Two minutes later he was ushered into the private cabinet of Robert Bruce.  The latter was seated writing, and looked up at his unknown visitor.

“Do you remember me, Sir Robert Bruce?” Archie asked.

“Methinks I know your face, sir,” the earl replied, “but I cannot recall where I have seen it.”

“It is five years since,” Archie said, “and as that time has changed me from a youth into a man I wonder not that my face has escaped you.”

“I know you now!” the earl exclaimed, rising suddenly from his seat.  “You are Sir Archibald Forbes?”

“I am,” Archie replied, “and I have come now on the same errand I came then —­ the cause of our country.  The English think she is dead, but, though faint and bleeding, Scotland yet lives; but there is one man only who can revive her, and that man is yourself.”

“Your mission is a vain one,” Bruce replied.  “Though I honour you, Sir Archibald, for your faith and constancy; though I would give much, ay all that I have, were my record one of as true patriotism and sacrifice as yours, yet it were madness to listen to you.  Have I not,” he asked bitterly, “earned the hatred of my countrymen?  Have I not three times raised my standard only to lower it again without striking a blow?  Did I not fight by Edward at the field of Falkirk?  Ah!” he said in a changed tone, “never shall I forget the horror which I felt as I passed over the field strewn with Scottish corpses.  Truly my name must be loathed in Scotland; and yet, Sir Archibald, irresolute and false as I have hitherto proved myself, believe me, I love Scotland, the land of my mother.”

“I believe you, sir,” Archie said, “and it is therefore that I implore you to listen to me.  You are now our only possible leader, our only possible king.  Baliol is a captive at Rome, his son a courtier of Edward.  Wallace is dead.  Comyn proved weak and incapable, and was unable to rally the people to offer any opposition to Edward’s last march.  Scotland needs a leader strong and valiant as Wallace, capable of uniting around him a large body, at least, of the Scotch nobles, and having some claim to her crown.  You know not, sir, how deep is the hatred of the English.  The last terrible incursion of Edward has spread that feeling far and wide, and while before it was but in a few counties of the lowlands that the flame of resistance really burnt, this time, believe me, that all Scotland, save perhaps the Comyns and their adherents, would rise at the call.  I say not that success would at once attend you, for, forgive me for saying so, the commonalty would not at first trust you; but when they saw that you were fighting for Scotland as well as for your own crown, that you had, by your action, definitely and for ever broken with the English, and had this time entered heart and soul into the cause, I am sure they would not hold back.  Your own vassals of Carrick and Annandale are a goodly array in themselves and the