It led through the ballium, to the platform before the citadel.

Lord Andrew returned to his uncle and aunt, and informing them of this discovery, gave his arm to Lord Mar, while Kirkpatrick led forward the agitated countess.

At this moment the sun rose behind the purple summit of Ben Lomond.
When they approached the citadel, Wallace and Sir Alexander Scrymgeour had just gained its summit.

The standard of Edward was yet flying.
Wallace looked at it for a moment; then laying his hand on the staff, "Down, thou red dragon," cried he, "and learn to bow before the Giver of all victory!" Even while speaking, he rent it from the roof; and casting it over the battlements, planted the lion of Scotland in its stead.
As its vast evolvements floated on the air, the cry of triumph, the loud clarion of honest triumph, burst from every heart, horn, and trumpet below.

It was a shout that pierced the skies, and entered the soul of Wallace with a bliss which seemed a promise of immortality.
"O God!" cried he, still grasping the staff, and looking up to heaven; "we got not this in possession through our own might, but thy right hand and the light of thy countenance overthrew the enemy! Thine the conquest, thine the glory!" "Thus we consecrate the day to thee, Power of Heaven!" rejoined Scrymgeour.