"The king!" cried the lady, casting one white arm around her lord's neck, but drawing back her head from his proffered kiss, with a look of wonder, not unmingled with affright. "I thought that all this turmoil was ended yesterday, when you beat the king's troops back from these walls. Is Rufus in Northumberland again?"

"His messenger is in the castle. I am now armed and ready to follow him to the king's camp, where Rufus wishes to confer with me."

"Do not go," cried the lady, and a look of keen anxiety came into the dark eyes that were a moment before so full of tenderness. "My heart misgives me. What if this bad king-always false and cruel-should intend this message as a snare!"

"I think not," replied the earl, gazing, with a sort of thoughtful tenderness, into the earnest eyes uplifted to his, as if he were thinking of her more than any danger that might threaten himself. "Remember, Rufus is a sworn knight and crowned king. He would not stain his honor by treachery so base as his would be, should any peril attend this expedition."

"But you will not go without ample guard," cried the lady, still anxious. "We have troops enough here. If you will go, let it be with plenty of stout soldiers."

What, to guard my own life from an imaginary risk, must I weaken the garrison that is to protect my lady? Nay! nay! there is no peril in this! Besides I have thirty picked men below; so one kiss, foolish trembler, and I will to the saddle."

"I cannot, I cannot !" cried the lady, shrinking back to her pillows and burying her face in them. "My heart sinks within me; it seems as if we were parting forever!"

This is because we are parting for the first time since you were mine," said Northumberland, tenderly; "I too have something here that half unmans me!"

'Oh, listen to it, listen to it, sweet lord, and trust not this recreant king! The mission must speed ill that is pursued against the clamor of a strong heart. Go not into the power of this Norman, my Northumberland!"

"Tush, tush!" said the earl, raising her forehead from the pillow and smiling with a sort of forced playfulness, as her eyes so full of trouble met his, Is this the heroism of an English baron's wife? By my knighthood I must not let our soldiers see this miserable face; they would swear the saints were all against this morning's ride! Come-come-look up and smile upon me before I go; I am anxious to put an end to this unthrifty warfare. It irks me to see my bride couched among the rough walls of a citadel chamber"

The countess glanced around the room whose

rude stone work was but scantily concealed by the glowing tapestry brought from her own more commodious apartments, and cast roughly over it on the first sound of attack. Then, turning her eyes upon the noble face of her husband, with one of those soul-beaming smiles that burst from a full heart to the face, as light shines over a flower, she cast herself upon his bosom.

"You have been with me here; I felt no lack of comfort; we shall never, never, be so happy again!"

Northumberland felt the heart dew breaking into his eyes; his own presentiments echoed the fears that filled the bosom of his wife, for intense love of that noble young creature had softened his brave nature, as only brave natures can be softened, for there is no tenderness so touching and so beautiful as that of a strong spirit subdued by the affections. A moment more and that lovely pleader might have prevailed; but Northumberland felt his weakness and straining her to his bosom tore himself away.

"Northumberland! my lord-oh my dear lord -come back! One word more-a single word!" cried the young wife, starting from her couch and stretching forth her arms toward the door through which he had passed. But he was gone. She heard his mailed step ringing on the stone floorfainter fainter-fainter-then came the jingling of spurs, the tramp of hoofs, and the hollow sound of a cavalcade galloping over the draw-bridge, then the slow creaking of chains as the bridge was raised again, and all was still, even the lady's heart, for she had fainted on her couch.

It was but for a moment-scarcely had the color left that exquisite mouth when it flowed back again touching it with a vivid scarlet, and her eyes flashed with renewed life. She would see him again, if it were but one precious glance; there must be time for that! She started up, hurried on her robe, and thrust her snowy feet into a pair of embroidered sandals, while she flung a long crimson super tunic over her garments to conceal the deficiencies of her toilet from the guard, and then she hurried forth to the rampart, breathless and half wild with fear that he would be out of sight.

No, he had checked the headlong speed of his little cavalcade the moment that he felt safe from the pleadings of his own heart, in the open country. He saw her there, bending over the ramparts, holding the crimson robe to her bosom with one hand, and stretching forth the other as if that mute appeal might call him back. He took off his scarf-that which her own fair hands had embroidered-and cast it to the winds, then gathering its azure folds in his hands he pressed them to his lips, drew it over his shoulders again and put spurs to his horse. The ground was thickly

wooded-twice she caught sight of his form galloping through the trees; still she watched for one -the deep more glance of that azure scarf, but noemerald hue of the forest, waving on and on, a vast wild ocean of foliage, alone met her eye.

She waited half an hour on the battlements, hoping that some vista in the trees might give her another glance of the beloved one; then she turned away, heavy-hearted and with tears standing in those superb eyes.

Ill and dispirited, the countess sought the gloom of her chamber again. There she sat down in the dim light, with the crimson mantle falling in masses around her, her hair all unbraided and her uncovered feet reposing loosely in their sandals. Her grief seemed deep and poignant beyond any But affection is sometimes enapparent cause. dowed with an intuitive sense deep and holy as the prophetic spirit. From the moment her last glance had rested on the bridegroom, to whom she had been wedded only three happy months, there was a settled conviction at her heart that some terrible evil would betail him before they met again.

Weary of waiting for a summons, her tiring She women, at length, came into the chamber. suffered them to robe her in the costly garments with which he had best loved to see her person adorned; but all the while they were plaiting the raven tresses of her hair and smoothing the purple folds of her robe, she stood among them sad and painfully abstracted-tears standing in her eyes and a sharp tremor now and then agitating her lips, as a rose bud trembles when overcharged with storm drops.

At length her women went out and the countess was left alone. She sat down by an embroidery frame, but her hands shook and the gorgeous silks blended in contused inasses of co.or beneath her eyes; she arose and walked the room. She knelt upon the oaken floor before an emblem of our Saviour's agony, and prayed, but still the force of her apprehensions grew stronger and more insupportable. She could neither work nor pray. Amid all the terrors of a tierce siege the lady had been caim, almost cheerful, for he was by her side. But now left in walls peopled by her husband's vassais, but lacking that dear sense of protecting love, her very soul grew faint.

The royal camp was only a few miles from Bamborough, and the conference between Rufus and his puissant baron need not occupy much time, so the countess might reasonably expect his coming some hours before night. But the sun sank nearer and nearer to the horizon, and the West was breaking into ridges of taint purple and gold, and no indication of his coming. She had been upon the ramparts already four weary hours, and as the first rosy flush of coming night appeared upon the VOL. VII.-No. 3.

sky, the apprehensions that had made the day so full of trial became insupportable, tears gushed to her eyes, her white hands were intertwined in a convulsive clasp, and, leaning against a rude abutment of stone, she still kept her eyes, blinded and wet with tears, upon the forest path which Northumberland had taken.

What was that? The forest peopled with human beings? Were those red flashes among the trees beams of the rich sunset, or war pennants streaming to the air? She dashed the blinding tears from her eyes. The breath came, pantingly, through her open lips--the white fingers, so tightly enlinked, clung together pale and cold as ice, and over her features fell a purple tinge from the robe, that rendered their pallor deathly.

The woods were in commotion-trembling with the rush of human life, that seemed heaving, wave after wave, through their dense foliage. They came forth in battalions-archers-spearsmenand ranks of rude men with pikes and battleaxes gleaming in the sunset-like torches bursting into flame-file after file, column following column -the royal army surged out from the dark forest. Like a cloud of foul insects they swarmed around the fortress in silence and with rude military precision. When the castle was belted in with armed men, and the forest yet teeming with hostile beings, as if the very leaves had started int human existence, a party of some ten persons came through a vista in the woods, conspicuous for their rich armor and their magnificently housed war steeds. A single trumpet blast heralded The ranks fell the approach of these horsemen. back, leaving a lane walled in by pikemen, through which the party came in a sharp gallop toward the draw-bridge.

The countess turned her eyes, now clear and sharp with a certainty of evil, upon these horsemen. The first was a powerful man in jet black armor, studded richly with gold, a crim son pluine floated from his helmet and masses of bright red hair flowed over his shoulders. His helmet was down and the features entirely concealed; but a sharp thrill ran through the lady's frame as she saw those locks, so deep in their warm hue, It is so remarkable for profusion and length. the king!" broke from her white lips, and still her eyes turned with fearful earnestness on the cavalcade.

Next to William Rufus came another figure, mounted on a large white steed, but diminutive in person and so slender that the weight of his silver scaled armor seemed bending his shoulders His white plume was of unusual length, and the housings of his steed, heavy with golden fringes, were more superb, by far, than those of the king's charger.

to a curve.

The countess knew this man also, and the thrill 8

of pain which the sight of Rufus had produced deepened into a shudder. That diminutive horseman was Ralph Flambard, the base chaplain of the tyrant king and the most hated man in England. With these came many leaders and nobles forming the red king's retinue, all plunging after him toward the barbican with headlong speed, while the army swarmed up closer and closer to the moated walls.

A trumpet blast, loud and prolonged, with a valorous flourish, fired all the proud, old Saxon blood in the gentle heart of the countess. She stood firmly up and moving across the battlements met her husband's lieutenant, who was advancing hurriedly toward her.

"I know it is the king," she said, with forced composure; let us go the donjon tower and hear what he would say to us. In Northumberland's absence, good lieutenant, we must take authority upon ourselves; suminon some of my maidens. It is but seemly that they accompany us on this warlike mission."

The summons was all uncalled for. While the countess was speaking, her maidens came upon the battlement in great terror, and breathless from the haste with which they had left the halls below. "The king, lady; the king is here in person!" cried one of the girls, glancing with affright at the array of armed men that surrounded the fortress. "Well, pretty Marion, why should Northumberland's wife tremble at the sound of a monarch's trumpet?" said the lady, striving to smile. Is not the castle well guarded? Have we not kept this Norman at bay two months already, though his trumpet has clamored at our gate full often during the whole time?"

"It may be that our lord is with the king, and that this is but the summons to admit him with his royal guest," suggested the lieutenant.

The lady's pale cheek glowed again with the rich bloom it had lost, her splendid eyes flashed joyfully an instant, and then her features sank back to the fond but anxious expression they had previously worn.

"That is not the sound of Northumberland's trumpet; I should know its voice," she said, and a tear, spite of her efforts to suppress it, sparkled in her eye at the remembrance of those happy days when the silver-toned clarion of her bridegroom had claimed entrance to her father's castle.

Another impatient blast of the trumpet forced the lady's thoughts to the duties she was called upon to perform. "Come, my good lieutenant! Follow me close, maidens!" she added, moving with a firm step across the battlements. "The ladies of our house were not wont to shrink from the angry frown of an enemy, though he chanced to be a crowned one. It were a shame to hesitate longer. Let us to the donjon tower!"

"Shall I bring forth your couvre-chef, lady?" said the young maiden to whom the countess had most directly addressed herself.

"Yes!" said the lady, and a faint blush shot across her cheek, "the time was when a Saxon dame might stand before an English king with her brow uncovered, without fear or shame, but the times are changed. Bring me the muffler."

The damsel sprang forward and instantly returned with a long scarf, of rose colored silk, which she arranged over the glossy braids of her mistress' hair, which fell almost to the floor though slightly knotted up with scarlet rib

ands.

Now lift my train, thou little trembler," said the lady, forcing a smile, as the shaking hands of the damsel fell from the couvre-chef, startled by a more angry blast from the hostile trumpeters. Nay, let the sleeves sweep the earth as they will," she added, as one of the girls stooped to knot up one of the loose ermine lined sleeves which, in that age, were allowed to fall in drapery till they blended with the sweeping train, "we have no time to care for the spoiling of a little velvet and fur. Let us away or this Norman king will tax the wife of Northumberland with fear of his presence."

can.

With a firm but somewhat rapid step the countess left the battlements Surrounded by her maidens and the officers of her garrison, she crossed the outer baily, or court, which lay between the citadel and the donjon keep, a strong, square tower of two stories that stood opposite the barbiWhile among her own people she threw the couvre-chef back upon her shoulders and glanced, from time to time, upon the soldiers that lined her way with a look of calm and sweet encouragement. Once or twice she smiled as some rude soldier dropped to his knees and pressed his lips upon the flag from which her small foot had been just uplifted. But the smiles were grave, and with them started a few tears that gave lustre to the troubled blackness of her eyes without forming into drops. At length she stood upon the donjon tower in full view of the royal army. The herald was still sounding his clarion, and near him sat King Rufus, striving to check the impatience of his war horse, whose blood seemed on fire from the constant braying of the trumpet and the sharp control held over him by the impatient monarch, whose strong arm seemed scarcely sufficient to keep the steed from plunging into the moat. A band of noble generals were gathered around the monarch, and beyond was the army standing close together, a compact wall of hostile forces.

As the Countess Matilda appeared upon the tower, every eye was uplifted toward her. She neither shrank back nor trembled, for the Saxon blood was kindled in her veins, exciting her to

more than feminine courage.

She felt that in her delicate form was centred the custody of her husband's knighthood, and modestly gathering the couvre-chef over her features she waited in calm dignity for the herald to proclaim the wishes of his master.

For a moment there was profound silence in the hostile company, the superb beauty of the countess-her queenly figure rendered more imposing by vestments massive in material and flowing around her in rich waves, like the drapery of a Roman matron-the exquisite beauty of a face that could not be all concealed by the half transparent couvre-chef, joined to a dignity that was almost regal, had taken the enemy by surprise. A murmur of admiration ran from lip to lip. Several of the lords lifted the helmets from their foreheads, in chivalric homage to so much loveliness, and the king removed the bars of steel from before his florid and coarse features to fix them with a look of rude admiration on the noble lady Slowly he turned that glance aside and it rested upon Ralph Flambard; a meaning smile, sensual and treacherous, disturbed his heavy mouth and it was answered with a look of crafty gratulation by the favorite.

"Is not there beauty enough to justify the advice I gave?" said the parasite in a low voice, stooping toward the monarch.

"I would give the best earldom in England for a good view of that face."

"Have patience, my liege," replied the favorite, softly; "within the fortress, your own hand shall sweep the rosy cloud away from such features as your eyes never dwelt upon."

"Hark! Her seneschal is answering our herald," said the king, returning Flambard's assurance with a quick glance. Hear what answer the lovely

dame renders to our demand."

"That Matilda, Countess of Northumberland, will never open the gates of her husband's castle to men who claim entrance in hostile guise and with arms in their hands. This is her answer," said Ralph, and his thin lips curled craftily.

Sound again! Offer life and quarters to the garrison!" said the king aloud; then bending toward Flambard, he added, We must obtain an entrance without farther siege. If another night passes without giving me a view of the beauty that envious silk beclouds, thou shalt never touch a single manor of this rich earldom! "

by which I may couch in yon tower to-night, or, by my father's soul, not a mark of this rich earl's wealth ever reaches thy coffers."

Ralph Flambard turned away; a cloud hung upon his brow and he bit his lips, musing deeply while the king turned his attention toward the fortress again.

"What says she now!" said Ralph, after moment or two of dark thought, during which the countess had given a second answer to the herald. " What says she? I was pondering and

"Speedy and sure," said Ralph Flambard, and his face, so late sullen and beclouded, was bright with some fiendish idea th it had found birth in his musings. "Leave the means to ine and in one hour your highness shall be at supper in the castle hall, with yon beautiful dame bearing your wine cup."

"How?" demanded the king, "what is thy thought, Flambard? Let it do honor to thy usual craft and, by my mighty faith, thy coffers shall be gorged with Northumberland wealth. Speak quickly, for she is leaving the walls."

"Sound again!" commanded Flambard to the herald, seeing that the lady was inde ed retiring from the conference. Sound again and say that we have yet one more proposition to make."

"What means thie, what wouldst thou propose?" said the king, turning impatiently to Flambard.

"Her husband," said Flambard, briefly.
"Well!"

"Is he not your prisoner?"
"Well, what then?"

"He must be used to force this lady into a capitulation."

"Has not that been tried already? have we not used threats and arguments in vain?" said the king, impatiently.

"I know, I know; with him they ever will be in vain. He is stubborn as a Jew and would bear torture as well, but the lady-she loves him, she is gentle and timid, notwithstanding this lofty bearing. Let us bring him before her; let us threaten to tear out his eyes before her face!"

Rufus interrupted him with an expression of fierce joy: "By Saint George, if she hesitates we will do it too!" he cried. "Let the traitor earl be brought hither. She loves him, does she?"

There was a commotion among the ranks near

est the king, for, turning his horse, Ralph Flambard spurred through them, with impetuous haste, to obey the cruel mandate his own bad heart had suggested.

The Countess of Northumberland, who had been called back by the voice of the herald, observed this movement of the enemy and some intuitive dread seized upon her; she turned deadly white and followed the course of Flambard, which was marked by the swaying to and fro among the soldiery, like the effect left upon a grain field by a rushing current of wind. He only penetrated to the outskirts of the army, that reached the shelter of the wood, when the soldiers began to sway back again and he came through them at a sharp gallop, leading a maimed war steed upon which a man was bound. The countess could distinguish only that the person upon the wounded horse was bowed down as if he had fallen forward from weakness. They were coming toward her rapidly, and still her gaze was fixed upon them; a terrible apprehension was at her heart; her eyes grew vivid; her lips blanched; and all at once she recoiled back, staggered and fell against a projecting buttress. It was her lord-it was Northumberland! One glimpse of the azure scarf, her own love-gift, hanging tattered and soiled upon his broken armor, was enough. He came nearer and nearer at the will of Ralph Flambard; his armor was dented and gashed through the steel. The fragment of a broken plume fell across his pale

temples and his hands were shackled to the charger's neck. The poor animal was terribly wounded, half his housings were torn away and blood streamed from his flanks at every halting leap, for Ralph Flambard had no mercy and led his captive on at full gallop, looking back upon him all the way with a mocking smile.

A faintness, like that of death, still hung upon the Countess of Northumberland. The very castle seemed to reel beneath her feet. Stretching forth her arm in the dark-for the agony of that moment blinded her she sank to her knees murmuring My husband; oh, my husband!"

Another blast of the trumpet; another long preamble from the herald. What was it that he said? What atrocious threat was that which made the half-fainting lady spring to her feet with a shriek so full of anguish? They would tear his eyes out -her captive, her noble husband's-there before her face, while the bloom of her bridal months was yet glowing and fresh. They would tear those eyes out unless she gave up the castle within ten minutes. She was faint no longer-her vision became intensely clear; she saw Ralph Flambard, the low-born parasite, with his own eager hands untying the thongs that bound her husband to his charger. She saw the red king riding toward them, while the twilight streamed through his fiery hair and his face was dark with fiendish resolution.

(To be continued.)