Wallace disguised himself as a minstrel, and travelled to Durham, where King Edward held his court, and where young Bruce, taken captive, was now confined.  By making himself known to the Earl of Gloucester, Wallace was able to gain access to Bruce, whose father was now dead, and to lay his plans before him.  These were that Bruce should escape from Durham, that the two should travel to Guienne and rescue Helen, and that they should then, as unknown strangers, offer their services to Scotland.

The plans were fulfilled.  Bruce escaped, De Valence was once more deprived of his prey—­he did not suspect the identity of the two knights until after Helen had been delivered from his clutches—­and the pair fought as Frenchmen in the wars of Scotland.  To few was the truth revealed, and only one discovered it—­a knight wearing a green plume, who refused to divulge his name until Wallace proclaimed his own on the day of victory.

But the secret could not be kept for ever, and it was Wallace himself who cast off the disguise.  At the battle of Rosslyn the day seemed lost; an overwhelming mass of English bore down the Scots; men were turning to fly.  The fate of Wallace’s country hung on an instant.  Taking off his helmet, he waved it in the air with a shout, and, having thus drawn all eyes upon him, exclaimed:  “Scots, follow William Wallace to victory!” The cry of “Wallace!” turned the fugitives; new courage was diffused in every breast; defeat was straightway changed into triumph.

Soon after this declaration the knight of the green plume came to Wallace, tore off the disguise of knighthood, and stood before him the bold and unblushing Countess of Mar.  It was unconquerable love, she said, that had induced her to act thus.  Wallace told her once more that his love was buried in the grave, and entreated her to refrain from guilty passion.  Angered, she thrust a dagger at his breast; he wrenched the weapon from her hand, and bade her go in peace.

Ere sunset next evening he heard that he had been accused of treason to Scotland, and that his accuser was the Countess of Mar.

He faced the false charge, and repudiated it.  But such was the hatred of the Cummins and their supporters that it was plainly impossible for him to serve Scotland, now that his name was known, without causing distraction in the country’s ranks.  He wandered forth, alone save for his ever-faithful follower, Edwin Ruthven, a price set upon his head by the relentless Edward, leaving his enemies to rejoice, and his friends to despair of Scotland’s liberty.

V.—­Tragedy and Triumph

As Wallace journeyed in the regions made sacred to him by Marion’s memory, he was met by Sir John Monteith, who offered to conduct him to Newark-on-the-Clyde, where he might embark on a vessel about to sail.  Wallace gladly accepted the offer, little guessing that his old and trusted friend Monteith was in the pay of England.