The hour--the conflict--the bleeding stranger! But now he was returned--he was safe! "Art thou indeed here!" exclaimed she.

Blood fell from his forehead upon her face and bosom: "O, my Wallace!" cried she, in agony.
"Fear not, my love! all is well, since our wounded countryman is safe." "But you, bleed!" returned she.

No tears now impeded her voice.
Terror had checked their joyful currents; and she felt as if she expected his life-blood to issue from the wound on which she gazed.
"I hope my preserver is not hurt ?" inquired the stranger.
"Oh, no!" replied Wallace, putting back the hair from his forehead; "a mere trifle!" That the action had discovered the gash to be wider than he thought, he saw in the countenance of his wife! She turned deadly pale.

"Marion," said he, "to convince you how causeless your fears are, you shall cure me yourself; and with no other surgery than your girdle!" When Lady Wallace heard his gay tone, and saw the unforced smiles on his lips, she took courage; and, remembering the deep wounds on the stranger, whom she had just assisted to dress, without any alarm for his life, she began to hope that she need not now fear for the object dearest to her in existence.

Rising from her husband's arms, with a languid smile she unbound the linen fillet from her waist; and Halbert having poured some balsam into the wound, she prepared to apply the bandage; but when she lifted her husband's hair from his temple--that hair which had so often been the object of her admiration, as it hung in shining masses over his arching brows!-when the clotted blood met her fingers, a mist seemed to pass over her sight; she paused for a moment; but rallying her strength, as the cheerful sound of his voice conversing with his guest assured her fear was needless, she tied the fillet; and, stealing a soft kiss on his cheek when she had finished, she seated herself, yet trembling, by his side.
"Gallant Wallace!" continued the stranger-agitation had prevented her hearing what had preceded this-"it is Donald Earl of Mar, who owes his life to you." "Then blessed be my arm," exclaimed Wallace, "that has preserved a life so precious to my country!" "May it indeed be blessed!" cried Lord Mar; "for this night it has made the Southrons feel there is yet one man in Scotland who does not fear to resist oppression, and to punish treachery." "What treachery ?" inquired Lady Wallace, her alarmed spirit still hovering about her soul's far dearer part; "is any meant to my husband ?" "None to Sir William Wallace, more than to any other brave Scot," replied the earl: "but we all see the oppression of our country; we all know the treachery by which it was subjugated; and this night, in my own person, I have felt the effects of both.