man, who was well aware of the consequence which must follow, if he was caught, for disarming the King, turned a little to the left, where several grooms, still held the steeds in readiness for their masters, (many of whom had followed their sovereign on foot from the court-yard, and halted behind to witness the scene which had so unexpectedly prevented their departure,) and striking down a menial with his clenched fist, he sprang into the saddle, and set off at full speed in the direction of the forest, followed by the hound.

The palfrey which he had mounted was one destined for the king, and was intended to be led through the chase, until the steed on which the monarch was then seated should have grown weary. Nor could the club-bearer have chosen a swifter, or more beautiful animal, had he sought throughout Christendom; for, with the speed of thought, it swept over the expansive heath, and, in a few moments, both horse and rider had entered the skirts of the forest, and far distanced all pursuers.

Uttering a thousand curses on the heads of his followers, and the daring stranger, who, with his hound, had escaped all pursuit, King

John reined in his steed at the verge of the heath, and awaited the approach of his retinue, who were followed by a crowd on foot, whooping, and hallooing, and rejoicing at the good fortune of the man who had escaped, and entirely disregarding the angry looks of the

nobles.

Along a bridle-path, here and there overhung with dwarf oaks and stunted hawthorns, which led direct to where the king had halted, approached the Earl of Eltham and Edith; the brave knight having succeeded in persuading his fair kinswoman to venture abroad, and witness the chase, to which Edith had given rather a tacit consent, although, she well knew that she could not entrust herself under safer keeping than De Lacy's. Geoffrey de Marchmont and the constable of Chester had given up their chase after the club-bearer, and also halted beside the king, where they were stationed, when the earl and his fair charge approached.

The king rode up with an air of politeness, which became him well; and, doffing his gaudy hunting-bonnet, saluted the lady. Nor could those around avoid remarking the sudden change of his countenance, which, from raging

passion, was so momentarily turned to all the calmness of unaffected courtesy. But this was one of the remarkable traits in King John's character; his temper was unsteady and fickle as the wind, veering alike from friend to foe, and seldom certain upon any occasion, unless to nourish revenge.

The constable of Chester scowled darkly at the earl; but the latter returned his frown with a calm glance, from which few could have inferred, that they stood on terms of mortal defiance. De Marchmont gazed upon Edith with an intensity, which caused his deep-sunk and fierce eyes, to appear like lighted torches, seen in a dark cavern; so much did the overhanging brows contrast with the bright orbs beneath. But the lady observed not this, as she appeared intent on listening to the compliments showered upon her by King John; than whom, none was better skilled in the flattering language of chivalry, so much in vogue, when addressing the fair sex in that age.

By my royal crown!" said the king, looking fixedly at Edith, until the lady was obliged to lower her lovely eyes and avert her head,"By my royal crown-a paltry bauble to name

beside thy peerless beauty-but I would wager it, that not a hound moves in the slot this day, if they but once catch sight of thy bright eyes, they will take thee for Diana the goddess of love."

Nay, my liege!" replied Edith, smiling at the monarch's error; "methinks that you have forgotten your love-lore, while you thus confound the goddess of dogs, with she of the sparrows."

"Ay, marry, I wonder not," answered the king, "that I confound the goddesses together, when I see all their charms embodied in one, and am in the presence of that divinity."

"Your majesty is in the merry mood to-day," said Edith; "it were pity that I chose such an ill-toward season to appear in your presence, as the last."

Nay, now thou hast hit me fairly on the helmet," answered the king, staggering for a moment under such an unexpected attack; "an' thou hadst asked me for aught beside, I had not said thee nay, and will again lay my will open to thy wishes, providing, thou touchest not on the matter of thy marriage."

"Nay, my liege," said Edith, "I failed in

obtaining my last boon; and, I fear me, have not courage enough to crave another, though so kindly held out to me."

"On the word of a king," said the monarch, "and by the honour of chivalry, I will make thee amends for my last refusal. Name what thou willest, and it shall be granted, so that it be not beyond our power to give."

"I cannot crave a boon of your Majesty, in this generous mood," replied Edith, putting on one of those winning smiles, which have cost kings their kingdoms, and conquerors all the glory of their conquests.

"By the bones of all the saints!" exclaimed the king, "we will leave thee no room to doubt our intention. When thou returnest this cross, thy request shall be granted, be it noon or night, in the camp or in the city." Saying which, he took from his neck a richly wrought gold chain, to which was appended a splendid crucifix of brilliants, and threw it around the neck of Edith.

"I will remember your pledge, my liege," said Edith, bowing her beautiful head so low, that her floating ringlets fell over the arched neck of her palfrey.