tace led forth the steed arrayed
for the ride, and Marmion, armed to meet the elfin foe, sprang into the
saddle. The young squire listened to the resounding hoof-beats as they
grew more and more faint, and wondered as he fell asleep that one held
to be so wary, so wise, so incredulous, should ride forth at midnight to
meet a ghost in mail and plate.

The moon was bright, and as Marmion reached the elfin camp, halting, he
fearlessly blew his bugle. An answer came, so faint and hollow, that it
might have been an echo; but suddenly he saw a distinct form appear, a
mounted champion. The sight of the unexpected foe made to tremble with
horror him who never had feared knight or noble. His hand so shook, he
could scarce couch spear aright. The combat began; the two horsemen ran
their course; and in the third attack Marmion's steed could not resist
the unearthly shock--he fell, and the flower of England's chivalry
rolled in the dust.

High over the head of the fallen foe, the supposed spectre shook his
sword. Full on his face fell the moonlight, a face never to be mistaken.
It was the wraith of Ralph de Wilton, who had been sent by Marmion to
exile and to death. Thrice over his victim did the grim, ghast spectre
shake his blade, but when Marmion, white with terror, prayed for life,
the seeming vision dashed his sword into its sheath, sprang lightly to
his saddle, and vanished as he came. The moon sank from sight, and the
poor, shivering, wretched English knight lay groveling on the plain.
Could it be his mortal enemy had left the grave to strike down a living
foe, and to stare in derisive hatred from a raised visor? Whether dead
or alive, the elfin foe had little reason to spare the life of so
dastardly an enemy!

Sweetly sleeping, or patiently listening, Eustace waited for the return
of his knight, waited till he heard a horse coming, spurred to its
utmost speed. The rider hastily threw the rein to his squire, but spoke
not a word. In the dim light the youth plainly saw that the armor and
the falcon crest on his lord's helmet were covered with clay, that the
knees and sides of the noble charger were in sad plight. It was evident
the beast and his rider had been overthrown. To broken and brief rest
Eustace returned and never did he more gladly welcome the light of day.

"Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark
The first notes of the morning lark."

CHAPTER IV.

"The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew,