"Let us press forward to give freedom to the Earl of Mar!" "Liberty and Lord Mar!" cried Kirkpatrick, rushing onward.

He was immediately followed by his own men, but not quickly enough for his daring.

The guard in the tower, hearing the outcry, issued from the flanking gates, and, surrounding him, took him prisoner.
"If there be might in your arms," roared he, with the voice of a lion, "men of Loch Dione, rescue your leader!" They hurried forward, with yells of defiance; but the strength of the garrison, awakened by the flying wretches from the defeat, turned out all its power, and, with De Valence at their head, poured on Kirkpatrick's men, and would have overpowered them had not Wallace and his sixty heroes, with desperate determination, cut a passage to them through the closing ranks.
Pikes struck against corslets, swords rang on helmets, and the ponderous battle-ax, falling with the weight of fate, cleft the uplifted target in twain.

Blood spouted on every side, and the dripping hands of Kirkpatrick, as Wallace tore him from the enemy, proclaimed that he had bathed his vengeance in the stream.

On being released, he shook his ensanguined arms, and burst into a horrid laugh.
"The work speeds! Now through the heart of the governor!" Even while he spoke Wallace lost him again from his side; and again, by the shouts of the Southrons, who cried, "No quarter for the rebel!" he learned he must be retaken.