He spoke of the beacon-hill; of moonlight walks in the camp, when all but the sentinels and his general and himself were sunk in sleep.
These were the seasons when the suppressed feelings of Wallace would by fits break from his lips, and at last pour themselves out, unrestrainedly, to the ear of sympathy.

As the young narrator described all the endearing qualities of his friend, the cheerful heroism with which he quelled every tender remembrance to do his duty in the day-"for it is only in the night," said Edwin, "that my general remembers Ellerslie"-- Helen's tears again stole silently down her cheeks.

Edwin perceived them, and throwing his arms gently around her.
"Weep not, my sweet cousin," said he; "for, with all his sorrow, I never saw true happiness till I beheld it in the eyes and heard it in the voice of Sir William Wallace.

He has talked to me of the joy he should experience in giving liberty to Scotland, and establishing her peace, till his enthusiastic soul, grasping hope, as if it were possession, he has looked on me with a consciousness of enjoyment which seemed to say that all bliss was summed up in a patriot's breast.
"And at other times, when, after a conversation on his beloved Marion, a few natural regrets would pass his lips, and my tears tell how deep was my sympathy, then he would turn to comfort me; then he would show me the world beyond this--that world which is the aim of all his deeds, the end of all his travails--and, lost in the rapturous idea of meeting his Marion there, a foretaste of all would seem to seize his soul: and were I then called upon to point out the most enviable felicity on earth, I should say it is that of Sir William Wallace.

It is this enthusiasm in all he believes and feels that makes him what he is.