CHAPTER VIII.
Bothwell Chapel.
Night having passed over the sleepless heads of the inhabitants of Bothwell Castle, as soon as the sun arose, the Earl of Mar was carried from his chamber, and laid on a couch in the state apartment.

His lady had not yet left the room of his daughter, by whose side she had lain the whole night in hopes of infecting her with the fears which possessed himself.
Helen replied that she could see no reason for such direful apprehension, if her father, instead of joining Wallace in person, would, when he had sent him succors, retire with his family into the Highlands, and there await the issue of the contest.

"It is too late to retreat, dear madam," continued she; "the first blow against the public enemy was struck in defense of Lord Mar; and would you have my father act so base a part, as to abandon his preserver to the wrath such generous assistance has provoked ?" "Alas, my child!" answered the countess, "what great service will he have done to me or to your father, if he deliver him from one danger, only to plunge him into another?
Edward's power in this country is too great to be resisted now.

Have not most of our barons sworn fealty to him?
and are not the potent families of the Cummin, the Soulis, and the March, all in his interest?
You may perhaps say, that most of these are my relations, and that I may turn them which way I will; but if I have no influence with a husband, it would be madness to expect it over more distant kindred.

How, then, with such a host against him, can your infatuated father venture, without despair, to support the man who breaks the peace with England ?" "Who can despair, honored lady," returned Helen, "in so just a cause?
Let us rather believe with our good King David, that 'Honor must hope always; for no real evil can befall the virtuous, either in this world or in the next!' Were I a man, the justice that leads on the brave Wallace would nerve my arm with the strength of a host.