Oh, what a shout rung forth from those iron ranks! There was that noble face, pale, attenuated indeed, but beaming on them in all its wonted animation, confidence, and love; there was that majestic form towering again in its princely dignity, seeming the nobler from being so long unseen.

Again and again that shout arose, till the wild birds rose screaming over our heads, in untuned, yet exciting chorus.

Nor did the fact that the king, strengthened as he was by his own glorious soul, had in reality not bodily force enough to mount his horse without support, take from the enthusiasm of his men, nay, it was heightened and excited to the wildest pitch.

'For Scotland and freedom!' shouted the king, as for one moment he rose in his stirrups and waved his bright blade above his head.

'For Bruce and Scotland!' swelled the answering shout.