble lady who was present at our interview tells me the men of this island are very presuming. Redeem the character of your countrymen, and transgress not on a courtesy that only means to say, I did not leave you this morning so abruptly out of unkindness. I write this, because having the countess ever with me, I shall not even dare to whisper it in her presence. Be always faithful, and respectful, minstrel, and you shall ever find an indulgent mistress.
”A page will call you when your attendance is desired.”
Wallace and Bruce looked on each other. Bruce first spoke.
”Had you vanity, my friend, this letter, from so lovely and innocent a creature, might be a gratification; but in your case, the sentiment it breathes is full of danger. She knows not the secret power that impelled her to write this, but we do; and I fear it will point an attention to you which may produce effects ruinous to our projects.”
”Then,” answered Wallace, ”our alternative is to escape it by getting away this very night. And, as you persevere in your resolution not to enter Scotland unaccompanied by me, and will share my attempt to rescue Lady Helen Mar, we must direct our course immediately to the Continent.”
”Yes, instantly, and securely, too, under the disguise of priests!”
returned Bruce. ”I have in my possession the wardrobe of the confessor who followed my father's fortunes, and who, on his death, retired into the abbey which contains his remains.”
It was then settled between the friends, that when it became dark they should dress themselves in the confessor's robes, and by means of the queen's signet, which she had given to Wallace at the banquet, pa.s.s the guard as priests who had entered by some other gate, and were returned from shriving her majesty. Once without the city, they could make a swift progress southward to the nearest seaport, and there safely embark for France; for they were well aware that the moment they were missed suspicion would direct pursuit toward the Scottish border.
In these arrangements, and planning their future movements relative to the rescue of Lady Helen, they pa.s.sed several hours, and were only interrupted by the arrival of a lute from the queen for her minstrel to tune. Wallace obeyed; and returning it by the page who brought it, congratulated himself that it was not accompanied by any new summons.
Then continuing his discourse with Bruce on the past, present, and to come, their souls grew more closely entwined as they more intimately recognized their kindred natures; and time moved on, unmarked, till the shadows of evening deepened into night.
”Now is our hour,” cried Bruce, starting on his feet; ”go you into that room, and array yourself in the confessor's robes, while I call my servants to dispense with their usual nightly attendance.”
With determination and hope, Wallace gladly obeyed. In that very same instant the Earl of Gloucester suddenly entered; and, looking round the room with a disturbed countenance, abruptly said:
”Where is the minstrel?”
”Why?” answered Bruce, with an alarm which he vainly tried to prevent appearing on his face. Gloucester advanced close to him.
”Is any one within hearing?”
”No one.”
”Then,” replied the earl, ”his life is in danger. He is suspected to be not what he seems; and I am sorry to add, to stand in favor with the queen, of a nature to incur his mortal punishment.”
Bruce was so confounded with this stoppage of all their plans, and at the imminent peril of Wallace, that he could not speak. Gloucester proceeded:
”My dear Bruce, from the circ.u.mstance of his being with you, I cannot but suppose that you know more than you think proper to disclose.
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