While the men were towing it, and buffeting with it through the breakers, he too threw himself into the sea to swim by its side, and be in readiness in case of accident.
Having gained the shore, or rather the broken rocks, that lie at the foot of the stupendous craigs which surround the Isle of Arran, Wallace and his sturdy assistants conveyed the countess and her terrified women up their acclivities.

Fortunately for the shipwrecked voyagers, though the wind raged, its violence was of some advantage, for it nearly cleared the heavens of clouds, and allowed the moon to send forth her guiding light.

By her lamp one of the men discovered the mouth of a cavern, where Wallace gladly sheltered his dripping charges.
The child, whom he had guarded in his own arms during the difficult ascent, he now laid on the bosom of its mother.

Lady mar kissed the hand that relinquished it, and gave way to a flood of grateful tears.
The earl, as he sunk almost powerless against the side of the cave, yet had strength enough to press Wallace to his heart.

"Ever preserver of me and mine!" cried he, "how must I bless thee!-My wife, my child-" "Have been saved to you, my friend," interrupted Wallace, "by the presiding care of Him who walked the waves! Without His especial arm we must all have perished in this awful night; therefore let our thanksgivings be directed to Him alone." "So be it!" returned the earl, and dropping on his knees, he breathed forth so pathetic and sublime a prayer of thanks, that the countess trembled, and bent her head upon the bosom of her child.