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.

As he and Edwin reposed in a barn near Newark, a force of savages from
the Irish island of Rathlin burst in upon them. Wallace, with a giant's
strength, dispersed them as they advanced. But a shout was heard from
the door. Monteith himself appeared, and an arrow pierced Edwin's heart.
Wallace threw himself on his knees beside the dying boy. They sprang
upon him, and bound him. Wallace was Edward's prisoner.

As he lay in the Tower of London awaiting death, a page