tion, "thus is it, those, who in their vigour and strength, have the least mercy for others, are always, in time of affliction and woe, the most urgent in claiming.it in behalf of themselves; but, may thy sinful soul rest in peace, De Bellemonte."

In a few moments after, Sir Lionel had recrossed the field of battle, passing over thousands of the dead and dying in his way to rejoin the pursuit of the infidels, and leaving the dead body of the knight-baron to the grave of warriors slain in battle-a pit hastily dug in the field of contention, where friends and foes, who, in life, are arrayed against each other in murtherous conflict, but in death, mingle their ashes together in undisturbed repose.

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CHAPTER II.

"Hear him but reason in divinity,

And all-admiring with an inward wish,

You would desire the King were made a prelate :

Hear him debate on commonwealth affairs,
You'd say, it had been all and all his study.
List his discourse of war, and you shall hear
A fearful battle rendered you in music.
Turn him to any cause of policy,

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter. When he speaks,
The air, a charter'd libertine, is still;
And the mute wondér lurketh in men's ears,
To steal his sweet and honied sentences."

Shakspeare.

THE night of this eventful day now began rapidly to fall, and Sir Lionel pushed on as fast as the fatigue of Black Dorset would allow, in hopes, every moment, of coming up with his friends, but he had gone on some leagues, and still saw nothing of them. Here and there, in the early part of his way, he passed a few stragglers, but they could give no ac

curate information of the precise route the army had advanced upon; and he, therefore, was compelled, heedlessly, to pursue the direction he supposed they must have taken, trusting a great deal to chance, to lead him rightly. The night too, set in dark and gloomy, and the full moon was not yet up.

The wind came over the wilds, whistling in hoarse moanings, as if it had swept over the field of slaughter and pain, and bore away the groans of the wounded and dying, which swelled on, and passed off with the breeze. The scene and circumstances altogether, were peculiarly affecting to a young and sensitive mind, and Sir Lionel was deeply moved and absorbed in thought, and infected with sad

ness.

Sir Lionel was now bewildered and benighted, and the mood of his mind, as all the occurrences of the day flashed upon it, became more and more reflective and melancholy. He now approached a small grove of olive trees, whose shade he sought, to give himself and his steed a little rest; intending,

as soon as the moon would enable him to see his way better, to renew his endeavours to reach the Christian army; and before, if possible, it had commenced its march in the morning, after the halt for the night, it must have made, to refresh the harassed troops.

He dismounted and seated himself upon a mound of moss and grass, allowing his horse to graze by his side. His thoughts were too busily occupied to admit of his seeking repose. It was not long, however, ere the moon rose high in the heavens, springing from behind a distant mountain, and silvered the face of nature with her calm and lovely beams, but she rose unnoticed by the young Baron, who had then fallen into a reverie, profound as sleep, with his head, which was partly supported by his left arm, resting against the trunk of an olive tree.

He was shortly roused from his meditations, by the loud snortings of his horse. He started instantly upon his legs, and his quick eye rested upon an object similarly roused to him

self, and whose sight of Sir Lionel was as instantaneous.

"Who art thou," cried a voice, apparently affected with powerful emotion, "who comes upon our sorrows and loneliness thus secretly, whose intent must be as dark as the hour?Aha Christian invader!-Alas! I am an enemy no longer worthy the vengeance of even a Christian.-But, Christian, look to it -though alone, I will part with life dearly, should ye have scores to back ye." And the cimeter of an infidel gleamed with the moonshine, and its flourish, cast a radiant light upon the dark foliage of the grovė, as vivid and as forked as lightning,

Sir Lionel thought that he had heard the voice before; and the associations, the sound of it created in his mind, were, that it was some friendly voice ;-not the voice of a foe, but still he unsheathed his sword to be prepared against every extremity.

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Infidel," rejoined Sir Lionel, in a mild, though firm voice, "I, too, am alone, but I

have no wish to battle with thee.-I would