discourse, between the lady and her daughter? for, though you heard little, by my good faith, thou hast heard enough, methinks," cried Sir Walter De Ruthen after a thoughtful pause, " and more than thou shouldst have heard, had I been there."

A deep and crimson blush suffused the face of Sir Orville Faulkner; and, for a moment, his bright eye glanced indignantly towards the haughty page of St. Julian, while he replied somewhat warmly to his sarcastic speech,

"Sir, what I chanced to hear, I have told you truly, and you have little right to blame me for the confidence I have reposed in your seeming honour. Had I not thought you worthy of such high trust, I had not been so lavish of discourse. Nor did I listen clandestinely to aught that I have heard about St. Julian!-but there is a closet adjoining to the apartments of my liege mistress, in which I am stationed, by her imperative order, and through which none can pass to the Lady Margaret without my immediate order for permission. The sultry heat of summer's noon had occasioned every avenue to that apartment in which the ladies were, at a late hour, so deep in converse, to be thrown open, that they might inhale the balmy fragrance of the western breezes, fresh upon them. I was not, therefore, bidden to retire, or I had done so long ere they talked of such high matters as concerned St. Julian. But I had ears, and they could not fail to listen to such a voice as Augustina's, I had eyes, and oh! who would not have gazed as I did, on such a face, on such a form, as that heaven has stamped on the fair Bohemian maid!"

"And, by my sword and buckler, thou must not

gaze so wildly," cried Sir Walter; " for wild are the dreams of beauty and of love. Beshrew me thou might as well explore the Cretan labyrinth, as search after its fleeting shadows.-Yet, what thou hast heard, treasure up in silence! shouldst thou reveal what thou hast heard, it would cost thee dearly. Speak not of the Bohemian maid in the presence of St. Julian as thou valuest life and breath!-It is the only thing he cannot bear to dwell on !"

"Then he loved Augustina, after all that the Lady Margaret has advanced to the contrary!" uttered Sir Orville, with a deep and struggled sigh: "I—I—I humbly crave your pardon for boldly asking such a question."

"Which I am not bound to answer, and therefore freely pardon thee," bluntly replied Sir Walter.

Sir Orville coloured deeply, not doubting but St. Julian's page was high in the secrets of the gallant hero; and, forgetting that he had several times before cautioned him to silence on the subject of St. Julian and the Bohemian Lady; whom he adored, although in secret sorrow and despair; (for never could the page of Margaret vainly and presumptuously aspire to the hand or the heart of the daughter of Albino !) yet still he loved, and struggled to conceal his ardent passion for the beautious fair one.

"The night doth wear apace, and the grey-ey'd morning will soon beskirt yon western sky:" cried Sir Walter, wishing to dispel the gloom which now hung on the fair brows of the pensive page.

"You err, most gallant, sir," softly responded he, and opening the casement which emitted the fragrance of the balmy flowers that luxuriantly grew beneath it.

"It is not yet near morning, although yon shining firmament beams so lightly, as it would seem young day was pouring fast upon us ;-yet it is but the silver moon that steals so softly on the lake beneath us: be but patient, and I, will perform my promise. The Lady Margaret in an hour hence will require my attendance: she has supped to-night alone, and seems much disquieted; but her vassals repose in silence, (all but her guards, who watch the postern gates, and they are abroad, and active in their duty.) The very whispering of the gentle breeze that blows, or the murmuring of the waters that lave yon steepy rocks, would alarm them. I will leave you good Sir Walter, for awhile, and return anon."

"And I would betake me to rest in these goodly chambers," cried Sir Walter, "but that a soldier never sleeps when on his duty. I have thoughts, none of the pleasantest kind, too, for I dont vastly like the mystery of Margaret's proceedings, I promise thee:-she bade me depart in peace, and then arrests my liberty!".

"For that, you have to thank the pious holy priest who attends her secret councils," uttered Sir Orville, with a contemptuous smile," he is in high authority, and no one dare dispute it, on peril of the immediate displeasure of our lady."

"Indeed!" cried Sir Walter, as if apparently surprised by the intelligence which he knew so well before. "Yes indeed!" was Sir Orville's prompt reply.

"It were well to advance the holy, pious gentleman a post or two higher," uttered Sir Walter, and smiled.

"The road to preferment is desirable," answered Sir Orville, and smiled too.

"Especially that to which he will shortly be conducted!" cried Sir Walter, and smiled again.

But whether the smile was returned again by the page of Lady Margaret, is uncertain, for the castle bell at this precise moment, responded the hour of twelve, and Sir Orville Faulkner retired.

:

But, in less than an hour he returned again to Sir Walter, intimating that Lady Margaret was apprized of his wish, to see and converse with her alone; and that he would then have the honour of conducting him to the armory, where she awaited his coming. "I will attend the lady, then," cried Sir Walter, with a sarcastic smile and Sir Orville immediately led him through a suite of gothic apartments, and many antiquated winding passages, before he arrived at the destined place of appointment. There was a solemn stillness prevailed in the castle of St. Clair, as they reached the entrance of the armory; and there the page of Lady Margaret stopped.—

"I must proceed no farther," uttered he, "till the lady has notice of our approach. She will not be interrupted in her meditations, at this lonely hour of midnight's fearful gloom,"

"Not if the pious priest is with her," uttered Sir Walter, with a look which was almost undefinable to the youthful page. "The purposes of our sacred religion admit, no intruder, when the pure heart is of fered up in secret devotion to the Most High. There we confess our inmost thoughts, and inmost wishes, and they must be breathed alone, to Him who alone. has the power of directing all earthly aims-all earthly wishes! where human agency can avail us nothing. The wish, and the thought, and the prayer, must be

preferred to him alone, and, whatever their import, they cannot be hidden or concealed.

The God that searches all hearts will discover them, bough ten thousand pious priests aid their council, in ehalf of our supplications! And truly I have a noon, that their piousexhortations will carry us but a small way on our passage to heaven, if we have no other than their prayers to conduct us thither. Should I turn priest, boy, which I do confess, that I am not marvellously fond of, thou wouldst profit by the doctrine of a rough soldier-wouldst not thou-as well as from the lectures of the pious friend of the lady Margaret.

Sir Walter laughed as he pronounced this, and in spite of the gravity and the decorum usually preserved by the youthful page on such occasions, he could not for the life of him, help laughing too. There was a propensity to this sensation which he could not conquer, although the necessity of preserving decorum was so highly apparent; and he archly responded to the question of Sir Walter, of

"More ceremony yet?"

With, "In this castle of St. Clair, I have learned more ceremony than would be necessary at court, for, in approaching the Lady Margaret, she expects the homage that would be offered to a queen, ere you can converse with her."

"By the honour of a soldier, thou shalt see what homage she will have from me;" cried Sir Walter, "no more than she will expect,-much more than she merits."

At this moment, voices were plainly distinguishable within the armory, and that of the Lady Margaret's seemed somewhat inflated by anger; for she haughtily pronounced,―