ments, like noontide sunbeams gleaming on a funeral pall. As she again approached the noble, she said, softly-" Lord of Hereward, I will apprize the royal sufferer of your adventurous visit-now we must part: and yet," she added, more hurriedly, "I urge you, perchance, to your destruction. No, return not-speed to Brittany-Raulfe of Norfolk will hail you as a brother-you may yet live to brighter fortune." "To-morrow," said the noble, "I will be here again." "Yet," cried the lady Arela, "should you be suspected 66 Maiden," said the lord Morcar, "cowl and caution will avail me much; should they fail" and as he spoke he threw back his long dark robe, and displayed his weapon, "force and desperation shall avail me more." "Think on the forfeit of a failure," urged the lady, timidly. "That forfeit were my life," said the Saxon noble, with the firmness of despair -"a life valueless, save that it was prolonged by the devotion of a heroic woman, and may yet claim solicitude from another." "Yet remember, rash Saxon, that the loved one may sink beneath the deathblow." "Better were it," said the lord Morcar, bitterly, "better for the forest-tree to be laid low by the tempest, than sapped by slow and withering decay." The lady De Rossenville bent her head mournfully, as she murmured-"To-morrow, then-______” "We meet for the last time!" concluded the spirit-bowed patriot; and after wringing the hand of the maiden, he drew the cowl hastily over his head, and with rapid step quitted the hall. 1 CHAP. XXI. "I pray thee, do thy mission tenderly- Emotion. THE lady of Rossenville stood for a moment gazing after the departing Saxon; and when he had turned from the gallery, a deep sigh escaped her, and she remained motionless and thoughtful.-" Was it for this," she mused, " for this that he perilled life and limb-ay, and that which was dearer to a soul like his-love and fame, in the cause of England? he has gathered wormwood, and imbibed its bitternesshe has filled a cup with gall, and drained it even to the dregs-he has followed the call of honour, and she has lured him to the pitfalls of misery: but is it beseem-. ing," and she started at her own thoughts, " is it beseeming in the daughter of De Rossenville to sorrow that it is even thus? deems she so poorly of the Saxon Hereward, as to hold him unable to bear his sufferings, that she dares to pity where she should applaud? No, she may not, dare not wish it otherwise-the sacrifice is worthy of the cause-the victim will ennoble the far-off memory of the struggle of which he was the noblest, proudest forfeit. There was another," and the busy heart of the lady reverted to her father; "he was an aged man, and his hair was chequered with time-he sought only to go down to the grave in peace; but the bloodhounds were unleashed, and the sepulchre of his fathers was sealed against their son he too was a sacrifice," and she bent her knee, and raised her clasped hands, as she uttered aloud, "great God, may he be the last! may the blood of De Rossenville stamp the union of England with her king! may she be no more look ed on by her foreign children as an envious step-dame, holding back her honours for her own sons, and dealing out her bounties sparingly to her stranger-offspring-and oh! may the sainted spirit of De Rossenville look down on this, fair country, and behold Norman and Saxon but as one family!" "May thy pious prayer be registered on high, ladye!" murmured a voice; and starting from her knee, she beheld the archbishop of Canterbury at her side, "and may the blessing of a churchman rest on thee for ever, to repay its utterance!" The fair Saxon meekly bowed her head, as the holy man pronounced his pious benison; and then recalling suddenly the image of him with whom she had held conference so lately on that very spot, the blood flew from her heart to her brow, and she strove to speak; but her words were inaudible, and although the primate marked the rapid and quivering motion of her lips, he heard not her address. |