CHAPTER XX.
The Cliffs of Loch Lubnaig.
In the cool of the evening, while the young chieftain was thus employed, Kenneth entered to tell him that Sir William Wallace had called out his little army, to see its strength and numbers.

Edwin's soul had become not more enamoured of the panoply of war than the gracious smiles of his admired leader, and at this intelligence he threw his plans over his brigandine, and placing a swan-plumed bonnet on his brows, hastened forth to meet his general.
The heights of Craignacoheilg echoed with thronging footsteps, and a glittering light seemed issuing from her woods, as the rays of the descending sun glanced on the arms of her assembling warriors.
The thirty followers of Murray appeared just as the two hundred Frasers entered from an opening in the rocks.

Blood mounted into his face as he compared his inferior numbers and recollected the obligation they were to repay, and the greater one he was now going to incur.

However he threw the standard worked by Helen on his shoulder, and turning to Wallace, "Behold," cried he, pointing to his men, "the poor man's mite! It is great, for it is my all!" "Great, indeed, brave Murray!" returned Wallace, "for it brings me a host in yourself." "I will not disgrace my standard!" said he, lowering the banner-staff to Wallace.

He started when he saw the flowing lock, which he could not help recognizing.