Wyseby

OF THE FIRST IRVINGS. 5
follow me Is a foul craven, — a traitor to his God, to
his king, and to his country."
Yet another week, and then, even as on this night,
the stars looked forth, quiet as though they were
eternal ; that low river was singing melodious then
as now ; and then, as now, the sweet breeze, with
its low mournful voice, was passing through space j
but then, the gorgeous full moon sailed through that
eternal, illimitable azure sky. and the earth in thou-
sand-fold loveliness smiled. " Wave thou there,
banner of the Bruce," cried a wounded warrior,
striking the staff deep into the earth. " Wave thou
there," cried he, sinking by its side. " And oh !
God of battles, may it yet lead to victory, though
victory has been denied to us this day ! And it ivill
lead to victory," cried he, exultingly, — for on his
dying senses burst the glories of succeeding years.
In high exultation the spirit of the warrior passed
away. The broad moon looked down, the intense
stars gazed, and the winds of heaven rustled in the
folds of the proud banner; but the soldier slept
soundly, for his battles were fought.
Yet four years, and there was a glad meeting at
Dunfermline. The good King Robert held his
court there. Rumour, many-tongued, bore to the
four winds tidings of Bannockburn's famous victory.
The outlaw of Carrick. is, in very truth, the king of
broad, free, happy Scotland. He held court in Dun-
fermline. The Douglas was there ; Randolph was
there ; peerless matrons and maidens were there ;
valiant knights were there ; the beauty, the chivalry ?
the strength of the nation were there. In high hall,
in the middle of that proud throng, g-reat in prospe-
rity as in adversity, sat King Bruce.