haughtily, and more addressing himself than his companion," who talks of hazards when Richard of Bourdeaux is my fast friend? What though Sir Lionel be Lord of the broad acres of Helmhurst, and by my thrice abhorred espousals with Rosamund Biddulph, has some claim to term me fair brother, was she not ever a fantastic, peevish woman? was I not her thrall? a very boy to be whipped with splenetic upbraidings whenever my feet wandered to another bower? For the two tedious years I wore her chain, was not our bed barren, as our board was delightless? And is she not now dead?to the world at least," he added, in a fierce but subdued tone, as he caught his follower's grim smile. He paused, and continued. "Tis true, the Bishop loves me not at heart, and, could he find a pretext to evade the will of his sovereign, would think lightly of ennobling his family though with the house of Courtnaye; he would fain, forsooth, leave his pretty orphan niece to the guidance of her own free choice."

"To the choice namely," said Warner, "of such a haggard as the Knight of Helmhurst? read I not that scornful look aright, my Lord of Courtnaye? Yet he may be scorned and safely,- -a vision. ary fool of chivalrous dreams."

Nay, Warner, wrong not Lionel Biddulph, he is brave."

"Granted, my Lord; but he lacks the wisdom to make bravery a thing of price; squares every thing by what he terms the rule of right, and would rather die a saintly martyr, than become by hardihood a golden-helmed warrior."

66

By plunder, thou wouldst say, gentle Captain?"

"Name it as you will--him you might easily overcrow; but the Franciscanthis Warden of the Minorites, my Lord ?" "Well! and the Franciscan? True, he has had an audience with De Burghill, and has proffered disclosures which might relieve the worthy Dominican from his present dilemma between gratitude to his king and love for his niece."

"Add also, between his liking to Sir Lionel, and his aversion to the (so called) wild Lord Walter de Courtnaye."

"And let him feel aversion, so long as he dares not profess it against him whom King Richard delights to honour!" "But did not Father John,-I cry mercy! I mean his translated Lordship of Landaff,-did he not seize on the proposal of the Warden??'

"Far from it! a certain wrong-headed onesty, a quality not to be found in hy rubric, Captain,-made him coldly decline any private allegations against a

person of such high rank (I thank him!) and so high in the king's favour (I thank the king!) as the Baron de Courtnaye!"

A pause of some minutes ensued, when Warner once more interrupted the moody Lord.

Why, then, the Dominican is fighting for you with one weapon, while he supplies your adversary with another."

"Not so! to-morrow thou knowest is his enthronement, and the old Minister of Saint Mary and Saint Chad never witnessed, I warrant thee, a pomp like that which will usher him into her broad aisles!"

Still, Lord Baron," said Warner, and his bold eye surveyed the dusky mansion, which displayed its massy front in the twilight, amid the gloomy tossing boughs, with as much uneasiness as he durst display to the fiery noble," still you say not the result of the Warder's interview"

66

Simply this, the Lord Bishop is to give him public audience in the very Cathedral itself,-before the Plantagenet and his whole court-nobles, prelates, abbots! in a word, the mighty secret is to be told to whoever chooses to hear it."

"Then, I conclude, your lordship relies on your faithful Warner to close this dangerous friar's mouth, lest his falsehood bring peril to his soul, or breathe an imputation on the heir of the long line of De Courtnaye?"

"There needs not, man!-'tis done already. But, Captain, certes thou art a niggard to-night! thou lookest at those old gables and pinnacles as if they contained a magician, instead of the blazing fire, the savoury haunch, and the luscious pigment that is to refresh thy master!"

Warner checked his steed at the word, but as suddenly spurring him, he executed a la volta that only shewed his rider's perfect masterdom.

"If I seem a niggard, my lord, it is from the fear that these old and desolate halls will scarcely afford that refreshment and repose, which may present the most favoured and the handsomest knight of all King Richard's court in his best favour, before the dames and maidens of Lichfield to-morrow."

'Tis well, Robert ;-but is it not strange that thou hast never asked me why I drew thee from the high road, and those cheery lodgings at the Golden Horse in Hedgford, where we have the brownest old ale, the snuggest couches, and the most debonnaire damsels to wait our bidding, for thine ill-looking hold, which thou visitest es rarely as an owl the sun shine1 When I proposed it, thy brow lowered,

even as now; and had I not matter of weight to divert me hither, I had scarce withstood the reluctance thou didst betray in making a Norman nobleman the guest

of a robber chief."

"Now, by my father's beard!" Warner was fiercely beginning, when he changed as suddenly.- -"Your lordship hath reason to know that I never offer words of expostulation where deeds may stand instead. This old house shall always welcome you, if cold cheer, ragged tapestry, clattering windows, and doors that are equally divided with myself between admitting and excluding guests, are over-matched in your mind by the hot meat, the mantling flaggon, and the hearty welcome I can still afford you! Would he were," he continued internally," in the deepest pool of the forest ere he taxed either of them!"

"To bring the matter to a close," said Lord Courtnaye, with an air in which badinage strove with a slight tinge of embarrassment, 66 as we are now about to tumble into the moat,-and in sooth thy manor hall of Edial is none of the most inviting, Mercy on me! those tall chimneys and frowning parapets sympathize with thee in showing me small welcome! -and that straggling clock-tower, too! But now, Robert, what would'st thou say if I told thee I had sent, before, certain well-stored purveyors to give us welcome here?"

Warner's bold and fierce face blanked at once, and he looked absolutely aghast; his lips parted, and the large white teeth between, made him appear a perfect heraldic head.

"The fiends are not so unemployed!" he exclaimed, as if to himself."Know ye not, Baron of Courtnaye, that the sun himself scarcely dares visit these old towers, such is the protecting gloom this great forest throws around them?-Their moat knows only the green faces of the boughs, and their chambers have not light to thank the day for! Midnight alone confesses that they are inhabited, and midnight alone looks gladdened at their inhabitants."

“The Franciscan is here, however," said Courtnaye, endeavouring to brave with affected coolness the agitation of the robber chief.

"The Franciscan,my lord!-you have not been so mad?" exclaimed Warner; and then throwing off all restraint," if, at least, you have, I wash my hands of you and your plots! Was it not enough that you assumed so arrogantly as to drag me to mine own house, whither you were not invited? Nay, frown not, proud peer!-at least I am only your inferior in

guilt; in pride of heart, ay, in power, I am your equal; and in thews and sinews, your superior-far your superior, though I must own, your lordship's title is rather written in your own dark bosom, than blazoned, as I bear mine, boldly on my breast!"

The Baron Walter chafed, but inly, and then soothingly said.

"A most sublime bravado, truly! and if words could win an escutcheon, nay, a coronet, truly, good Robert, thou wert not far from the peerage. Nay, clutch not that honourable belt of thine, nor plunge so pitilessly thy knightly spurs into thy jaded steed! Thou knowest I um in thy power; and, for my part, if thou wilt only refrain from shewing those boar's tusks for the future, when I take some freedom with thee or thy place of rest, I will frankly forgive thee the rash speech thou hast directed against a born and descended nobleman !"

Warner had by this time recovered somewhat of his presence of mind, and muttering sullenly about his apprehension of ill provisions, he sounded a horn suspended at the outer portal of the drawbridge, it was answered by a deeply clanging bell from the single and aspiring tower that rose in the centre of the building; lights glanced from window to window of the old hall, till now so blank and dismal, the drawbridge fell, and the clattering horse-hoofs, the thundering gates, and voices in various tones, ushered under an umbered blaze of torch-light the travellers to their abode for the night.

The wild and sonorous gusts of a September evening were just beginning to swell around the old neglected rooms of Edial Hall; a pale lamp glimmered in one apartment, which we must now approach. It was vaulted; the roof had been painted with the Fight of Roncesvalles, but time and damp had much effaced the once glowing colours. Where the painting ended, a gaudy tapestry suspended on pegs round the chamber, still showed in its fading colours various legends of monkish or romantic fiction. A few brands lay half expiring on the hearth

the narrow lancet windows seemed nearly ready to burst with the windwhile the rain, which began to patter on the horn lattice, trickled even on the floor. The sole tenant of this dismal apartment was a man of stately mein, somewhat advanced in years, habited in the dress of the Gray Friars or Minorites, as they were called.

Solitude, however, seemed to be anything than tranquillity to him; the frequent and apparently forced application he made to a broad parchment manus

script which, at the slightest noise, he thrust hastily into the innermost folds of his raiment, could scarcely control his agitation; ever, and anon he would pace the room, survey the grim tapestried walls around him, and seem as though he wish ed for the wings of a dove to emancipate him from his thraldom. In the midst of his agitation he sank upon his knees, and appeared mentally imploring the aid of Heaven. His cowl falling back, disclosed his pale high forehead, his silver white tonsure, his intelligent, but deeply furrowed features, and the fine formation of his mouth. As the mingled gleams of the lamp and fire-light shot changefully over him, he looked like some martyr of old awaiting the hour of torture and death.

On a sudden his attention seemed withdrawn from his agony of prayer; he rose hastily from his knees, and gazed earnestly towards one side of the room where a light timid footstep was now heard-the tapestry rustled, and in the next moment a vision entered, which he might have well deemed that of an angel, had not the grief and terror of the countenance, as well as the complaining tones of the voice, convinced him that his visitant was a mortal like himself, and (like himself, too,) unhappy.

It was a female figure tall and majestic, whose pale and flowing hair had a narrow circlet of gold that denoted her to be noble, the long black robe of silk confined by a girdle of large pearls, the hesitating step,-the clasped hands,-the streaming eye, combined to shew the Franciscan that he was in the presence of no angel it is true, but of one of the fairest of the daughters of men suffering too her full share of the sorrows of mortality.

"Am I then," exclaimed the friar, gazing on this apparition with perplexed emotion," Holy Francis! am I to have a companion in my terrors and my bonds ?"

"Alas! holy father," the unknown began in the softest tones, "it were well for her, if such were the only companion that approached the thraldom of the wretched Rosamund de Courtnaye."

The friar started, with trembling hands advanced the lamp to her features, and almost dropping it in his emotion, exclaimed The Lady de Courtnaye? and here?-here, where I deemed that murder was brooding only for my own worthless life; here, where I was brought but yesterday, by a feigned message as relating to thyself, decoyed from my peaceful convent in Lichfield, and thrust by tude men into this wretched solitude. Thy missions I received by a faithful

hand, they told me of thy captivity in London; thanks to St. Francis, they at least are safe in the friary-but wherefore art thou here ?"

"The savage Warner," replied the lady, "intending to acquire a securer plea for his rapacious designs on my hardhearted lord, has removed me hither; he purposes to tell Walter that I am indeed dead, as the world by my mock funeral believes, or at least so to blind him as to the place of my secretion, that he may at all times have unlimited controul over him. Providence, however, sleeps not; and though I little deemed to meet thee, the faithful confessor whom I have so often knelt to in my father's halls of Helmhurst"-here the unfortunate lady's tears gushed forth in passionate violence, but soon checking her emotion, she exclaimed: "Heaven will not permit wicked men to prevail against its servant! thou hast seen me, and unknown to Warner-thee they will not long detain."

"And yet, lady, they have doubtless discovered my speech with the bishop; the public audience was to take place to-morrow ;-thy brother Lionel is, by this time, at the friary. I, alas! have other causes to accuse of my imprisonment than thy hard treatment." He paused, and then added, "but my interference in thy behalf no human obstacle shall check for an instant! Thy gaoler dreams not that I know of thy being here, and my imprisonment is the work of Lord Walter, whose violence I must abide-my life he will not dare to touch : but it is of the last moment that our meeting should not become known ;return then to thy place, and hope every thing from my enlargement, which, trust me, will only be delayed by a few rude insults."

The sounds announcing the arrivals already alluded to, produced the immediate disappearance of the noble captive; and the father was once more left to his perturbed meditations.

It was with no delightful eye that Warner, on entering the low wide hall, in whose immense hearth blazed a bright fire, noticed the livery of De Courtnave mingling with those of his own wild followers. History but too faithfully records the unprecedented impunity of the robber chiefs at this period, still he little liked that a nobleman, however his confederate in guilt, should mingle his own vassals with these brawling ruffians; for, though prompt to any deed of crime at their lord's bidding, their presence might induce notice dangerous, even from the feeble police of the time.

He

had, however, his own secret to keep, and knew that his men durst not hint it, and would not if they durst.

Welcoming therefore the noble guest, whom he would willingly have thrust forth to the tempest, or added to the number of the captives which Edial already contained; he ordered the table of dais to be spread, and, excusing his absence, repaired to Rosamund's prison-room.— Meanwhile, the Lord Courtnaye addressed one of his attendants who remained in the ball.

"Come hither, Edward! closer still wouldst have yonder ruffians share my confidence?"

"So please ye, my lord, they know most, I trow, of what your lordship would say. The Franciscan is safe, and by'r Lady, had they not helped us, the dungeon he lies in would have been ill to find among the mazes of this hiding

hole."

1

"Answer to what I ask thee, fellow, and think thyself fortunate if thine answers save thy back from the scourge ! what habitants hath this howling mansion ?"

"None, save the worthies whom your lordship's pleasure hath thought fit to make bedfellows to your poor servants for the night."

"Are there means of expediting matters if the Franciscan be obstinate ?"

The servant replied by an ominous smile, and pointed to a large ring in the wall, and two horizontal bars of iron about six inches from the floor at the further end of the long apartment. ""Tis well!-the house is lonely,no cries can arrest the passenger ?"

Nay, my lord, when we arrived last night, your lordship's own signet, and their knowledge of your lordship's esteem for their captain, scarcely hindered their deeming us a troop of ghosts from their former victims,-there is not a house within miles."

"The better for our purpose! Thou and thy fellows take good heed no brawl arises in your wassal to-night, and to make it the more joyous, scatter these nobles among yon wild band."

The entrance of Warner with somewhat of the former discontent banished from his brow, and followed by his men bearing plentiful refreshments, here put an end to the discourse.

The meal passed heavily enough, and the wild wind seemed a confidant which either of these guilty conspirators preferred to his companion. When the tables were drawn, De Courtnaye in a hasty tone, without consulting the robber, even by a look, commanded the friar

"I would fain," said the captive undauntedly I would fain see countenances where guilt hath not set its sealfain find ears that would profit by what mine unworthy lips might utter."

"And yet, for lack of holier shrift, thou must e'en confess thee to us Sir Warden!"

"What shall I confess ?-that my sins alone have caused Heaven and St. Francis to give me up into the hands of cruel men!-men who defy alike”

"Stop! gray friar!" said Warner impetuously springing from the board,stop, or thou mayst find the shorter

6.6

shrift t

Now, so help me the chaste founder of mine order, as I will never divulge it save in the presence of that holy John himself!"

"Nay, then, Edward! Osric!" shouted De Courtnaye.

66

My own men were your better aids, my lord," said Warner, " they understand the eloquence of steel and fire!"He stamped, and four men, half naked, of robust frames, and countenances where the slightest trace of ruth was a stranger, entered the room. Two of them instantly seized the Franciscan, while the others hastily raking some red-hot coals from the hearth, arranged them on the floor of stone, so as to make a bed of fire under the iron bars already mentioned. The Warden was quickly despoiled of his upper garment, his large bright eye shewing no terror at his impending tortures; but as they were pulling off his tunic, several packets dropt from his bosom; his countenance changed at once, and as the men left him to show them to their master, he evinced a momentary

Lord Walter perused them with the most unreprest satisfaction. "Stop," he cried, with malicious joy, to the ruffians who had already stripped the old man, and were about to extend him on the bars now red hot," singe not a hair of his mortified carcass; there be those will find a gayer bonfire for him ere long !"

In an instant the poor naked friar was placed on his legs, gazing in newly revived anxiety on all around as they restored to him his habit.

"Thou mayest depart, Sir Friar !" said De Courtnaye;" for well 1 ween the rain without will be more welcome to thee than the hospitality thou hast encountered here: but take heed thou fail not in thine holy purpose! I thank thee for thy zeal,-it hath quickened mine! Shew him the road to Lichfield, and see you harm him not! We meet in the Cathedral to-morrow!" he continued; and then marking the downcast looks of the old man, he burst into scornful laughter. Warner gazed at him in unfeigned wonder, while the Warden, being reclothed, was led blindfold from the old hall, and the bandage was not removed from his eyes till he had been conducted half way through the wood on the road to Lich

A virgin vase, whose alabaster mould
The flight of Daphne, and the tragic tale
Of Procris, and the beauteous dying boy
Young Hyacinth, not yet a flower of love.
Roughen'd in cunning'st loveliness, was plac'd
Upon a pedestal of Sardonyx.

Each handle was a butterfly, the spots
Of their broad wings swelling with turquoises.
Fresh from the adjacent fountain, water slept
In its fair bosom, as a tetchy child,
Long brawling, rests but on its mother's breast;
And here and there the ewer had forgot
Its duty, scattering on the chisell'd cheeks
And lightest arms of that white receptacle
Large lucid drops, that, gemming where they
fell,

Made what they touch'd not, tho' 'twas bright before,

Seem dull in wanting them;-like tears they' lay,

Upon the cheek of Cephalus, like dew,-
Apollo's richest beverage, on the tears

The clustering Lychnis, of such hues as flash Vermillion through the haughty Vatican,

When conclaves call its Cardinal, o'erlooks
The gold Zenothera, like the autumnal moon,
Bright but undazzling. Next starts fiercely
forth,

In all the burnished pageantry that flamed
Upon th' Hesperians dragon-guarded fruit,-
The Marigold, bright contrast to the pale
Blue Lavender, that mingles timidly
Her fragrance with his splendour, or reclines
Upon the pure cheek of that Provence flower,
Where, like the tear of grief on beauty's cheek,
Glistens the last dew it shall ever feel.
This bends, (white blossom) to that stately
stem,
Solemnly gorgeous, whose thick petals blush
Darker than bloodiest crimson, rustic maids,
Had ye beheld how she did lean on him,
And like a warrior o'er his fainting love,
How he sustained her, smiling would ye hail
Your own Sweet William! "Mignionette was

there,

Dear little faithful handmaid of the year,
The first to usher Summer to her bower,
The last that Winter drives from Autumn's

corse,

And the soft flower Convolvolus, that caught
That delicate colour from some Southern sky,
Where the bright azure knows no rival hue
But such as fading sunbeams paint upon
The paly Occident: In purple pomp,
Deepest, intensest purple, as the vest
Of Rome's tiara'd pontiff, high o'er all,
Soars the superb Campanula, its bells
Serene and beautiful as if again
The owl would feast there, or the butterfly
Be palaced in their cupolas: close by,
Mated in splendour and imperial state,
The lofty lilies rose, one cold and pure
As beauty vowed to Vesta, rutilant
And warm of hue the other, as the star
The Thracian Godhead glows in

A fair zone, Studded with odorous roses of each shade, From the deep damask to the tinted moss Where white's at odds with pink, lay thickly round This living broidery.

How fair they seem! How proud, how vigorous! how they flash upon That colourless carved vase! ah me! so soonSo soon lose their glories, and become A stench and a deformity! When Spring Returns, and calls their parent stems to life, No Sun shall waken them-one moment here In this gay shrine they glitter, and then fade, Never to bloom again!

And I could weep, Or moralize, or both, to see so fairSo sad an emblem of a higher race