Three of Wallace's men ran panting into the room.

Two of the assailants had climbed to the hall window; and had just been thrown back upon the cliffs, where one was killed.

"Conceal yourself," said the Scots to Wallace; "for in a few minutes more your men will not be able to maintain the gates." "Yes, my dear lord," cried Halbert, "there is a dry well at the end of the garden; at the bottom of that you will be safe." "By your love for me, Wallace--by all you owe to the tender affections of your grandfather, hearken to him!" cried Lady Marion, falling at his feet, and clasping his knees.

"I kneel for my life in kneeling for yours! Pity the gray hairs of Sir Ronald, whom your untimely death would bring to the grave! Pity your unborn child! Fly, Wallace, fly if you would have me live!" She was pale and breathless.
"Angel of my life," exclaimed Wallace, straining her to his heart, "I obey thee.

But if the hand of one of the desperate robbers dares to touch thy hallowed person-" "Think not so, my lord," interrupted Halbert; "it is you they seek.
Not finding you, they will be too eager in pursuit to molest your lady." "I shall be safe," whispered Marion; "only fly--while you are here, their shouts kill me." "But thou shalt go with me," returned he; "the well will contain us all.