the heart. They dared not evince the faintest sign of disapproval, for
they stood on precarious ground; a groan even might be punished by their
irritable king as treachery; but there was one present who cared little
for this charge. Scarcely had the words passed the herald's lips, before
a young man, whose bare head and lack of all weapons would have
proclaimed him one of the Earl of Hereford's prisoners, had not the
attention of all been turned from him by the one engrossing object, now
snatching a sword from a soldier near him, sprung from his horse, and
violently attacking the herald, exclaimed, in a voice of thunder--

"Liar and slave! thinkest thou there is none near to give the lie to thy
foul slanders--none to defend the fair fame, the stainless honor of this
much-abused lady? Dastard and coward, fit mouthpiece of a dishonored and
blasphemous tyrant! go tell him, his prisoner--aye, Nigel Bruce--thrusts
back his foul lies into his very teeth. Ha! coward and slave, wouldst
thou shun me?"

A scene of indescribable confusion now ensued. The herald, a man not
much in love with war, stood cowering and trembling before his
adversary, seeking to cover himself with his weapon, but, from his
trembling hold, ineffectually. The stature of the youthful Scotsman
appeared towering, as he stood over him with his uplifted sword,
refusing to strike a defenceless man, but holding him with a gripe of
iron; his cheek flushed crimson, his nostrils distended, for his soul
was moved with a mightier, darker passion than had ever stirred its
depths before. The soldiers of both parties, joined, too, by some from
the castle--for a party headed by the Earl of Berwick himself had
attended to give countenance to the proclamation--rushed forward, but
involuntarily fell back, awed for the moment by the mighty spirit of one
man; the knights, roused from their sullen posture, looked much as if
they would, if they dared, have left the herald to his fate. Hereford
and Berwick at the same instant spurred forward their steeds, the one
exclaiming, "Madman, let go your hold--you are tempting your own fate!
Nigel, for the love of heaven! for the sake of those that love you, be
not so rash!" the other thundering forth, "Cut down the traitor, an he
will not loose his hold. Forward, cowardly knaves! will ye hear your
king insulted, and not revenge it?--forward, I say! fear ye a single
man?"

And numbers, spurred on by his words, dashed forward to obey him