tinged her thoughts with its love-fraught influence for many a subsequent one. With her waking thoughts, however, she became more than ever aware how impossible it would be to bestow on the real Chievosa the warm and tender feelings which, waking or sleeping, she fondly lavished on the imaginary one. First love!-thou brightest, most true, most generous impulse of our nature-art thou not often the offspring of a dream? Dost thou not often resolve thyself into one? Thou sweet law of nature, immutable as nature's self, can wretchedness of any kind affright thee away? Thou art indeed a hardy plant, and wilt grow apace amid blighting tempests and on barren rocks. Birthright of all alike, no circumstances, however unfavourable and chilling, can deprive the pure and the young of thy one "green spot in memory's waste!" CHAPTER XXX. WHEN Arkel returned to the inn, he sought out and despatched, that very night, a messenger to Paul, urging his immediate return; which, however, owing to the multifarious matters on which the latter was engaged, did not take place until the further expiration of three or four weeks. The first person Paul encountered on entering the town was his young friend, who had been constantly on the look-out for him, and who now circumstantially, so far as he was able, related what had happened— his meeting with Margaret in the garden-her tale of her father's incarceration, and the inexplicable conduct of the Spaniard-the advice he had given her to make a personal appeal to the Prince of Orange, and the result of that interview which he had contrived should be a secret one. Arkel further related, that feeling this aggression against an unoffending citizen to be an infringement of the assurances so lately given by the regent, he had laid the affair before Brederode, but that he had found him better acquainted with all the details than he was himself. How the count had come by his information, which was too correct to have proceeded from mere public rumour, it was not easy to conjecture; but he had been very loud against the outrage, and not a little assisted the Prince of Orange in obtaining the interference of the duchess, the effect of which was, the deliverace of Cornelius into the hands of the civil authorities. Paul listened to the greater part of this recital in moody silence; for, as he had long since foreseen some such event, no surprise was mingled with the indignation he felt at his brother's imprisonment; but the warmth with which Arkel, Brederode, and the Prince of Orange had espoused his cause, elicited from him a few grateful expressions, which, to one who knew his nature, showed that he deeply felt the obligation. The spirited conduct of his niece, too, drew from him the meed of approbation, which, could she have heard it, would have repaid her for all the exertion this act of filial piety had cost her. Paul was then informed that it was necessary he should instantly repair to the Prince of Orange, who had expressed a desire to see him on his return, and, when his interview should be over, to the Count de Brederode, who was anxious about the result of his mission to the provinces. Acting upon this suggestion, he lost no time in presenting himself at the palace, where he found numerous and diverse groups in the ante rooms, awaiting the prince's leisure; but upon his name being announced to the gentlemen in waiting, much to the discontent of those who had been longer in attendance, he was immediately granted an audience. When Paul entered, the prince was pacing the apartment, whilst several persons, sitting at different tables, were writing rapidly to his dictation; but on hearing Paul's name he paused, and by a grave inclination of his head and wave of the hand, signified his desire that he should walk into the room beyond. may "I had you called here," said the prince, upon joining him, "for a twofold reason, Master van Meeren; but the principal one is, that I have the pleasure of announcing to you, myself, one of the first acts of justice performed by me upon my arrival in this town, which will, I trust, take place no later than to-morrow-I mean your brother's final liberation." Paul hastened to express his thanks, but the prince interrupted him. "There is a piece of advice I would add to this communication, which you will do well to attend to. Suffer not your brother to tarry in Antwerp; nay, it were better that he did not even return to his home. Make him, if possible, disappear on the very day of his liberation. Let all trace of him be lost; for if private enmity, which I have but too much cause to believe, be the secret lever of the misfortune that has befallen him, it is the more expedient that he withdraw himself at once from its influence. I could not, and certainly the Count of Brederode still less, rescue him a second time." "It has ever been my opinion, your highness, that flight is the only safeguard to the weak. For myself "The other subject," said the prince, again interrupting him, "upon which I was desirous of speaking, is the position of the party you have espoused in this city; for, I conclude my informations are correct, which point you out as the head of the Lutherans in Antwerp." "I have not the pretension to call myself their chief, although I will freely declare myself one of their champions." "I rely much," resumed the prince, "upon the good sense; nay, I will speak it out, the talents which some of your anonymous friends have led me to expect in you, and I am anxious to enlist that good sense, those talents, and the prudence that, doubtless, accompanies them in favour of order. You men of Antwerp seem to have lost every trace of it, at the same time that you appear disposed to throw off your allegiance. Not true to the king, you are not even true to yourselves. Lutherans and Calvinists are at variance with each other; and if you do not take measures to prevent it, a feud will soon break out among you as disastrous in its effects as the persecution of which you complain so bitterly. Is it by splitting your faith into so many schisms that you would impose respect upon an opposite creed? Is it by disturbing the town by your broils that you would induce the king to treat you as loyal and peaceful subjects?" "No one," said Paul, when the prince paused, "can feel more deeply than myself the egregious folly of such divisions at so critical a moment -no one can be more keenly alive to the truth of the maxim-'Union is strength;' but hitherto my arguments and my efforts have been unavailing to convince others." SIR HILDEBRAND, though he had obtained the promise of a safe conduct for his messenger, was at a loss whom to employ on such a difficult errand. After, therefore, thinking the matter over for some time, he determined to have recourse to his familiar. The oracle, without an instant's delay, responded: "Send Sir Eustace for thy bride! None beside-none beside; Only he can quell her pride! Send Sir Eustace for thy bride!" Though at first rather astonished at this response, after a little consideration the baron acquiesced in the wisdom of his adviser. "Probably," said he, "the princess has taken a fancy to the good-looking young fellow; if so, nothing will so dispose her to listen to my suit as having it pleaded by her lover." So saying, he conveyed Sir Eustace by magic power into a solitary chamber in one of the eastern towers, and presenting himself before him whilst he slept, called him by name. Eustace started to his feet, and was much astonished at seeing the change which had apparently taken place in his apartment since the preceding night. 66 "I hope that you have slept well," said Sir Hildebrand, assuming his gentlest tone; I trust, however, that you will not prove so indissolubly attached to the castle of Schreckenstein as not to be disposed to exchange its stern walls for the open air and blue sky." "I have certainly no wish to remain here longer than I am compelled to do." 66 Well, then, are you disposed to carry these three letters from the Baron of Schreckenstein-the first to Sir Reginald, the second to the Princess Alethè, and the third to Sir Edred of Drontheim? Will you bring me the answers to all of them, and then immediately set out, in company with your pious uncle Aelfric, and your godly friend Sir Ernest of Arnheim, on a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre ?" "I must, in the first place, know the purport of thy letters ere I promise to carry them; I must, in the next place, ask what thou hast done to the noble knight, Sir Edred of Drontheim; and I must, in the last place, inquire what interest either thou or thine think proper to take in the Holy Sepulchre?" "Know then, that I demand and will obtain the hand of the Princess Alethè, whether thy valiant prowess thinketh it meet or not. Know also, that the first letter is to advertise his venerable regentship that unless within seven days after the arrival of my envoy the Lady Alethè comes here as my bride, I will throw open the pass which this castle commands to the vast horde of Avars who are at present restrained from further advance by the strong barrier of the Alff Mountains. My second letter is to inform my beloved that her father shall never leave this fortress until she has entered it. My third missive is a mortal challenge to the Knight of the Red Dragon. As to what I did with that valiant sorcerer, I will briefly tell thee: I gave him a cool and shady lodging, to cool his hot blood and fevered brain; and I likewise confined his limbs, lest he should do either himself or others serious injury. On my visiting him two days since, to inquire after his health, I found that he had escaped; and, on questioning my adviser on the point, I learnt that he was on his way to the court at Arlstadt, to pay his addresses to the lovely princess, who probably may be in want of a little consolation during thy lamented absence. Lastly, oh! valiant younker, know that I deem thy face somewhat too fair for manly beauty, and am desirous, therefore, that thou shouldst tan it with the suns of Palestine, for at present its charms are more likely to be appreciated by marriageable maidens than by stout warriors." "I bear no such missives—I submit to no such conditions,” replied the youth. "If I cannot gain my freedom upon honourable terms, I will relinquish it for ever." "Look yonder," said the baron, "and count, if thou canst, the foes of thy fatherland!" Sir Eustace looked out of the narrow loophole which, as we have before observed, fronted eastward, and, far as the eye could reach over the vast plain, he beheld the encampment of the barbarian invaders. They seemed as numerous as the stars of the sky or the locusts of the field. In several spots were seen collections of tents, with guards around them, whilst one of these assemblages attracted the eye more especially, from the imperial standard which floated from a lofty pole that rose from the centre of the most conspicuous tent. Terrible was the appearance of that standard—a blood-red ground, with a death's head in the middle, surmounted by the royal crown of the Avars, and garnished around by instruments of torture. And if this device needed commentary or paraphrase, it was furnished by the volumes of smoke that rose in every direction from blazing villages; by the herds of miserable captives, bound together in couples, and goaded into enclosures hastily erected for the purpose; and by fierce bands of savage horsemen, who were seen scouring the country in every direction, for pleasure, plunder, or car nage. Sir Hildebrand watched the effect of this scene upon his captive, and then said, in a tone of bitter but quiet irony, "Dost see yon gallant army of mild and gentle conquerors? Wouldst counsel Prince Reginald and his niece to give them free passage through this gorge? Thinkest that the homes of Almaine require to be warmed by the fires they are wont to kindle, her sons to be thinned by their swords, her daughters wooed by their arms? Look well to it, Sir Eustace. If thou dost my bidding, not one of yon vast multitude shall return alive to the Scythian Desert; if thou refuse to do it, the fire, and the plunder, and the blood, and the captivity, and the pollution, and the sacrilege that must-ay! that shall ensue, will be upon thine head. Choose, young man !-choose!" "I have chosen. Thinkest thou, evil man, whom I shame to address by the title of knighthood-thinkest thou that either Sir Reginald or any other would trust to the word or honour of one who had thought of leaguing with its bitterest and foulest foes against the peace and purity of his fatherland? Out upon thee for a villain and a dastard! Out upon thee, I say!" "I will tame thy pride, rash boy," replied the false knight; "bone by bone shalt thou be crushed and tortured, limb by limb shalt thou be burnt. Take courage! thou shalt have a goodly crown of martyrdom. And fear not death; I have drugs that will keep life in thee whilst one ounce of flesh or one inch of boue remains." "Villain avaunt!" cried Eustace, and attempted to draw his sword. He found it, however, impossible to do so, and as he raised his hand to strike the baron, his arm fell powerless by his side. "False wizard!" exclaimed he, "who art obliged to use vile arts of magic against those whom thou darest not meet in the open field on equal terms, I would I could have a bout with thee, either on foot or horseback, where thy spells could not avail thee!" "Indeed! Well, I do not blame thee. This colloquy must, however, conclude; since thou wilt not be the bearer of my message, I must find another envoy. I will return ere long-don't make thyself uneasy-thy enjoyments shall soon begin!" And, leaving Sir Eustace, he proceeded to select a trustworthy follower by whom to send his three missives. The arrangements connected with the mission took some time, so that it was not until midnight that he was at leisure to resume his interview with his prisoner. For some time Sir Eustace remained perfectly still, musing on the strange occurrences of the last ten days. Yes! it was but ten days ago that he had become personally acquainted with Alethè; and yet what years of action, thought, and feeling, and being, had passed since he rode into the court-yard of Alured's palace on the eventful morning of that day when he had first seen her who was now the very heart of his life. And now, after a series of the most extraordinary circumstances, he was about to die a cruel death, simply for refusing to become the tool of a villain. As he thought over these things, he began to pace to and fro in the small chamber, and as he did so, he hummed the tune of an old pagan song which occurred to him he knew not why. Again he sat down and looked out upon the wide expanse, which became, whilst he gazed upon it, darker and darker, as the mountain barrier shut out the rays of the declining sun. And now the sun set, and after a time all became gloom except the spots illumined by the fires around which the savages were feasting, or the flames of the villages which had not been extinguished. Dark thoughts, which called in question the ways of Providence-the mercy and the justice of God-came crowding on his mind. The air became colder, but it soothed his hot brow!-coldercolder-colder still, like an ice-blast;-but it was rapture to his burning brain! It was dark; but he loved the gloom! "Have I lived a valiant and true knight," said he, "to die like a dog? Shall I, who have always endeavoured to unite in my practice the lessons of glory taught me by our bards, with those of love and purity which I learnt from my uncle, meet such an ignominious as well as untimely |