which light the sky of his freedom whom thou hast saved."

"Ah me!" sighed the fair Saxon, mentally, "how far more lovely is that same similitude, uttered by the wasted lips of suffering, than when it met mine ear in the false, but thrilling voice of De Lacy! But, alas! I heard it then in the home of my youth, when the gentle breeze which kissed my brow swept over the towers of my father and now"

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Thou art sad, ladye of Sarum,” said the princess, tenderly-" we will weep together: it was long since a drop had moistened my fevered cheek; but thou hast taught my full heart to vent its feelings, and I will yield a tear to thy sorrowing, even as it were mine own."

The gentle Saxon looked with a wondering pity on the royal mourner.-" And can it indeed be," she asked herself, "that one who has thus tasted all the bitterness of suffering, until it has devoured the beauty of her youth, as the canker-worm

eats through the heart of the unfolded rose, can spare a tear or a pang for other griefs? This is indeed to live, and yet not be of this earth!"

CHAP. XX.

"Is this a phantom? Sure mine eye is true!
And now it grasps my hand-and o'er my brow
Sweeps its hot fever'd breath! Away! away!
The spectre of a charnel-vault were sure
Less horrid here!"

A Visit.

WHEN, after a long and melancholy interview with the princess, the lady De Rossenville sought her chamber, it was with a fulness of heart which panted to relieve itself by tears: she hurried onward, with downcast look and rapid step; and at that hour she encountered few to impede her passage, for the lordly inmates of the tower were all absent on affairs of busi

ness, or of pleasure; and though at intervals she was startled by an approaching step, it was only that of a court-vassal, hieing to the chamber of his lord, or the lighter footfall of a menial-maiden, speeding to the apartment of her mistress; but as the lady Arela passed into a narrow gallery, communicating with that which was appropriated to herself, a gentle pressure on her arm made her pause; and not without emotion she beheld the jester at her side.

"Beseech you, in courtesy, let me pass, sir Edouard," said the maiden, supplicatingly, as she raised her fair eyes to the intruder; "I am heavy of mood, or I were less hasty of converse."

"I hold your heaviness of heart too grave to be subject for a light jest, ladye," returned Edouard," or methinks I could even now give birth to one: marry, my very presence is a jest, and mine errand a lighter; for, by William's conquests, I bring a priest to shrive you of your sins."

"How!" exclaimed the lady of Rossen

ville, with a start of surprise; "what may this portend?"

"In good verity, fair Saxon, but this cowled priest joined my company on the day's morn, even as a dove joins company with an eagle, as that which it may not have otherwise; and he sought to read mine errand-a fool's errand! Marry, the good father guessed not that it knew nor end nor aim, save mine own fair diversion; but I spoke him promptly, that I sought sage friar to shrive the ladye De Rossenville at court: the gay priest liked well the mission, so I e'en stuck gooseplume in his giddy pinion, and his flight sped him hither two hours bygone."

"You have done ill, Edouard," said the lady of Sarum, mildly, "to sport with the holiness of the church-servants; and it behoves me to repair the folly of your morning's prowess. I will to my devotions, and then await here the coming of the holy man-in an hour perchance."

"Now, by the sanctity of his woollen cassock," cried the jester," where may I

bestow the reverend father for so long a space? But it avails little: by my valour, many of the court nobles need shrift, even as a discarded serving-man lacks a new doublet; and I will seek some practice for his piety among them."

"I pray you be less light of purpose, sir jester; and for that, I fear me you will make the holy priest sport for a Maygame: beseech you, let him not tarry in his passage to me; I shall await him on the instant,"

As the fair Saxon spoke, she passed into her apartment, and the jester quitted the gallery, in search of the friar.

Short time sufficed the lady De Rossenville to commune with her own heart; and when she re-entered the gallery, the priest was already there; but she bent not her knee to crave his benison-she bowed not her head to supplicate his forbearance; she stood breathless before him, like one who looked on a spectre." Rash Hereward!" was the first aspiration of her heart, but it was a voiceless one.