The night had not turned out as he had fancied it would. He had missed the charms of sweet Ellen. But who knew, perhaps there was a better way in which it could have been spent and this was it.


* * *

Ellen opened the door. Two guards stepped into the house.

‘What do you want?’ she asked.

‘We want you, Mistress.’

‘What, now?’ she demanded, thinking they had come to take her by force. That, she would fight against with all her might. She liked men; she enjoyed her pleasures with them; but they should never be taken by force if she could help it.

But she was mistaken. They were on another mission.

She was to go with them, they told her, because their masters had something to say to her.

She was taken to stand before Captain Heron and his aide, Butler. They surveyed her coldly with none of that admiration to which she was accustomed.

‘You are on good terms with the traitor Wallace,’ said the Captain.

‘Wallace?’ she wrinkled her brows. ‘Who is he?’

‘Come, Mistress, that will not do. He is your lover. He slept in your bed last night. He came disguised as a priest. We know of this.’

‘You are mistaken.’

One of the guards caught her arm and twisted it backwards. She cried out in pain. ‘How dare you—’ she began.

Her face was slapped.

That to Ellen, who had never had anything but the desiring hands of men laid on her, was a violent shock. She knew then that she was in serious trouble.

‘Listen to me, woman,’ said the Captain, ‘we know that you are a friend of William Wallace. We know that he visits you. Do not deny it. If you hold anything back from us, it will go ill with you. Do you know what we do to women like you? I will tell you. We shall roll you up in a bale of hay and set fire to it.’

‘You could not,’ she stammered.

‘Could we not? We shall see. Bring in the hay.’

It was true. They had it ready. ‘It would be a waste of such pleasant flesh,’ said the Captain wryly. ‘Come, be sensible, girl. Wallace visited you in the guise of a priest last night. When does he come again?’

‘He … will not come again.’

‘He came last night did he not?’

She did not speak and he signed for them to bring the hay.

‘Yes … yes,’ she said quickly. ‘He came last night.’

‘And when does he come again?’

She was silent. They seized her and two of them threw the bale of hay at her feet.

‘Tonight,’ she cried. ‘He comes tonight.’

They released her.

‘When he comes,’ the Captain said, ‘you will hold him there. Divest him of his clothes … That will be no difficult task, I am sure. Then when he is in your bed, before you join him put a rush light in your window. It shall be our signal to come and take him.’

She stammered, ‘I cannot do it …’

‘You will do it,’ she was told. ‘And if you do not you know what awaits you. Do your duty and we shall not forget you. You will be rich. We shall not forget. There is a high price on his head. It is time a woman like you had a husband so that she does not have to rely on any pleasant-looking man who comes her way. Deliver Wallace to us and Lord Percy himself will want to thank you. He will find a man who will marry you. A knight no less, and he shall be a man of your choice. So you see, Mistress, great good can come to you … great good or cruel death. Remember it.’

Ellen went thoughtfully back to her home. Marriage with a goodly knight. A fortune. Never again to wander through the town returning the glances which came her way … looking for a handsome gentleman. A steady husband, a man who could give her fine clothes … that for the betrayal of Wallace.

She knew what she had to do. They were afraid of him. They wanted him bereft of his clothes so that they could take him easily. So had Delilah betrayed Samson.

She waited for him. He came as he said he would. She opened the door and there stood her priest.

‘It was dangerous to come,’ she said.

‘Would I not risk danger for a night with you? ’Tis worth it, fair Ellen.’

She led him to the bedchamber. Her heart was beating fast. It would soon be over. She thought of him as he had been when they brought him in from the midden. Her mother had said: ‘He is William Wallace, the greatest man in Scotland’; and they had been proud of him. She had been proud of him. Her mother was now sleeping in her room. She knew of course that men visited her daughter. It was a way of life and it brought them comforts. She had not told her mother that Wallace had come last night. She would have done so, of course, but they had taken her off to be questioned, and when she came back she did not want to alarm her mother.

They went to her attic. It would all be so easy. She could feign ignorance. But he would say, ‘Why do you put a light in your window?’ and she would answer, ‘Because I wish to see you. I see so little of you. I want to feast my eyes on you while I can.’

Then soon they would come to take him …

She had loved him in her light and easy way as she had loved many men, but never one quite like William Wallace. She did not like to think of men being tortured. Men were not meant for that. Why could they not all live comfortably together? There was so much in life that was good.

He lay there naked on her bed. Now was the time. Set the rush light in the window … and wait.

They could not be far off now. They were out there looking at her window waiting for the sign.

‘I cannot do it,’ she cried suddenly. She sat on the bed and covered her face with her hands.

‘What ails you, Ellen?’ he asked.

‘They are coming to take you. They have threatened to burn me in a bale of hay if I do not deliver you to them. I am afraid … but I cannot do it.’

He was off the bed. ‘They are coming for me! When?’

‘Now. There is no time. They are waiting for the signal.’

In a second he had grasped the situation. He had the answer as she had known he would. ‘Strip off your clothes, Ellen,’ he said.

She did so and he put them on. They were too small of course but he covered their inadequacy with a big cloak as he had once done with a shawl at the spinning wheel. Then he set one of her hats on his head.

‘They will kill me,’ she said.

‘No, they will not. I am going to tie you to the bedpost. You must tell them that I had wind of the plot and that I made you strip and give me your clothes. I then put them on and tied you up. So that you could not give the signal. Now I will leave you. There is nothing to fear. I’ll see you again before long.’

He went out of the cottage. He ran shouting to the guards in a falsetto voice remarkably like that of Ellen.

Two of them appeared. He pointed to the cottage. ‘He is in there. He is naked … Go in and take him.’

The alarm was given. The two guards were not going in alone. They knew Wallace. As speedily as they could they got a band of them together and stormed the cottage.

Ellen told them how she had been following their instructions when Wallace had suddenly seized her and tied her up. So well did she tell her story and so appealing did she look half dressed and in distress that they untied her and reassured her that no harm would come to her, before making off to catch the impudent fugitive. Before they were assembled he had reached his horse, untethered it and was galloping off to join his faithful band in the wood.


* * *

It was a warning. He could not go on chancing to luck to extract himself from such situations. It could quite easily have been the end. It would have been easy for Ellen to have put the light in the window and for them to come and take him.

If they had, what would be happening to him now? It would be the end of his dream as it had come very near to being when they had thrust him into jail.

He must take care. He must not involve himself in these reckless situations.

Thank God, Ellen had been loyal to him at the end – but Heaven knew how near she had come to betraying him. The devils, to threaten her with burning – and it was a sentence they would have carried out, too.

He discussed the affair with Stephen and Karlé, who were horrified. There would be a bigger hue and cry after him than ever, so he must lie low for a while. They should leave this place at once and find another wood to shelter them.

He agreed and they left the woods with all speed and made their way towards Lanarkshire.

There he with his men remained in obscurity for some time, and the English deceived themselves into thinking that his near-capture had subdued him to such an extent that his one desire was to keep out of their way. When no more convoys were robbed for a few weeks a rumour was circulated that he had been drowned while attempting to cross the Forth near Stirling for it was said if he had crossed by the bridge there he could not have failed to have been seen.

He liked to go into the town though, and found it difficult to stay away, and when they were encamped near Lanark he often went in disguised, sometimes as a pilgrim, sometimes as a farmer. He enjoyed sitting in the taverns and listening to the talk.

It was thus he heard of the unpopularity of Sheriff Heselrig who was as harsh a man as could be found throughout the country, he was told. King Edward should have been more careful of the men he sent to guard the garrison towns, for so many of them were such as to breed rebellion wherever they went.

‘Tell me of this Heselrig,’ he said. ‘Tell me what he has done to make the townsfolk of Lanark hate him so much.’