ting to the ground. Here he was discovered by Wallace, and
recognised as the old man whom he had met in Andrew Black's hidy-hole.
The poor man could scarcely walk; but with the assistance of his stout
young friend, who carefully dressed his wounds, he managed to escape.
Wallace himself was not so fortunate. After leaving Cargill in a place
of comparative safety, he had not the heart to think only of his own
escape while uncertain of the fate of his friends. He was aware,
indeed, of his uncle's death, but knew nothing about Andrew Black,
Quentin Dick, or Ramblin' Peter. When, therefore, night had put an end
to the fiendish work, he returned cautiously to search the field of
battle; but, while endeavouring to clamber over a wall, was suddenly
pounced upon by half a dozen soldiers and made prisoner.

At an earlier part of the evening he would certainly have been murdered
on the spot, but by that time the royalists were probably tired of
indiscriminate slaughter, for they merely bound his arms and led him to
a spot where those Covenanters who had been taken prisoners were
guarded.

The guarding was of the strangest and cruellest. The prisoners were
made to lie flat down on the ground--many of them having been previously
stripped nearly naked; and if any of them ventured to change their
positions, or raise their heads to implore a draught of water, they were
instantly shot.

Next day the survivors were tied together in couples and driven off the
ground like a herd of cattle. Will Wallace stood awaiting his turn, and
watching the first band of prisoners march off. Suddenly he observed
Andrew Black coupled to Quentin Dick. They passed closed to him. As
they did so their eyes met.

"Losh, man, is that you?" exclaimed Black, a gleam of joy lighting up
his sombre visage. "Eh, but I _am_ gled to see that yer still leevin'!"

"Not more glad than I to see that you're not dead," responded Will
quickly. "Where's Peter and Bruce?"

A stern command to keep silence and move on drowned the answer, and in
another minute Wallace, with an unknown comrade-in-arms, had joined the
procession.

Thus they were led--or rather driven--with every species of cruel
indignity, to Edinburgh; but the jails there were already full; there
was no place in which to stow such noxious animals! Had Charles the
Second been there, according to his own statement, he would have had no
difficulty in dealing with them; but bad as the Council was,