‘Now. There is no time. They are waiting for the signal.’

In a second he had grasped the situation. He had the answer as she had known he would. ‘Strip off your clothes, Ellen,’ he said.

She did so and he put them on. They were too small of course but he covered their inadequacy with a big cloak as he had once done with a shawl at the spinning wheel. Then he set one of her hats on his head.

‘They will kill me,’ she said.

‘No, they will not. I am going to tie you to the bedpost. You must tell them that I had wind of the plot and that I made you strip and give me your clothes. I then put them on and tied you up. So that you could not give the signal. Now I will leave you. There is nothing to fear. I’ll see you again before long.’

He went out of the cottage. He ran shouting to the guards in a falsetto voice remarkably like that of Ellen.

Two of them appeared. He pointed to the cottage. ‘He is in there. He is naked … Go in and take him.’

The alarm was given. The two guards were not going in alone. They knew Wallace. As speedily as they could they got a band of them together and stormed the cottage.

Ellen told them how she had been following their instructions when Wallace had suddenly seized her and tied her up. So well did she tell her story and so appealing did she look half dressed and in distress that they untied her and reassured her that no harm would come to her, before making off to catch the impudent fugitive. Before they were assembled he had reached his horse, untethered it and was galloping off to join his faithful band in the wood.


* * *

It was a warning. He could not go on chancing to luck to extract himself from such situations. It could quite easily have been the end. It would have been easy for Ellen to have put the light in the window and for them to come and take him.

If they had, what would be happening to him now? It would be the end of his dream as it had come very near to being when they had thrust him into jail.

He must take care. He must not involve himself in these reckless situations.

Thank God, Ellen had been loyal to him at the end – but Heaven knew how near she had come to betraying him. The devils, to threaten her with burning – and it was a sentence they would have carried out, too.

He discussed the affair with Stephen and Karlé, who were horrified. There would be a bigger hue and cry after him than ever, so he must lie low for a while. They should leave this place at once and find another wood to shelter them.

He agreed and they left the woods with all speed and made their way towards Lanarkshire.

There he with his men remained in obscurity for some time, and the English deceived themselves into thinking that his near-capture had subdued him to such an extent that his one desire was to keep out of their way. When no more convoys were robbed for a few weeks a rumour was circulated that he had been drowned while attempting to cross the Forth near Stirling for it was said if he had crossed by the bridge there he could not have failed to have been seen.

He liked to go into the town though, and found it difficult to stay away, and when they were encamped near Lanark he often went in disguised, sometimes as a pilgrim, sometimes as a farmer. He enjoyed sitting in the taverns and listening to the talk.

It was thus he heard of the unpopularity of Sheriff Heselrig who was as harsh a man as could be found throughout the country, he was told. King Edward should have been more careful of the men he sent to guard the garrison towns, for so many of them were such as to breed rebellion wherever they went.

‘Tell me of this Heselrig,’ he said. ‘Tell me what he has done to make the townsfolk of Lanark hate him so much.’

‘Hush, be careful what you say,’ was the answer. ‘Speak in whispers.’

He immediately lowered his voice and his informant went on. ‘There is a beautiful maiden – the heiress of Lamington – living here. She is renowned for her wealth as well as her beauty.’

‘Tell me more of her.’

‘The Sheriff persecutes her. She is a brave lassie and will not agree to his demands.’

‘And what does he demand?’

‘Her hand for his son.’

‘What, a good Scottish lassie to marry an Englishman!’

‘Oh, aye, if she is rich enough.’

‘And she is very rich.’

‘Heiress to old Hew Bradfute. Hew died three years back and young Hew was to have inherited … and would have … had he lived.’

‘Young Hew …?’

‘The beauty’s brother. He met his death one dark night … His body was found lying in an alley. A brawl, they said, but it is whispered …’

‘Yes, please tell me what is whispered.’

‘Who are you? You ask too many questions.’

‘Just a man with a little land to farm who comes into the town now and then and likes a bit of chatter. Come, sir, tell me about young Hew and how you think he met his death.’

‘Oh, ’tis not for me to say, sir. It’s just in the mind – that’s all.’

‘Come tell me more.’

‘Well, ’tis whispered here that Sheriff Heselrig, wanting the Bradfute money, had the idea that if it belonged to the maiden, his son might marry her and so it would pass to his family. That weren’t possible while young Hew lived for he was his father’s right and natural heir.’

‘And how goes this matter?’

‘She is a bold brave maid, is Marion Bradfute. She swears she’ll have none of the Sheriff’s son.’

‘I should like to see her.’

‘Then you should go to the kirk one Sunday. She is always there.’

The story of the brave Scots lassie and the importuning English Sheriff appealed to Wallace’s imagination. He didn’t trust that Sheriff. Sooner or later he would force his son on the lass.

The next Sunday he was in the church. He did not need to ask who was Marion Bradfute. It was obvious. She was richly gowned as became an heiress and indeed she was beautiful. He had never seen such a beautiful girl. Ellen, who had seemed so desirable, was common clay beside her.

She was aware of his scrutiny and blushed a little, but it was clear that he had made some impression on her.

The next Sunday he was in church again; he noticed that she whispered with her maid and he guessed they were talking of him. When they left the church he followed them at a discreet distance. They went through a gate, beyond which lay the fine mansion which had aroused the cupidity of the Sheriff. He knocked boldly on the gate.

It was opened by an old man who demanded his business and he replied that he required to see Mistress Bradfute on an urgent mater. Who was he? was the question. He answered that he would tell that to Mistress Bradfute and he believed that she would then know him.

The old man shook his head and went away leaving William outside the gate. In a few moments the maid who had accompanied her mistress to the church came out. She did not seem greatly surprised to see him. They must have known that he had followed them.

She bade him enter and he followed her into the house.

In the hall with its vaulted roof and high table at one end on the dais, Marion Bradfute was waiting for him.

‘Who are you?’ she asked. ‘And why do you come here?’

He hesitated only briefly and said: ‘I am William Wallace.’

Her eyes opened wide and he noticed how beautifully blue they were, set off by long dark lashes.

She smiled suddenly. ‘I think I knew,’ she said. ‘You are welcome. I should like to talk to you.’

She looked about her. ‘Let us go to the solarium,’ she said. And she called to her maid to bring refreshment for them.

She led the way up a ladder-like staircase to the solarium, a sunny room as its name suggested because of the two big windows cut into a bay at either end. It was indeed a grand place such as he had rarely seen in Scotland.

She went to the window and sat down implying that he might sit beside her, which he did.

She said, ‘You know of me?’

‘I know that you are Mistress Bradfute, noted for your beauty.’

‘And my wealth,’ she answered. ‘I have come to be afraid of that.’

‘You are in some trouble, I know that too. I have chatted in taverns and learned what I could.’

‘What are you, the hero of Scotland, doing in taverns?’

‘Biding my time when I can rise up and turn the English from our country.’

‘You come here in disguise.’

‘That is necessary, Mistress. There is a price on my head and you are unwise to let me into your house.’

‘In a way there is a price on mine. Sir William Wallace, I have long admired you along with thousands of Scots.’

‘I want more from Scots than admiration, Mistress. I want them to join my banner. When I have an army I promise you Scotland’s humiliation will be over.’

‘You will subdue the English, I know it. I am proud to have spoken to you.’

‘I have never seen a girl as beautiful as you,’ he replied.

She smiled, well pleased. ‘It is my fortune the Sheriff wants for his son.’

‘I have heard that you resist him.’

‘Yes, but I fear him very much. I believe he killed my brother.’

‘I had heard this too.’

‘I wonder what ruse he will employ to trick me.’

‘You are surrounded by good servants?’

‘Yes, they have been with my family for many years. They hate the English oppressors.’

‘Has he threatened you?’

‘No. I have warded him off with crafty talk. I have not said I will not marry his son – but I am determined not to.’

‘I shall gather together a force and march into the town.’

‘Have you such a force?’

‘I have followers … as yet not enough. But the time will come when I have an army behind me.’

She put out her hand: he took it and kissed it.

‘How glad I am that you came. I feel less afraid already.’

She had risen, implying that it was time he went. She did not wish the servants to gossip – even though she trusted them.

He saw that he must take his leave though he longed to stay.

‘I will be back,’ he said. ‘May I come tomorrow? We will discuss this matter further and if you should need me urgently send a man you can trust to the Lanark woods. There he will find me.’

He was amazed that he had trusted her so deeply. But afterwards he understood, for he could not stop thinking of her.

On the next day he called again and they discussed her affairs at length. He talked glowingly of his plans and recounted his past adventures.

She listened entranced. So these legends she had heard of William Wallace were true.

By the end of the week they were in love.


* * *

They walked together in the enclosed garden.

He said, ‘You know I love you.’

She nodded.

‘And you?’ he asked.

‘I love you,’ she answered.

‘What bliss this is … to be together! I would we could be together always, but failing that we must make the most of what time there is together.’

But she was no Ellen.

‘If we were married you could not live as you do now,’ she reminded him.

Marriage! He had not thought of marriage. How could a man dedicated as he was, settle down to a normal married life with a wife and family?

He was silent and she said, ‘Ah, I see you do not want to marry me.’

He said, ‘I would I could. But I am a man dedicated to a cause and it would be no good life for the woman who married me.’

‘Then,’ she replied firmly, ‘we must say goodbye, for though I love you truly I would never be your leman. If we cannot marry then that is the end for us. We cannot meet like this if our love is to be unfulfilled.’

William was plunged into deepest melancholy. ‘Oh, my God,’ he cried, ‘if I had not vowed to drive the English from my country … how happy I should be to marry you. But I have vowed solemnly that I shall not rest until I have saved my country.’

‘I understand well,’ she said sadly. ‘Marriage is not for you, William Wallace, and as no other course will do for me, let us say goodbye. Let us make it short. There is no point in lingering.’

‘I shall never leave you to the Sheriff’s son.’

She laughed bitterly. ‘It is strange that he whom I hate should be so eager to marry me and he whom I love reject me for a cause. Goodbye, William.’

‘Nay,’ he cried. ‘It is not goodbye. I shall watch over you. If you are in need you have only to send for me. I am going to avenge your brother. I am going to capture Lanark and drive Sheriff Heselrig out of it. I will be back.’