d with the chivalrous earl
he formed a friendship that was never dimmed by the enmity of the
nations to which they belonged.

Soon there came a summons to Stirling. By a dishonourable stratagem of
De Valence's, Lord and Lady Mar and Helen had been seized and carried to
Stirling Castle, where Lord Mar was in danger of immediate death. Helen
was in the power of De Valence, who pressed his hateful suit upon her.
Wallace and his men marched hastily, and captured the town; once more De
Valence begged Wallace's mercy, and once more, unworthy as he was,
obtained it. But the ruthless Cressingham, commanding the castle, placed
Lord Mar on the battlements with a rope round his neck, and declared
that unless the attack ceased the earl and his whole family would
instantly die. Wallace's reply was to bring forward De Valence, pale and
trembling. "The moment Lord Mar dies, De Valence shall instantly
perish," he declared.

Cressingham agreed to an armistice, hoping to gain time until De
Warenne, with the mighty English host then advancing from the border,
had reached Stirling. Next morning this great army in its pride poured
across the bridge of the Forth; but the Scottish warriors, rushing down
from the hillsides, with Wallace at their head, swept all before them.
It was rather a carnage than a battle. Those who escaped the steel of
Wallace's men were thrust into the river, and land and water were
burdened with English dead.

That evening Stirling Castle surrendered, the Scottish prisoners were
released, and their places were taken by the commanders of the enemy's
host.

_III.--Wallace the Regent_

When the victorious chiefs were gathering in the hall of the castle,
Helen looked upon each one with anxious eyes. Would the gentle knight
who rescued her be in Wallace's train? Lady Mar turned a restless glance
upon her step-daughter. "Wallace will behold these charms," she cried to
herself, "and then, where am I?"

Amid a crowd of knights in armour the conqueror entered; and as Helen
raised her eyes she saw that the knight of her dream, the man who had
saved her from worse than death, was Wallace himself!

"Scots, behold the Lord's anointed!" cried the patriot Bishop of
Dunkeld, drawing from his breast a silver dove of sacred oil, and
pouring it upon Wallace's head.

Every knee was bent, and every voice cried "Long live King William!"

"Rise, lords!" exclaimed Wallace. "Kneel not to me--I am but your fellow
soldier. Bruce