ent on her with an
ardour, that, compared with the dark caverns under which they moved,
gave them the effect of lighted charcoal, she drew with dignity the veil
around her face, as an intimation that the determined freedom of his
glance was disagreeable. Cedric saw the motion and its cause. "Sir
Templar," said he, "the cheeks of our Saxon maidens have seen too little
of the sun to enable them to bear the fixed glance of a crusader."

"If I have offended," replied Sir Brian, "I crave your pardon,--that
is, I crave the Lady Rowena's pardon,--for my humility will carry me no
lower."

"The Lady Rowena," said the Prior, "has punished us all, in chastising
the boldness of my friend. Let me hope she will be less cruel to the
splendid train which are to meet at the tournament."

"Our going thither," said Cedric, "is uncertain. I love not these
vanities, which were unknown to my fathers when England was free."

"Let us hope, nevertheless," said the Prior, "our company may determine
you to travel thitherward; when the roads are so unsafe, the escort of
Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert is not to be despised."

"Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, "wheresoever I have travelled in this
land, I have hitherto found myself, with the assistance of my good sword
and faithful followers, in no respect needful of other aid. At present,
if we indeed journey to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, we do so with my noble
neighbour and countryman Athelstane of Coningsburgh, and with such a
train as would set outlaws and feudal enemies at defiance.--I drink
to you, Sir Prior, in this cup of wine, which I trust your taste will
approve, and I thank you for your courtesy. Should you be so rigid
in adhering to monastic rule," he added, "as to prefer your acid
preparation of milk, I hope you will not strain courtesy to do me
reason."

"Nay," said the Priest, laughing, "it is only in our abbey that we
confine ourselves to the 'lac dulce' or the 'lac acidum' either.
Conversing with, the world, we use the world's fashions, and therefore
I answer your pledge in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to
my lay-brother."

"And I," said the Templar, filling his goblet, "drink wassail to the
fair Rowena; for since her namesake introduced the word into England,
has never been one more worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could
pardon the unhappy Vortigern, had he half the cause that we now witness,
for making shipwreck of his honour and his kingdom."

"I will spare