Chapter XXII.

Dumbarton Rock.

All obeyed the voice of their commander, and retired to rest. But the

eyes of Edwin could not close; his eager spirit was already on the

walls of Dumbarton. His rapid mind anticipated the ascent of his

general and his troop. But an imagination no less just than ardent

suggested the difficulties attending so small a force assailing so

formidable a garrison, without some immediate knowledge of its relative

situations. A sudden thought struck him. He would mount that rock

alone; he would seek to ascertain the place of Lord Mar's confinement;

that not one life in Wallace's faithful band might be lost in a vague

search.

"Ah! my general," exclaimed he, "Edwin shall be the first to spring

those ramparts; he shall tread that dangerous path alone; and when he

has thus proved himself no unworthy of thy confidence, he will return

to lead thee and thy soldiers to a sure victory, and himself to honor

by thy side!"

This fervant apostrophe, breathed to the night alone, was no sooner

uttered, than he stole from the thicket into which he had cast himself

to respose. He looked toward the embattled cliff; its summit stood

bright in the moonlight, but deep shadows lay beneath. "God be my

speed!" cried he, and wrapping himself in his plaid, so mixed its dark

hues with the weeds and herbage at the base of the rock, that he made

its circuit without having attracted observation.

The south side seemed the easiest of ascent and by that he began his

daring attempt. Having gained the height, he clambered behind a

buttress, the shadow of which cast the wall into such black obscurity,

that he crept safely through one of its crenelles, and dropping gently

inward, alighted on his feet. Still keeping the shadowed side of the

battlements, he proceeded cautiously along, and so still was his motion

that he passed undiscovered, even by the sentinels who guarded this

quarter of the fortress.

He soon arrived at the open square before the citadel; it was yet

occupied by groups of Southron officers, gayly walking to and fro under

the light of the moon. In hopes of gaining some useful information

from their discourse, he concealed himself behind a chest of arrows;

and as they passed backward and forward, distinctly heard them jesting

each other about divers fair dames of the country around. The

conversation terminated in a debate, whether or no the indifference

which their governor De Valence manifested to the majestic beauties of

the Countess of Mar were real or assumed. A thousand free remarks were

made on the subject, and Edwin gathered sufficient from the discourse,

to understand that the earl and countess were treated severely, and

confined in a large, square tower in the cleft of the rock.

Having learned all that he could expect from these officers, he

speeded, under the friendly shadow, toward the other side of the

citadel, and arrived just as the guard approached to relieve the

sentinels of the northern postern. He laid himself close to the

ground, and happily overheard the word of the night, as it was given to

the new watch. This providential circumstances saved his life.

Finding no mode of egress from this place but by the postern at which

the sentinel was stationed, or by attempting a passage through a small

adjoining tower, the door of which stood open, he considered a moment,

and then deciding for the tower, stole unobserved into it. Fortunately

no person was there; but Edwin found it full of spare arms, with two or

three vacant couches in different corners, where he supposed the

officers on guard occassionally reposed; several watch-cloaks lay on

the floor. He readily apprehended the use he might make of this

circumstance, and throwing one of them over his shoulders climbed to a

large embrasure in the wall, and, forcing himself through it, dropped

to a declivity on the other side, which shelved down to the cliff,

wherein he saw the square tower.

He had scarcely alighted on firm ground, when a sentinel, followed by

two others presented pikes, approached him, and demanded the word.

"Montjoy!" was his reply. "Why leap the embrasure?" said one. "Why

not enter by the postern?" demanded another. The conversation of the

officers had given him a hint, on which he had formed his answer.

"Love, my brave comrades," replied he, "seldom chooses even ways. I go

on a message from a young ensign in the keep, to one of the Scottish

damsels in yonder tower. Delay me, and his vengeance will fall upon us

all." "Good luck to you, my lad!" was their answer, and, with a

lightened step, he hastened toward the tower.

Not deeming it safe to seek an interview with any of the earl's family,

he crept along the base of the structure, and across the works, till he

reached the high wall that blocks up egress from the north. He found

this formidable curtain constructed of fragments of rock, and for the

convenience of the guard, a sloping platform from within led to the top

of the wall. On the other side it was perpendicular. A solitary

sentinel stood there; and how to pass him was Edwin's next device. To

attack him would be desparate; being one of a chain of guards around

the interior of the fortress, his voice need only to be raised in the

least to call a regiment to his assistance, and Edwin might be seized

on the instant.

Aware of his danger, but not dismayed, the adventurous youth bethought

him of his former excuse; and remembering a flask of spirits which

Ireland had put into his pouch on leaving Glenfinlass, he affected to

be intoxicated, and staggering up to the man, accosted him in the

character of a servant of the garrison.

The sentinel did not doubt the appearance of the boy, and Edwin,

holding out the flask, said that a pretty girl in the great tower had

not only given him a long draught of the same good liquor but had

filled his bottle, that he might not lack amusement, while her

companion; one of Lady Mar's maids-in-waiting, was tying up a true

lover's knot to send to his master in the garrison. The man believed

Edwin's tale, and the more readily as he thrust the flask into his

hand, and bade him drink. "Do not spare it," cried he; "the night is

chilly, and I shall get more where that came from."

The unsuspecting Southron returned him a merry reply, and putting the

flask to his head, soon drained its contents. They had the effect

Edwin desired. The soldier became flustered, and impatient of his

duty. Edwin perceived it, and yawning, complained of drowsiness. "I

would go to the top of that wall, and sleep sweetly in the moonbeams,"

said he, "if any goodnatured fellow would meanwhile wait for my pretty

Scot!"

The half-inebriated Southron liked no better sport, and regardless of

duty, he promised to draw nearer the tower, and bring from the fair

messenger the expected token.

Having thus far gained his point, with an apparently staggering, but

really agile step, Edwin ascended the wall. A leap from this dizzy

height was his only way to rejoin Wallace. To retread his steps

through the fortress in safety would hardly be possible, and, besides,

such a mode of retreat would leave him uninformed on the second object

of his enterprise-to know the most vulnerable side of the fortress. He

threw himself along the summit of the wall as if to sleep. He looked

down and saw nothing but the blackness of space, for here the broad

expanse of shadow rendered rocks and building of the same hue and

level. But hope buoyed him in her arms, and turning his eyes toward

the sentinel, he observed him to have arrived within a few paces of the

square tower. This was Edwin's moment: grasping the projecting stone

of the embattlement, and commending himself to Heaven, he threw himself

from its summit, and fell a fearful depth to the cliffs beneath.

Meanwhile Wallace, having seen his brave followers depart to their

respose, reclined himself along a pile of moss grown stones, which in

the days of the renowned Fingal, had covered the body of some valiant

Morven chieftain. He fixed his wakeful eyes on the castle, now

illumined in every part by the fullness of the moon's luster, and

considered which point would be most assailable by the scaling-ladders

he had prepared. Every side seemed a precipice; the Leven, surrounding

it on the north and the west; the Clyde, broad as a sea, on the south.

The only place that seemed at all accessible was the side next the dike

behind which he lay. Here the ascent to the castellated part of the

rock, because most perpendicular, was the least guarded with outworks,

and by this he determined to make the attempt as soon as the setting

moon should involve the garrison in darkness.

While he yet mused on what might be the momentous consequences of the

succeeding midnight hours, he thought he heard a swift though cautious

footstep. He raised himself, and laying his hands on his sword, saw a

figure advancing toward him.

"Who goes there?" demanded Wallace.

"A faithful Scot," was the reply.

Wallace recognized the voice of Edwin.

"What has disturbed you? Why do you not take rest with the others?"

"That we may have it the surer to-morrow!" replied the youth. "I am

just returned from the summit of yonder rock."

"How!" interrupted Wallace; "have you scaled it alone, and are returned

in safety?"

Wallace caught him in his arms. "Intrepid, glorious boy! tell me for

what purpose did you thus hazard your precious life?"

"I wished to learn its most pregnable part," replied Edwin, his young

heart beating with triumph at these encomiums from his commander; "and

particularly where the good earl is confined, that we might make our

attack directly to the point."

"And have you been successful?" demanded Wallace.

"I have," was his answer. "Lord Mar and his lady are kept in a square

tower which stands in the cleft between the two summits of the rock.

It is not only surrounded by embattled walls, which flank the ponderous

buttresses of this huge dungeon, but the space on which it stands is

bulwarked at each end by a stone curtain of fifteen feet high, guarded

by turrets full of armed men.

"And yet by that side you suppose we must ascend?" said Wallace.

"Certainly; for if you attempt it on the west, we should have to scale

the watch-tower cliff, and the ascent could only be gained in file. An

auxiliary detachment, to attack in flank, might succeed there; but the

passage being so narrow, would be too tedious for the whole party to

arrive in time. Should we take the south, we must cut through the whole

garrison before we could reach the earl. And on this side, the morass

lies too near the foot of the rock to admit an approach without the

greatest danger. But on the north, where I descended, by wading

through part of the Leven, and climbing from cliff to cliff, I have

every hope you may succeed."

Edwin recounted the particulars of his progress through the fortress;

and by the minuteness of his topographical descriptions, enforced his

arguments for the north to be the point assailed. Closing his

narrative, he explained to the anxious inquiry of Wallace how he had

escaped accident in a leap of so many feet. The wall was covered with

ivy; he caught by its branches in his descent, and at last happily fell

amongst a thick bed of furze. After this, he clambered down the steep,

and fording the Leven (there only knee deep), now appeared before his

general, elate in heart, and bright in valor.

"The intrepidity of this action," returned Wallace, glowing with

admiration at so noble a daring in so young a creature, "merits that

every confidence should be placed in the result of your observations.

Your safe return is a pledge of our design being approved. And when we

go in the strength of Heaven, who can doubt the issue? This night,

when the Lord of battles puts that fortress into our hands, before the

whole of our little army you shall receive that knighthood you have so

richly deserved. Such, my truly dear brother, my noble Edwin, shall be

the reward of your virtue and your toil."

Wallace would now have sent him to respose himself; but animated by the

success of his adventure, and exulting in the honor which was so soon

to stamp a sign of this exploit upon him forever, he told his leader

that he felt no want of sleep, and would rather take on him the office

of arousing the other captains to their stations, the moon, their

preconcerted signal, being then approaching its rest.

The Scottish Chiefs · 第 22 / 89 章