Drunk with rage, he made a desperate plunge at the heart of Wallace--a plunge, armed with execrations, and all his strength; but his sword missed its aim, and entered the side of a youth, who at that moment had thrown himself before his general.

Wallace saw where the deadly blow fell; and instantly closing on the earl--with a vengeance in his eyes, which reminded his now determined victim of the horrid vision he had seen in the burning Barns of Ayr--with one grasp of his arm, the incensed chief hurled him to the ground; and setting his foot upon his breast, would have buried his dagger there, had not De Valence dropped his uplifted sword, and with horror in every feature, raised his clasped hands in speechless supplication.
Wallace suspended the blow; and De Valence exclaimed: "My life! this once again, gallant Wallace! by your hopes of heaven, grant me mercy!" Wallace looked on the trembling recreant with a glare, which, had he possessed the soul of a man, would have made him grasp at death, rather than deserve a second.

"And hast thou escaped me again ?" cried Wallace.

Then turning his indignant eyes from the abject earl to his bleeding friend-"I yield him his life, Edwin, and you, perhaps, are slain ?" "Forget not our own bright principle to avenge me," said Edwin, as brightly smiling; "he has only wounded me.

But you are safe, and I hardly feel a smart." Wallace replaced his dagger in his girdle.