hich covered him from
head to foot. Pulling his cap well over his eyes, and choosing a trusty
thorn cudgel from a neighbouring thicket, he went limping up to the door
of the little inn, and knocked.

The captain who was with the English soldiers opened it. He looked the
lame beggar up and down.

"What dost thou want, thou cruikit carle?" he asked haughtily.

"An alms, master," answered the beggar humbly. "I am a poor lame man,
and unable to work, and I travel the country from end to end, begging my
daily bread."

"Ah," thought the captain to himself, "this man must hear all the
country gossip. Likely enough he knows where Wallace is, or the
direction in which 'tis thought he will travel."

He took a handful of gold from his pouch, and held it before the
beggar's eyes.

"Did you ever hear of a man called William Wallace?" he asked slowly;
"the country folk hereabouts talk a great deal of him. They call him
'hero,' and such-like names. But he is a traitor to our rightful King,
King Edward, and I am here to take him, alive or dead. Hast ever heard
of the fellow?"

"Ay," said the beggar, "I have both heard of him and seen him.
Moreover," and he looked at the gold, "I know where he is to be found."

An eager look came into the English knight's face. "I will pay thee
fifty pounds down," he said, "fifty pounds of good red money, if thou
wilt lead me to Sir William Wallace."

"Tell down the money on this bench," cried the beggar, "for it is in my
power to grant thy request, and verily, I will never have a better
offer, no, not if I wait till King Edward comes himself."

The English captain counted down the money on the old worm-eaten wooden
bench that stood beside the door of the inn, and the beggar counted it
after him, and picked it up, and put it carefully away in his wallet.
Then he faced the Englishman with a strange gleam in his eyes.

"Thou wouldst fain see William Wallace," he said. "Then see him thou
shalt, and feel the might of his arm too, which is more, belike, than
thou bargainedst for," and, before the astonished captain could grasp
his sword, he had let the beggar's cloak fall to the ground, and,
lifting his stout cudgel, he had given him such a clout over the head,
that his skull cracked like a nut, and he fell dead at his feet.

Without waiting to take breath, Wallace drew his sword, and, running
lightly upstairs, he burst into the room where the soldiers were just
finishing their meal, and befor