this disappearance of Adam's companion, Richard, giving some
preparatory orders to Catesby, turned at once to the room which still
held the philosopher and his device. He closed the door on entering, and
his brow was dark and sinister as he approached the musing inmate. But
here we must return to Sibyll.

CHAPTER VIII. THE OLD WOMAN TALKS OF SORROWS, THE YOUNG WOMAN DREAMS
OF LOVE; THE COURTIER FLIES FROM PRESENT POWER TO REMEMBRANCES OF PAST
HOPES, AND THE WORLD-BETTERED OPENS UTOPIA, WITH A VIEW OF THE GIBBET
FOR THE SILLY SAGE HE HAS SEDUCED INTO HIS SCHEMES,--SO, EVER AND
EVERMORE, RUNS THE WORLD AWAY!

The old lady looked up from her embroidery-frame, as Sibyll sat musing
on a stool before her; she scanned the maiden with a wistful and
somewhat melancholy eye.

"Fair girl," she said, breaking a silence that had lasted for some
moments, "it seems to me that I have seen thy face before. Wert thou
never in Queen Margaret's court?"

"In childhood, yes, lady."

"Do you not remember me, the dame of Longueville?" Sibyll started in
surprise, and gazed long before she recognized the features of her
hostess; for the dame of Longueville had been still, when Sibyll was
a child at the court, renowned for matronly beauty, and the change
was greater than the lapse of years could account for. The lady smiled
sadly: "Yes, you marvel to see me thus bent and faded. Maiden, I lost my
husband at the battle of St. Alban's, and my three sons in the field of
Towton. My lands and my wealth have been confiscated to enrich new men;
and to one of them--one of the enemies of the only king whom Alice de
Longueville will acknowledge--I owe the food for my board and the roof
for my head. Do you marvel now that I am so changed?"

Sibyll rose and kissed the lady's hand, and the tear that sparkled on
its surface was her only answer.

"I learn," said the dame of Longueville, "that your father has an order
from the Lord Hastings to see King Henry. I trust that he will rest here
as he returns, to tell me how the monarch-saint bears his afflictions.
But I know: his example should console us all." She paused a moment, and
resumed, "Sees your father much of the Lord Hastings?"

"He never saw him that I weet of," answered Sibyll, blushing; "the order
was given, but as of usual form to a learned scholar."

"But given to whom?" persisted the lady. "To--to me," replied Sibyll,
falteringly. The dame of Longueville smiled.

"Ah, Hastings coul