Part 67 (1/2)
Helen, who had listened with trepidation to this dialogue, drew nearer Wallace, and whispered in an agitated voice, ”Ah! let us hasten away.”
The man was close enough to hear her.
”Hah!” cried he, in a burst of doubtful joy; ”is it so? Is she here?
say so, n.o.ble knight, and Joppa Grimsby will serve ye both forever!”
”Grimsby!” cried Helen, recollecting his voice the moment he had declared his name; ”what! the honest English soldier? I and my preserver will indeed value so trusty a follower.”
The name of Grimsby was too familiar to the memory of Wallace, too closely a.s.sociated with his most cherished meditations, for him not to recognize it with melancholy pleasure. He had never seen Grimsby, but he knew him well worthy of his confidence; and ordered him (if he really desired to follow Lady Helen) to bring two more horses from the stables. When they were brought, Wallace made the joyful signal concerted with Bruce and Baliol, to sound the Scottish pryse as soon as he and his fair charge were out of the castle.
The happy tidings met the ear of the prince while anxiously watching the sleeping of De Valence, for fear he should awake and, leaving the room, interrupt Wallace in his enterprise. What, then, was his transport when the first note of the horn burst upon the silence around him! He sprung on his feet. The impetuosity of the action roused Baliol, who had been lying all the while sound asleep in his chair.
Bruce made a sign to him to be silent, and pressing his hand with energy, forgot the former Baliol in the present, and, for a moment bending his knee, kissed the hand he held; then, rising, disappeared in an instant.
He flew through the open gates. Wallace perceiving him, rode out from under the shadow of the trees. The bright light of the moon shone on his sparkling crest; that was sufficient for Bruce, and Wallace, falling back again into the shade, was joined the next moment by his friend. Who this friend was for whom her deliverer had told Helen he waited, she did not ask; for she dreaded, while so near danger, to breathe a word; but she guessed that it must either be Murray or Edwin.
De Valence had barbarously told her that not only her father was no more, but that her uncles, the Lords Bothwell and Ruthven, had both been killed in the last battle. Hence, with a saddened joy, one of her two bereaved cousins she now prepared to see; and every filial recollection pressing on her heart her tears flowed silently and in abundance. As Bruce approached, his black mantle so wrapped him she could not distinguish his figure. Wallace stretched forth his hand to him in silence; he grasped it with the warm but mute congratulation of friends.h.i.+p, and throwing himself on his horse, triumphantly exclaimed, ”Now for Paris!” Helen recognized none she knew in that voice; and drawing close to the white courser of Wallace, with something like disappointment mingling with her happier thoughts, she made her horse keep pace with the fleetness of her companions.
Chapter LXIV.
Forest of Vincennes.
Avoiding the frequented track to Paris, Wallace (to whom Grimsby was now a valuable auxiliary, he being well acquainted with the country) took a sequestered path by the banks of the Marne, and entered the Forest of Vincennes just as the moon set. Having ridden far, and without cessation, the old soldier proposed their alighting, to allow the lady an opportunity of reposing awhile under the trees. Helen was indeed nearly exhausted, though the idea of her happy flight, by inspiring her with a strength which surprised even herself, for a long time had kept her insensible to fatigue. While her friends pressed on with a speed which allowed no more conversation than occasional inquiries of how she bore the journey, the swiftness of the motion and the rapidity of the events which had brought her from the most frightful of situations into one the dearest to her secret and hardly-breathed wishes, so bewildered her faculties, that hse almost feared she was only enjoying one of those dreams which since her captivity had often mocked her with the image of Wallace and her release; and every moment she dreaded to awake and find herself still a prisoner to De Valence. ”I want no rest,” replied she to the observation of Grimsby; ”I could feel none till we are beyond the possibility of being overtaken by my enemy.”
”You are as safe in this wood, lady,” returned the soldier, ”as you can be in any place betwixt Galliard and Paris. It is many miles from the chateau, and lies in so remote a direction, that were the earl to pursue us, I am sure he would never choose this path.”
”And did he even come up with us, dear Lady Helen,” said Wallace, ”could you fear, when with your father's friend?”
”It is for my father's friend I fear,” gently answered she; ”I can have no dread for myself while under such protection.”
A very little more persuaded Helen; and Grimsby having spread his cloak on the gra.s.s, Wallace lifted her from her horse. As soon as she put her foot to the ground her head grew giddy, and she must have fallen but for the supporting arm of her watchful friend. He carried her to the couch prepared by the good soldier, and laid her on it. Grimsby had been more provident than they could have expected; for after saddling the second pair of horses, he had returned into the hall for his cloak, and taking an undrawn flask of wine from the seneschal's supper-table, put it into his vest. This he now produced, and Wallace made Helen drink some of it. The cordial soon revived her, and sinking on her pillow of leaves, she soon found the repose her wearied frame demanded and induced. For fear of disturbing her not a word was spoken. Wallace watched at her head, and Bruce sat at her feet, while Grimsby remained with the horses, as a kind of outpost.
Sweet was her sleep, for the thoughts with which she sunk into slumber occupied her dreams. Still she was riding by the side of Wallace, listening to his voice, cheering her through the lengthening way! But some wild animal in its nightly prowl crossing before the horses, they began to snort and plunge, and though the no less terrified alarmer fled far away, it was with difficulty the voice and management of Grimsby could quiet them. The noise suddenly awoke Helen, and her scattered faculties not immediately recollecting themselves, she felt an instant impression that all had indeed been a dream, and starting in affright, she exclaimed, ”Where am I? Wallace, where art thou?”
”Here!” cried he, pressing her hand with fraternal tenderness; ”I am here; you are safe with your friend and brother.”
Her heart beat with a terror which this a.s.surance could hardly subdue.
At last she said in an agitated voice, ”Forgive me if my senses are a little strayed! I have suffered so much, and this release seems so miraculous, that at moments I hardly believe it real. I wish daylight were come that I might be convinced.” When she had uttered these words, she suddenly stopped, and then added, ”But I am very weak to talk thus; I believe my late terrors have disordered my head.”
”What you feel, lady, is only natural,” observed Bruce; ”I experienced the same when I first regained my liberty, and found myself on the road to join Sir William Wallace. Dear, indeed, is liberty; but dearer is the friend whose virtues make our recovered freedom sure.”
”Who speaks to me?” said Helen, in a low voice to Wallace, and raising her head from that now supporting arm, on which she felt she did but too much delight to lean.
”One,” answered Wallace, in the same tone, ”who is not to be publicly known until occasion demands it; one who, I trust in G.o.d, will one day seal the happiness of Scotland--Robert Bruce.”
That name which, when in her idea it belonged to Wallace, used to raise such emotions in her breast, she now heard with an indifference that surprised her. But who could be more to Scotland than Wallace had been? All that was in the power of patriot or of king to do for his country, he had done; and what then was Bruce in her estimation? One who, basking in pleasures while his country suffered, allowed a brave subject to breast, to overthrow every danger, before he put himself forward? and now he appeared to a.s.sume a throne, which, though his right by birth, he had most justly forfeited, by neglecting the duties indispensable in the heir of so great and oppressed a kingdom! These would have been her thoughts of him; but Wallace called this Bruce his friend! and the few words she had heard him speak, being full of grat.i.tude to her deliverer, that engaged her esteem.
The answer, however, which she made to the reply of Wallace was spontaneous, and it struck upon the heart of Bruce. ”How long,” said she, ”have you promised Scotland that it should see that day!”
”Long, to my grief, Lady Helen,” rejoined Bruce; ”I would say to my shame--had I ever intentionally erred toward my country; but ignorance of her state, and of the depth of Edward's treachery, was my crime. I only required to be shown the right path to pursue it, and Sir William Wallace came to point the way. My soul, lady, is not unworthy the destiny to which he calls me.” Had there been light, she would have seen the flush of conscious virtue that overspread his fine countenance while he spoke; but the words were sufficient to impress her with that respect he deserved, and which her answer showed.