armies. As he had been the first to take arms, he was the
last to keep the field, and for some years he continued to maintain
himself among the woods and hills of the Highlands, holding his own for
more than a year after all the other chiefs had surrendered.

Edward was determined not to leave him at liberty. He feared the
influence of this one man more than of all the nobles of Scotland, and
pursued him unremittingly, a great price being offered for his head. At
length the gallant champion was captured, a Scotchman, Sir John
Menteith, earning obloquy by the act. The story goes that the capture
was made at Robroyston, near Glasgow, the fugitive champion being taken
by treachery, the signal for rushing upon him and taking him unawares
being for one of the company to turn a loaf, which lay upon the table,
with its bottom side uppermost. In after-days it was considered very
ill-breeding for any one to turn a loaf in this manner, if a person
named Menteith were at table.

However this be, it is certain that Wallace was taken and delivered to
his great enemy, and no less certain that he was treated with barbarous
harshness. He was placed on trial at Westminster Hall, on the charge of
being a traitor to the English crown, and Edward, to insult him, had him
crowned with a green garland, as one who had been king of outlaws and
robbers in the Scottish woods.

"I could not be a traitor to Edward, for I was never his subject," was
the chieftain's answer to the charge against him.

He was then accused of taking many towns and castles, killing many men,
and doing much violence.

"It is true I have killed many Englishmen," replied Wallace, "but it was
because they came to oppress my native country. Far from repenting of
this, I am only sorry not to have put to death many more of them."

Wallace's defence was a sound one, but Edward had prejudged him. He was
condemned and executed, his body being quartered, in the cruel fashion
of that time, and the parts exposed on spikes on London bridge, as the
limbs of a traitor. Thus died a hero, at the command of a tyrant.

_BRUCE AT BANNOCKBURN._

To Edward the Second, lying in luxurious idleness in his palace of
pleasure at London, came the startling word that he must strike a blow
or lose a kingdom. Scotland was slipping from his weak grasp. Of that
great realm, won by the iron hand of his father, only one stronghold was
left to England--Stirling Castle, and that was fiercely