nds of a party of
English. Telling two of his attendants to carry the injured man to
Ellerslie, he had beaten off the English and slain their leader--Arthur
Heselrigge, nephew of the Governor of Lanark.

"Gallant Wallace!" said the stranger, "it is Donald, Earl of Mar, who
owes you his life."

"Then blest be my arm," exclaimed Wallace, "that has preserved a life so
precious to my country!"

"Armed men are approaching!" cried Lady Marion. "Wallace, you must fly.
But oh! whither?"

"Not far, my love; I must seek the recesses of the Cartlane Crags. But
the Earl of Mar--we must conceal him."

They found a hiding-place for the wounded earl, and Wallace went away,
promising to be near at hand. Hardly had he gone when the door was burst
open by a band of soldiers, and Lady Wallace was confronted by the
governor of Lanark.

"Woman!" cried he, "on your allegiance to King Edward, answer me--where
is Sir William Wallace, the murderer of my nephew?"

She was silent.

"I can reward you richly," he went on, "if you speak the truth. Refuse,
and you die!"

She stretched her hands to heaven.

"Blessed Virgin, to thee I commit myself."

"Speak!" cried the governor, drawing his sword. She sank to the ground.
"Kneel not to me for mercy!"

"I kneel to heaven alone," she said firmly, "and may it ever preserve my
Wallace!"

"Blasphemous wretch!" cried the governor, and he plunged the sword
through her heart.

A shudder of horror ran through the English soldiers.

"My friends," said Heselrigge, "I reward your services with the plunder
of Ellerslie."

"Cursed be he who first carries a stick from its walls!" exclaimed a
veteran.

"Amen!" murmured all the soldiers.

But next day the governor, with a body of soldiers who had not witnessed
his infamous deed, plundered Ellerslie and burnt it to the ground.
During the day Lord Mar was brought from his hiding-place, and taken to
Bothwell Castle; but the English seized him and his wife, and they were
placed in strict confinement among the English garrison on the Rock of
Dumbarton.

An aged retainer carried the awful news of the murder to Wallace in his
concealment. For long he was overpowered with agony. Then a desperate
determination arose in his mind. "The sun must not again rise upon
Heselrigge!" was his thought. He called his followers, and told them of
the deed. "From this hour," he cried, "may Scotland date her liberty, or
Wallace return no more!"

"Vengeance! vengea