in his soul. Internally he vowed he would raise
the banner of his race, and prove the loyalty, the
patriotism, the glowing love of liberty which her
counsels, her example had planted in his breast; and
if the recollection of his mother’s precarious
situation as a proscribed traitor to Edward, and of
his father’s desertion of his country and her
patriot king in his adherence to a tyrant—if
these reflections came to damp the bright glowing
views of others, they did but call the indignant blood
to his cheek, and add greater firmness to his impatient
step, for yet more powerfully did they awake his indignation
against Edward. Till now he had looked upon him
exclusively in the light of Scotland’s foe—one
against whom he with all true Scottish men must raise
their swords, or live forever ’neath the brand
of slaves and cowards; but now a personal cause of
anger added fuel to the fire already burning in his
breast. His mother was proscribed—a
price set upon her head; and as if to fill the measure
of his cup of bitterness to overflowing, his own father,
he who should have been her protector, aided and abetted
the cruel, pitiless Edward. Traitress! Isabella
of Buchan a traitress! the noblest, purest, bravest
amid Scotland’s children. She who to him
had ever seemed all that was pure and good, and noblest
in woman; and most noble and patriot-hearted now,
in the fulfilment of an office inherent in the House
of Fife. Agitated beyond expression, quicker and
quicker he strode up and down the precincts marked
for his watch, the increasing tempest without seeming
to assimilate strangely with the storm within.
Silence would have irritated, would have chafed those
restless smartings into very agony, but the wild war
of the elements, while they roused his young spirit
into yet stronger energy, removed its pain.
“It matters not,” his train of thought
continued, “while this brain can think, this
heart can feel, this arm retain its strength, Isabella
of Buchan needs no other guardian but her son.
It is as if years had left their impress on my heart,
as if I had grown in very truth to man, thinking with
man’s wisdom, fighting with man’s strength.
He that hath never given a father’s love, hath
never done a father’s duty, hath no claim upon
his child; but she, whose untiring devotion, whose
faithful love hath watched over me, guarded, blessed
from the first hour of my life, instilled within me
the principles of life on earth and immortality in
heaven—mother! mother! will not thy gentle
virtues cling around thy boy, and save him even from
a father’s curse? Can I do else than devote
the life thou gavest, to thee, and render back with
my stronger arm, but not less firm soul, the care,
protection, love thou hast bestowed on me? Mother,
Virgin saint,” he continued aloud, flinging
himself before the shrine to which we have alluded,
“hear, oh hear my prayer! Intercede for
me above, that strength, prudence, wisdom may be granted
me in the accomplishment of my knightly vows; that
my mother, my own mother may be the first and dearest
object of my heart: life, fame, and honor I dedicate
to her. Spare me, bless me but for her; if danger,
imprisonment be unavailingly her doom, let not my spirit
waver, nor my strength flag, nor courage nor foresight
fail, till she is rescued to liberty and life.”