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y1 . - Cop Syne CHAPTER IX. Sir Nigel. who had entered the roomn with a silvery-haired old lady upon his arm. stared aghast at this sudden burst of candor. "Maude, Maude!" said he. shaking his head, "it is more hard for me to gain obedience from you than from the tenscore drunken archers who followed me to Guinne. Yet, hush! little one, for your fair lady-mother will be here anon. and there is no need that she t should know it. We will keep you t from the provost-marshal this journey. t Away to your chamber. sweeting. and keep a blitlh face, for she who con fesses is shriven. And now. fair moth- 2 er." he continued, when his daughter t had gone, "sit you here by the fire, for your blood runs colder than it did. Alleyne Edrieson, I would have a word with you, for I would fain that you should take service under me. And here in good time comes my lady. with- 2 out whose counsel it is not my wont 2 to decide aught to Import; but, indeed. 1 it was her own thought that you should I come." I "For I have formed a good opinion < of you, and can see that you are one i who may be trusted," said the I.ady Loring. "And in good sooth my dear lord hath need of such a one by his I side, for he recks so little of himself I that there should be one there to look I to his needs and meet his wants. You have seen the cloister; it were well I that you should see the world, too, ere - you make choice for life between them." I "You can ride?" asked Sir Nigel. looking at the youth with puckered eyes. "Yes, I have ridden much at the ab bey." "Yet there is a difference betwixt a friar's hack and a warrior's destrier. You can sing and play?" I "On citole. flute and rebeck." I "Good! You can read blazonry?" "Indifferent well." "I trust that you ere lowly and ser- 1 viceable?" "I have served all -my life, my lord." I "Canst carve too ?' t "I have carved two days a week for I the brethren." "A model truly! Wilt make a squire of squires. But toll me, pray, canst I curl hair?" "No. my lord, but I could learn."P "It is of Import," said he, "for I love to keep my hair well ordered, see Ing that the weight of my helmet for t thirty years hath in some degree frayed it upon the top." "It is for you also to bear the purse," said the lady; "for my sweet lord is of so free and gracious a temper that he would give it gayly to the first who asked alms of him. All these things, with some knowledge of venerie, and of the management of horse, hawk, and hound, with the grace and hardihood and courtesy which are proper to your age, will make you a fit squire for Sir Nigel Lorin.",' "Alas. lady!" Alleyne answered, "I know well the great honor that you have done me in deeming me worthy to wait upon so renowned a knight, yet I am so conscious of my own weak ness that I scarce dare incur duties which I might be so ill fitted to fulfil." "Modesty anda humble mind," said she, "are the very first and rarest gifts in page or squire. Your words prove that you have these, and all the rest is but the work of use and of time." "We can scarce hope," said Sir Nigel, "to have all ready for our start before the feast of St. Luke, for there is much to be done in the time. You will ha-ve leisure, therefore. If it please you to take service under me, in which to learn your devoir." "And I have one favor to .erave fromv you," added the lady of the, castle. ac Alleyne turned to leave their presence. "You have, as I understand, much learning, which you have acquired at Beaulieu. .{ would have you give an hour or two a day whilst you are with us in discoursing with my daughter, the Lady Maude; for she is somewhat: backward. I fear, and hath no love for. letters, save for these poor fond ro mances. which do but fill l'er empty head 'u Ith dreams of enchanted maid ens and of errant cavalier. Father Christopher comes over after nones from tl-e Priory, but he is stricken with years 2.nd slow of speech. so that she gets small profit from his teaching.. I would have you do what you can with her, anid with Agatha, my young tirer woman, and with Dorothy Pierpont. And so Alleyne found himself 'nc , only chosen as squire to :y knight, but also as squire to three damnozels, which was even further from the part which he had thought to play in the world. And now there came a time of stir and bustle, of furbishing of arms and clang of hammer from all the south land counties. Fast spread the tidings, from thorpe to thorpe and from castle to castle, that the old game was afoot once more, and the lions and lilies to be in the field with the early sprIng. Great news this for that fierce old country whose trade for a generationt had been war, her exports archers and her Imports prisoners. For six years her sons had chafed under aa unwonted 2 peace. Now they flew to their arms as to their birthright. The old soldiers 1 of Crecy, of Nogent, and of Poictiers were glad to think tfiat they might hear the war-trumpet once more, andt gladder still were the hot youth whof had chrafl'ed for years under the mar tial tales of their sires. To pierce the1 great mountains of the south, to fight the tamers of the fiery Moors, to fol- I low the greatest captain of the age, to. find sunny cornfields and vineyards, I when the ma'ches of Picardy and Nor- 2 mandy were as bare and blcalk as the Jedburghi forests-here was \ golden 1 prospects for a race of warriors. From I sea to sea there was stringing of bowS1 in the cottage and clang of steel In the castle. Nor did it take long for every strong hold to pour forth its cavalry, and every ha'.ilet its footmen. Through the I late autumn and the early winter everyI road and country lane resounded with I nakir and trumpet, with the neigh of the war-horse and the clatter of march- 1 Ing men.t In the ancient and populous county I of Hampshire there was no lack .of I leaders or of soldiers for a service which promised either honor or profit. Greatest of all the musters. however, was that at Twynhamn Castle. for the name and the fame of Sir Nigel Loringc drew toward him the keenest and bold- I est spirits, all eager to serve under so valiant a leader. Archers from the New Forest and the Forest of Bere, blillmen from the pleasant country I which is watered by the Stour, the Avon, and the Itchen, young cavaliers from the ancient Hampshire houses, allc were pushing for Christchurch to take service under the banner ef the five scarlet roses. And now. could Sir Nigel have shownt tahe hachelles of land which the laws of rank required, he might well havet cut his forked pennon into a squarei banner, and taken such a fellowing intoe the fild as would have supported the dignity of a bannercet. But poverty was heavy upon him: his land was scant, his eoffers empty. and the veryj castle which covered him the holding of another. Sore was his heart when he saw rare bowmen and war-hardenedr spearmen turned away from his gates for the lack of the money which mighti equain and pay them. Yet the letterr which Aylward had broughit him gave< him powers which he was not slow to use. In it Sir Claude Latour. the Gas con lieutenant of the White Comnpany, assured him that there remainedI i his keeping enough to fit out a hundred archers and twenty men-at-arms. I, which, joined to the three hundred v'-t eran comnlfanions already in France. would make a force which any leader ft -ih be proud to command. Care-Jt yrighted. 1894.By Harper & psis of preced'.g chapters at and of this installment. ullv and sagaciously the veteran night chose out his men from the warm of volunteers. Many an anxious onsultation he held with Black Simon, ;am Aylward. and others of his more xperienced followers, as to who should ome and who should stay. By All aint's Day. however. he had filled up tis full numbers, and mustered under is banner as stout a following of Yampshire foresters -.s ever twanged heir war-bows. Twenty men-at-arms. oo, well mounted and equipped, formed he cavalry of the party, while young >eter Terlake of Fareham. and Walter ord of Botley. the martial sons of nartial sires, came at their own cost o wait upon Sir Nigel and to share vith Alleyne Edricson the duties ot tis squireship. Yet. even after the enrolment, there vas much to be done ere tie party ould proceed upon its way. For ar nor. swords, and lances there was no eed to take much forethought, for hey were to be had better and cheaper n Bordeaux than in England. With he long-bow. however, it was differ nt. Yew-staves indeed might be got n Spain, but it was well to take enough nd to spare with him. Then three pare cords should be carried for each ow, with a great store of arrow-heads, esides the brigandines of chain-mail, he wadded steel caps, and the bras arts or arm-guards, which were the roper equipment of the archer. Above .11, the women for miles round were tard at work cutting the white sur oats which were the badge of the ompany, and adorning them with the ed lion of St. George upon the centre f the breast. When all was completed nd the muster called in the castle ard. the oldest soldier of the French vars was fain to confess that he had tever looked upon a better equipped or nore warlike body of men, from the mnight with his silk jupon. sitting his rent black war-horse in the front of hem, to Hordle John. the giant re ruit, who leaned carelessly upon a iuge black bow-stave in the rear. Of he six score, fully half had seen ser ice before, while a fair sprinkling ere men who had followed the wars 11 their lives, and had a hand in those attles which had made the whole orld ring with the fame and the won ter of the English infantry. Six long weeoks were taken in these ireparations, and it Was close on !far inmas ere all was ready for a start. igh two months had Alleyne Edric t// 1 ren ofhs fe tivritfo ha dakan onl /bun towar /hc ttneadt ud tit reerand ore unli chanels Al 'ed-ehdland obeshsfte orta /iepoiinwihhdmd ti 'ekt ko h oldeeh a oescrbed ihn Catle Twmam-m fth ov-h avih woves fatdho turnke whoe ueren ofasultyfen t divertlessfand ht ardsi and lorrow; boutre tward rirtues, tein, ad tot gudetino eptatin which sunlit hannels. inAl eyhe uhadlant bl esstssfftheraa ere th wsieprson which ame maom aility to sn, the worlquest hih asntred renoune frmth. ney Fort Berhesh as ifrn pldae frot hat whic he bette pitured-this if-l ent, fro tived whic hie ha hiear eschd swofyend inhexibste of thea no ceshedefrtam to his charge utono In urning frolvte wheredfteon te hatofd the ptecfu olldyn cofl feie her e was culwering i doutmss ndfe utendefoinhano sorrow hours wereythe tep.ain h ict-eld theownaifn him el ough aty ofir tes worady .knig how olorles supye coan ap-ve eihared the pintlenerwich frome ferm on bfiyo sthe comnqehs hrse na attaoind byfli from thea mat rms hbetr thaon agaist kindl onigt who liaved ashimpleom life testers lotywad inhexiorld? Here ideayo vter ame fora hour hadter does, nifom heu efrvie vesf r.heet hato hmef oter lse couldnot feel hate aes. lwernghi aims finrf.n 11teefore foub sevnors fryom htrv in theil-eyenc to qalifyncim niguhtk sYounthy supplesand eactie. enth rasoone peto enerthat from yeas -f pue nnd helthyn iself. Wih waslnot And beor the coud manae hoins hors n hs weanilt wenle.ng oernd rs.r worltohodwis onih ans Ter nzzut were her vayn oe oser u ns wrhnicswaed huik frsente l ostr oardnthe anwnorter Dday tet dayfr an hur athe drones, nd for anthor bomrne vrspersna it"- hshel i troseh muio withr hreie miidnd. allavng allfer aond Iw-eth-rrtforeddeubnyherntenche froml ehomokihr stn-it.het the found. rear ro^oull tonlea nwas moit onrtlol and b stin sef. mhirh nole iev netunl. han.A dier, and uxed in her mrin.Aloo, miht tak .Brot eT - heroes, of gallant deeds and lofty aims, or he might hold forth upon moon and stars, and let his fancy wander over the hidden secrets of the universe, and he would have a rapt listener with flushed cheeks and eloquent eyes, who could repeat after him the very words which had fallen from his lips. But when it came to alInagest and astrol able, the counting of figures and reck oning of epicycles, away would go her thoughts to horse and hound. and a va cant eye and listless face wv ald warn the teacher that he had lost his hold upon his scholar. Then he had but to bring out the old romance-book from the Priory, with befingered cover of sheepskin and gold letters upon a pur ple ground to entice her wayward mind back to the paths of learning. At times, too, when the wild fit was upon her, she would break into pert ness and rebel openly against Alleyne's gentle firmness. Yet he would jog quietly on with his teachings, taking no heed to her mutiny, until suddenly she would be conquered by his patience, and break Into self-revilings a hun dred times stronger than her fault de manded. It chanced, however, that, on one of these mornings when the evil mood was upon her. Agatha. the young tire-woman, thinking to please her mis tress, began also to toss her head and make tart rejoinder to the teacher's questions. In an instant the Lady Maude had turned upon her two blaz ing eyes and a face which was blanched with anger. "You would dare!" said she. "You would dare!" The frightened tire-woman tried to excuse herself. "But, my fair lady, she stammered, "what have I done? I have said no more than I heard." "You would dare!" repeated the lady. in a choking voice. "You, a graceless baggage, a foolish lack-brain, with no thought above the hemming of shifts! And he so kindly and hendy and long suffering! You would-ha, you may well flee the room!" She had snoken with a rising voice, and a clasping and opening of her long white fingers, so that it was no marvel that. ere the speech was over, the skirts of Agatha were whisking round the door and the click of her sobs to be heard dying swiftly away down the corridor. Alleyne starcd oren-eyed at this tigress who had sprung so suddenly to his rescue. "There is no need for such anger," he said mildly. "The maid's ; [E IS HNA ORE HU wordshave one m no sath. Ii woras hve hold mincs nou. Itwise that there is not a second one." "Nay, nay, no one has misused me." he answered. "But the fault i!es in your hot and bitter words. You have called her a baggage and a lack-brain, and I know not what." "And you are he who taught mae av speak the truth" she cried. "Now I have spoken it. and yet I cannot please you. Lack-brain she is, and lack-brain I shall call her." Such was a sample of the sudden jangliugs which marred the peace of that little class. And yet, there were times when Alleyne had to ask himaself whether it was not the Lady Maude who was gaining sway and Influence over him. If she were changing. so was he. In vain he strove and reasoned with himself as to the madness of let ting his mind rest upon Sir Nigel's daughter. Stronger than reason, strong er than cloister teachings, stronger han all that might hold him back, was that old, old tyrant who will brook no rival in the kingdom of youth. He had scarce dared to face the change which had come upon him, when a few sudden charce words showea it all up hard and clear, like lightning in the darkness. Hie had ridden n'ver to Poole. one 'november day, with his fellow-squire. Peter Terlake. in quest of certain yew staves from Wat Swathling, the Dor setshire armorer. Peter was a hard, wiry brown-faced country-bred lad, who looked on the coming war as the school-hoy looks on his holidays. This day, however, he had been sombre and mut'e. with scarce a word a mile to be stow upon hIs comrade. "Tell me. Alleyne Edricson." he broke out suddenly. "has it not seemed to you tht of late the Lady Maude is naler and more silent thon'is her wont?" "It may be so," the other answered shorthy. "And would rather sit elistrait by her ore! than ride gavlv to the chase as of old. Methinks. Allevne. it in this learn ing which ynn have tan.ht her that has taken all the life and sap from "Wecr lady-mother has so ordered it," sid Allevna. "Tb. nur T~aov! and 'withnnten dierc eneet." (1unth Terlako. "it is in mv mind -"' her Indv-mother le moro f"+.' t^ ad a compnny to a stormine than to hn'ro tho uipbrineing of this tcnder nna ~ilk-white mnia. IThrk. ye. lad Allovne. to what T never told won or wman yet. T love the fair T.adv M'ade and wonld rive the last dron of mr" hort's blood to servo her" I-o srokc with a enasping voice, nd hie fae flushod crimson in the monnlight. All"'no sniid nothin'e. hut hig he seemed to turn to a lump of ice in his bosom. "Mv father han broad anes." the to the slope of the Portsdown Hill. Sure am I that Sir Nigel would be olithc at such a match." -But how the lady?" asked Alleyne, ta uit ry lips. "Ah,. lad! tere lies my trouble. It is :1 to'S LA the nead and a druop of the cycs if I say one word of wnat is in my .mau. i uid uut ask her yester-night ior ner green veil, that I migit -bear it a- a token or lambrequin upon my ului; ut us .e niasUed out at me that .1eV pt tfor a better nian, and then ail in a breatU asKed pardon or that snie' iiad spoite so rudely. Yet she would not take back tie words either, iur wuUld sue giant tiLe veil. tias it seemned to thee, Alleyne, that sue loves any one?" "Nay, I cannot say," said Alleyne, with a wiid tarOU % Suuue lie ill iiis heart. "I have thought so, and yet I can not name tie man. Indeed, save my self, and Walter Ford. and you, who are half a clerk, and Father Christo pher of the Priory, and Bertrand tile page, who is there whom she sees?" "I cannot tell," quoth Alleyne shortly; and the two squires rode on a gain, each intent upon his own thoughts. Next day at morning lesson the teacher observed that his pupil was indeed looking pale and jaded, with listless eyes and a weary manner. le was heavy-hearted to note the change in her. "Your mistress. I fear, is ill, Agatha." he said to the tire-woman, when the Lady Maude had sought her chamber. The maid looker aslant at him with laughing eyes. "It is not an illness that kills." quoth she. "Pray God not!" he cried. "But tell me, Agatha. what is it that ails her?" "Me thinks that I could lay my hand upon another who is smittcn with the same trouble," said she, with the same sidelong look. "Canst not give a name to it. and thou so skilled in lecchcraft?" "Nay, save that she seems aweary." "Well, bethink you that it is but three days ere you will be gone, and Castle Twynham be as dull as the priory. Is there not enough there to cloud a lady's brow?" "In sooth, yes." ie answered. "I had forgot that she is about to lose her father." "Her father:" cried the tire-woman, with a little tr.Il of laughter. "Oh, simple, simple!" And she was off down the passage like arrow from bow, while Alleyne stood gazing after her, be twixt hope and doubt, scarce daring to put faith in the meaning which seemed to underlie her-v'ords. CHAPTER X. St. Luke's day had come and had gone. and it was in the season of Martinmas, that the White Company was ready for its journey. Loud shrieked the brazen bugles from keep and from gate-way, and merry was the rattle of the war-drum. as the men gathered in the outer bailey, with torches to light them, for the morn had not yet broken. Alleyne. from the window of the armory, looked down upon the strange scene-the circles of yellow flickering light, the lines of stern and bearded faces, the quick shimmer of arms, and the lean heads of the horses. In front stood th bow men, ten deep, with a fringe of under officers. who paced hither and thither. marshalling the ranks with curt pre cept or sharp rebuke. Behind were the little clump of stecl-clad horse men. their lances raised, with long nensils drooping down the oaken shaf Is So silent and still were they that they might have been metal-sheethed stat ues, were it not for the Q casl.al quick A sper' e i f the spare and long-limbed figure of. Black Simon. the Norwich fighting man, his fierce, deep lined face framed in steel and the silk guidon, marked with the five scarlet roses, slanting over his broad right shoulder. The young squire was leaning for ward gazing at the stirring and martial scene, when he heard a short quick gasp at his shoulder, and there was tho Lady Maude with her hand to her heart, leaning up against the wall, slender and fair, like a half-plucked lily. I1er face was turned away from him, but he could see, by the sharp intake of her breath, that she was weeping bitterly. "Alas! alas!" he cried, all unnerved at the sight. "why is it that you are so sad, lady?" "It Is the sIght of these brave men." she answered; "and to think how many of them go and how few are like te find their way back. .I have seen .it before, when I was a little maid, in the year of the Prince's great battle I remember then how they mustered in the balley, even as they do now. and my lady-mother holding me in her arms at this very window that I might see the show." "Please God, you will see them all back ere another year be out." said he She shook her head, looking round at him with flushed cheeks and eyes which sparkled in the lamp-light. "Oh, but I hate myself for being a woman. she cried, with a stamp of her little foot. "What can I do that is good? Here I must bide and talk and sew and spin, and spin and sew and talk Ever the same dull round, with nothing at the end of it. And now you are going, too, who could carry my thoughts out of these gray walls, and raise my mind above tapestry and distaffs. What can I do? I am of ne more use or value than that broken 'ow-stave." "You are of such value to me." he cried. In a whirl of hot. passionalfte words. "that all else has be'cOm'. naught. You are my heart. me life my one and only thought. Oh. Maudo T cannot live without you! I cannot leav-e you without a word of love- l is cha'need to me since I have know vo T am noor and lowly and .al unworthy: hut if great love may weigh down such defects, then mine may do it. Give me hut one word of hope to tke to the wars with me. but one. A' voul shrink. vou shudder! My wild words have frichtened you-" Twice she opened her lips, and twice no sound 'ame from them. At last he spoke in n hard and measure/! voice, as one who dare not trust herself to speak too freelv. "This is oyer-siudden." she said: "It is not so long since the world was nothin tonno. You have changed once; perchance you may change again. Cruel:" he cried. "Who hath chanlgeu mer' --Anl? tun' your brother:" she con tinued Witn a little laugn, disregard ing his question. "'Metninks this hatbh become a larziy CUSLUm a.aungst the Eiricsons. .Nay, 1 am surry; I did not mean a jibe. But, indeed, Alleyne, this hath :uiie quiely upon me, and I scarce know what to say. -bay somie word ut nope, however distant-sume kinmd word tnat i may cherish inl My leart." "Nay, Alivyie, it were a cruel kind ness, and you iiave been to good and true a irintiA Lu me Luat I siuoaid Use you deSiLcUlty. Tiere _cannot be a cioser i L;etwl been . .i iLs uneiluss to think of it. Were there n1u otlie reasons, it is enougn ti.aL my fauem and your brother w ould oota cry out against it.* "'1y brother, what has he to do with it? And y-our father -" "Come, Alieyne, was it not you who would have me act fairly to all men, and certels, to my .atner amongst them?" "You say truly," he cried, "you say truly. But you do not reject me, Maude? You give me some ray of hope? I do not ask pledge or promise Say only that I arn not hateful to you-that on some happier day I may hear kinder words from you." Her eyes softened upon him, and a heartfelt answer was on her lips, when a hoarse shout, with the clatter of arms ard stamping of steeds, rose up from the bailey below. At the I sound her face set, her eyes sparkled, and she stood with flushed cheek and c head thrown back-a woman's body, but a soul of fire. ."My father hath gone down," she cried. "Your place is by his side. Nay, look not at me. Alleyne. It Is no time for dallying. Win my father's t love, and all may follow. It is when the brave soldier hath done his devoir that he hopes for his reward. Fare well, and may God be with you!" She heldout her white, slim hand. to him, but as he bent his lips over it she whisked away and was gone, leaving in his outstretched hand the ve'ry green veil for which Peter Terlake had craved in vain. Again the hoarse cheering bt:rst out from below, and he heard the clang of the rising portcul lis. Pressing the veil to his lips, he thrust it into the bosom of his tunic, and rushed as fast as feet could bear him to arm himself and join the muster. The raw morning had broken ere the hot spiced ale was served round and last farewell spoken. First came Black Simon with his banner, bestrid Ing a lean and powerful dapple-gray charger, as hard and wiry as himself. After him, riding three avreast, were nine men-at-arms, all picked soldiers, who had followed the French wars before.x, So, with jingle of arms and clatter of hoofs, they rode across the, Bridge of Avon, while the burghers I Shouted for the flag of the five roses and its gallant guard. Close at the heels of the horses came two-score archers, burly an' mostly bearded, their round targets on their backs and Their long yellow bows, the most deadly weapon that the wit of man had yet devised, thrusting forth from behird their shoulders. From each man's girdle hung sword or axe, according to his humor, and over his rizlht hip there jutted out Zhe)eathern quiver, with its bristle of goose, pigeon, -md peacocl: feathers. So wel* toast altogether To the 'ray Goose Feather, And lie land where tpe Gray Goose flew. Behind the bowmen strode two i trumpeters bowing upon nakirs, and I two drummers in poeti-colored clothes. After them came twenty-seven sump ter-horses carrying tent poles, cloth, spare arms, spurs, wedges, c oking I kettles, horseshoes, bags of nai, and 1 the hundred other things which ex perience had shown to be needful In a harried hostile country. A white mule with red trappings, led by a varlet. carried Sir Nigel's own napery and table comfcrts. Then came two-score more archers, ten more men-at-arms, an), finallIy a rear-guard of twenty bowmen, with big John towering in the front rank and the veteran Aylward marching by his side, his battered har ness and fa-led surcoat in strange con trast with The snow-white jupons and shining bricandines of his companions. A quick c:ross-fire of greetings and questions and rough West Saxon jests flow from resnk to rank, or wore bandied about betwixt the marching archers and the gazing crowd. The Company had marched to the turn of the road ere Sir Nigel Loring rode out fromn the gate-way, mounted~l on Pommers, his great black war I war-horse, whose ponderous footfallI on the wooden drawbridge echoed I loudlf from the gloomy arch which I velvet dress of peace, with fiat velvet cap of maintenance, and curling ostrich feather clasped in a golden broooh. He bore no arms save the long andI What Does 9%" ~ up kc Such 03 in Holmes' next adventure, h< confronted by the cabalistic il in "The Sign of the fo1 These two, the first and best of the Shb ing. bound elegantly in a single big volu & Bros.' regular $1.50 linen imperial edita Here is a chance to get two of the most most beautifully printed and bound edition FRE #IH IE B OOK. ena Be sure and use this Coupon, sending 50< HARPER & BROS., Fran] Name......................--- ...------. Strcet........................ TOWn...........se. **********o.ee-* aeavy sword which hung at his sad Ile-bow; but Terlake carried in frost )f him the high wivern-crested bassi iet, Ford the heavy ash speaLr wih swallow-tall pennon, while Alleyve was entrusted with the emblazoned shield. The Lady Loring rode her palfrey at her lord's bridle-arm, for she would see him as far as the edge >f the forest, and ever and anon sue urned her hardlined face up wistfully :o him and ran a questioning eye over xis apparel and appointments. "I trust that ther - nothieng forgot," ;he said, beckoning to Alleyne to ride m her farther side. "I trust him tO iou, Edricson. Hosen, shirts, cyclas, Ind under-jupons are in the brown )asket on the left side of the mule; 1is wine he takes hot when the night' tre cold, malvoise or vernage, with is much spice as would cover the humb-nail. See that he hath a change f he comes back hot from the tilting. here is goose-grease in a box, if th ld scars ache at the turn of t veather. The purse I have alre "ven you, Edricson,- continued t 1ady. "There are in it twenty narks, one noble, three shillings ourpence, which is a great treas or one man to carry. And I pray o bear in m~ind, Edri-zson, that iath two pair of shoes, those of eather for common use, and the ot vith golden toechains, which he vear should he chance to drink vith the Prince or with Chando." "My sweet bird," said Sir Nigel, r right loath to part, but we Low at the fringe of tae forest, t is not right that I should take hatelaine too far from her trust." "But, oh, my dear lord." she vith a trembling lip, "let me vith you for one furlong furthe me and a' half, perhaps. You pare me this out of the weary ml hat you will journey alone." "Come then. my heart's comfort," Lnswered. "But I must crave a rom thee. It is my custom, dar In nd hath been since I have first Une hee, to proclaim by herald In sue amps, townships, or fortalices. as nay chance to visit, that: my lady-love >eing beyond compare the fairest and iweetest in Christendom, I should leem it great honor and kindly conde., ;cension If any cavalier would run :hree courses against me with shar >ened lances, should he chance to hav t lady whose claim heb was willing o advance. I pray you then, my fair love, that you will vouchsafe t* me ne of those doe-skin gloves, that I nay wear it as the badge of her whose ;ervant I shall ever be." "Alack and alas for the fairest and ;weetest!" she cried. "Fair and sweet would fain be for your dear sake, my ord, but old I am and ugly, and the enights would laugh should you lay ance in rest in such a cause." "Edricson," quoth Sir Nigel, "you iave young eyes, and mine are sume ,hat bedimmed. Should you chance to see a knight laugh, or smile, or nven look., arch his brows, or purse his mouth, or in any way show sure ,rise that I should uphold the Lady klary, you will take particular note >f his name, his coat-armor, and his odging. Your love, my life's desire!" The Lady Mary Loring sliDped her iand from her yellow leather gauntlet, ind he, lifting It with dainty revfr mce, bound it to the front of his velvet :ap. "It Is with mine other guardian ingels," quoth he, pointing at the saint's medals which hung beside It. 'And now, my dearest, you have come ar enough, May the Virgin guard and yrosper thee! One kiss!" he bent down' 'rom his saddle, and then, striking iptfrs into his horse's sides, he galloped Lt top speed after his men, with his :hree squires at his heels. Half a mile urther, where the road topped a hill, hey looked back, and the Lady Mary, an her white palfrey, was still where hey had left her. A moment later they vere on the downward slope, and she mad vanished from their view. (To be Continued 27eat We&.) Synopsis of Preceding Chapters. Tho scenes of the story are laid in the 14th eentnir Horde .lukn or tho Clasren 3'ni.wry, ILea from tho Abbe" of Beaulieu. guilty of certain serios charaw brought agaln't im by a number of * ",o innk'u A th"r of thn lac-b r n wHAeye W_ bea 1 fgoo frno year tchosorh self his future calling. In sadiness ho goes to visit is brother, the Soemun of Mlinstead. whoie reputation iunsa ory, At niht A1ynare L a rra die, Alleyn ids lbrotherin ?lle ed woosqarroi ins with a beautiful damscl. Hc rescnes he r,theb that he Intends to in a comn n,w'VYs7 wihu ellngi hraee puzzjlnalcin Fa serewsnht Blood smc ec ,rei apareohans crtimel had bnr eeAlyn et i comed, ostared wins wh lefanc~te culdte ofS ouKg Tanhi mean? waS the proble hc puzzLng tOMShing0sh- rnoughlyr~ dhoiplavedt in l'nhe tudy of Sarhouse : ahc madeCOA crimE thafrd l'dtcieiesin the old.yo wms tin problnaed wloth oarLHrpe Eo), , se tosaid wi this coupnsto [iensl itersindfy dnue in arlt forijus onehr COprice. th fr ndsoetev coppersi h-engravuredo lock Holmes, nrieled o00 paehoeade onen pspa, wuithhe coforrmng.o iensel Stesin of adont res ru Sqnare, N. Y. City