“The next time that you draw this dagger,” said he, “let it be with a more knightly aim than assassination.”

De Valence, careless of the looks of horror and contempt cast upon him by his fellow countrymen, broke it asunder, and, throwing the fragments in the air, said to the shivered weapon, “You shall not betray me again!”

“Nor you betray our honours, Lord de Valence,” said De Warenne sternly.  “As lord warden of this realm, I order you under arrest until we pass the Scottish lines.”

After the exchange of prisoners had been effected, Wallace invaded the enemy’s country, and brought rich stores from the barns of Northumberland to the starving people of desolated Scotland.  The reduction followed of all the fortresses held by the English in Northern Scotland.  King Edward himself was now advancing; but a greater peril menaced the regent than that of the invader.

Many of the nobles, headed by the Earls of Athol, Buchan, and March, were bitterly jealous of the ascendancy of a low-born usurper—­for so they called Scotland’s deliverer—­and conspired to restore the sovereignty of Edward.  Their chance of treachery came when Wallace faced the English host at Falkirk.  When the battle was joined, Athol, Buchan, and all the Cummins, crying, “Long live King Edward!” joined the English, and flung themselves upon their fellow-countrymen.  Grievous was the havoc of Scot on Scot; and beside the English king throughout the battle stood Bruce, the rightful monarch, aiding in the destruction of his nation’s liberties.

But on the night of that disastrous day, a young stranger in splendid armour came secretly to Wallace.  It was Robert Bruce, seeking to offer his services to his country and to wipe out the stigma that his father had cast upon his name.

IV.—­The Traitors

None fought more fiercely than Robert Bruce in the attack made by Wallace’s men upon the English on the banks of the Carron, and the traitor, Earl of March, fell by the young warrior’s own hand.  But treason, smitten on the field of battle, was rampant at Stirling; and when Wallace returned there, bowed with grief at the death of Lord Mar, he found the Cummin faction—­Lady Mar’s kinsmen—­in furious revolt against the “upstart.”  His resolution was quickly made; he would not be a cause of civil strife to his country.

“Should I remain your regent,” said he to the assembled people, “the country would be involved in ruinous dissensions.  I therefore quit the regency; and I bequeath your liberty to the care of the chieftains.  But should it be again in danger, remember that, while life breathes in this heart, the spirit of Wallace will be with you still!” With these words he mounted his horse, and rode away, amidst the cries and tears of the populace.

Lady Mar, whose secret hopes had been stirred afresh by the death of her husband, heard with consternation of Wallace’s departure.  But he went away without a thought of her; his mission was the rescue of Helen, to which he had pledged himself by the death-bed of Lord Mar.  Helen had been kidnapped by De Valence, and carried off by him to his castle in Guienne.