old man paused to collect his thoughts, and then again striking the chords, poured forth a tale of treachery in one who had taken advantage of his friend's absence to possess himself of those lands he should have guarded for the absent warrior. The proud baron quailed beneath the minstrel's lay: Sir Otho knew not why, but the tale called forth his earnest attention, and the glass which he had filled during the minstrel's pause remained in his hand, its contents unquaffed; when suddenly breaking off and pleading fatigue, the minstrel arose, and both he and the page vanished from the scene.

The stranger knight, first recovered himself, and suggested that as no largess had been given, some one should follow them with a reward. The baron found some objection, and besought Sir Otho not to give encouragement to such vagrants; but Sir Otho's curiosity was piqued, and the baron's objection seemed to give colour to the idea, that in some way the tale bore reference to themselves. Then came the recollection of some hints which had been thrown out on his return from Palestine, that all had not been fair in the manner by which de Tracy had seized on and kept possession of his lands; and he loudly and authoritatively ordered his servitors to seek out both minstrel and page, and bring them back to the hall; but in vain did he tarry there; messenger after messenger was dispatched, but no trace of them could be found; and the party at length dispersed, each under different impressions. The baron felt that it was no accident which could cause a deed so replete with fact to be narrated as fiction. Sir Otho became doubtful how far he might be serving his interests by sacrificing his child. The captive knight had heard strains which brought fresh to his mind his own lost condition; and the Lady Mabel knew her rescue was at hand-how she guessed not-by what means she

dreamed not; but Raoul de Courcy was come to her aid, and sinking on her knees, she poured forth her thanks to Him who had heard, and seen fit to grant her prayer.

The next day the Baron de Tracy was said to have set forth on an expedition, the importance of which might be judged of, by the very inopportune moment he had selected for its prosecution; and ere night, a herald had arrived to announce that Philip of France, with his retinue, would arrive one day sooner than had been deemed possible.

Richard rode forth to meet his royal guest, and as they made their entry side by side, multitudes strewed their path. A temporary building had been erected, on which the standards of the two nations floated high in air; while within the arras were stationed all the nobles of Richard's court who had not followed him. The Lady Mabel sat a little apart from the rest. Her father was in attendance on the king, and Ulric was no longer there to be her esquire. Since the banquet scene, hope had not deserted her, and her thoughts were even now so intent on remembering the pretended page's every look and word, that the two monarchs were passing in front of where she sat, ere she was aware of their near approach. Quickly she rose, and curtseying low, as she raised her eyes to obtain a view of Philip's face, she observed the knight who rode close behind him bend towards her, and raise his vizor. The look she caught was but momentary; but when did woman ever mistake the presence of him she loves? Mabel de Monthermer had again recognised Raoul de Courcy, no longer in the humble guise of an attendant, but clad in armour of the most costly description, and reining in his proud steed, that it might not pass, but keep close to the kings. Overcome and surprised, Mabel sat down to recover herself; the pageant swept on, and for some hours she was left in uncertainty of what was taking place.

As soon, however, as Raoul de Courcy, or, as we must now call him, the Duc de Charolais (such being his rank and title) could disengage himself from attendance on his sovereign, he sought means to communicate to Mabel all that had passed in his long-protracted absence. He felt that to her the news of Ulric's safety would be the most welcome he could impart, and it was therefore of him he first spoke; and, after assuring her that Ulric was not far off, explained to her that, on his finding himself left in Normandy without receiving any order to proceed further, or permission to return into Anjou, he had passed into England; and, on visiting his native place, had obtained such proofs respecting de Tracy's foul possession of the lands which were his heritage, as were quite sufficient to invalidate his claim on them, and more than sufficient to cast an indelible stain on his honour as a knight. Ulric had lost no time in returning to France with these proofs; but he knew Sir Otho too well to expect that the tale would be believed unless heralded by some tongue more esteemed than his; and therefore, instead of proceeding to his father, he exerted himself to find out Raoul de Courcy, and obtain from him an avowal of his real rank and station. After the failure of many well-laid schemes for bringing this about, he by accident discovered that the Duc de Charolais, the favourite of the French king, was a de Courcy. To him Ulric directed his steps, in the hope that he might obtain intelligence of one whom he had supposed might be his kinsman. Great was the surprise of these young men on finding themselves thus suddenly and unexpectedly in each other's presence; and not a moment was lost in considering how they might best circumvent the Baron de Tracy's wish to possess himself of the Lady Mabel's hand, which they both perceived he was led to desire on any terms, as the best means of preventing his guilt from being discovered, and thus saving his honour as a