Within the barbican gate stood Wallace, with Scrymgeour and Murray.

The earl knew Scrymgeour well, having often seen him in the field as hereditary standard-bearer of the kingdom; of the persons of the others he was ignorant.
"There is Wallace!" exclaimed Kirkpatrick.
"Not one of those very young men ?" interrogated the earl.
"Even so," was the answer of the knight; "but his is the youth of the brave son of Ammon; gray beards are glad to bow before his golden locks, for beneath them is wisdom." As he spoke they entered the barbican; and Wallace (whom the penetrating eye of Lennox had already singled out for the chief) advanced to meet his guest.
"Earl," said he, "you are welcome to Dumbarton Castle." "Bravest of my countrymen!" returned Lennox, clasping him in his arms, "receive a soldier's embrace, receive the gratitude of a loyal heart! accept my service, my arms, my men: my all I devote to Scotland and the great cause." Wallace for a moment did not answer; but warmly straining the earl to his breast, said, as he released him, "Such support will give sinews to our power.

A few months, and with the blessing of that arm which has already mowed down the ranks which opposed us, we shall see Scotland at liberty." "And may Heaven, brave Wallace!" exclaimed Lennox, "grant us thine arm to wield its scythe! But how have you accomplished this?
How have your few overthrown this English host ?" "He strikes home, when right points his sword," replied Wallace; "the injuries of Scotland were my guide, and justice my companion.

We feared nothing, for God was with us; we feared nothing, and in his might we conquered." "And shall yet conquer!" cried Lennox, kindling with the enthusiasm that blazed from the eyes of Wallace.

"I feel the strength of our cause; and from this hour, I devote myself to assert it, or to die." "Not to die! my noble lord," said Murray; "we have yet many an eve to dance over the buried fetters of Scotland.