It was only too true.

Silently and guardedly the whole English army, extending much further towards Perth than was visible to the Scotch, had been formed in battle array, line after line stretching forth its glittering files, in too compact and animated array to admit of a doubt as to their intentions.

The sun had completely sunk, and dim mists were spreading up higher and higher from the horizon, greatly aiding the treacherous movements of the English.
"By heavens, 'tis but too true!" burst impetuously from Nigel's lips, indignation expressed in every feature.

"Base, treacherous cowards! Hie thee to the king--fly for thy life--give him warning, while I endeavor to form the lines.

In vain, utterly in vain!" he muttered, as Alan with the speed of lightning darted down the slope.