l hazards to
save the king.

The boy, affected by the solemnity of her manner, promised faithfully to
observe her minutest sign, and on the re-entrance of Sir Alan departed,
to marvel wherefore his lady should so have spoken, and examine the
localities around, as to the best means of concealment and escape.

The hours waned, and night fell, as is usual in October, some five hours
after noon, the gloom perhaps greatly increased by the deep shades in
which their place of concealment lay. Sir Alan roused the fire to a
cheerful blaze, and lighting a torch of pine-wood, placed it in an iron
bracket projecting from the wall, and amused himself by polishing his
arms, and talking in that joyous tone his mother so loved, on every
subject that his affection fancied might interest and amuse her. He was
wholly unarmed, except his sword, which, secured to his waist by a
crimson sash, he never laid aside; and fair and graceful to his mother's
eye did he look in his simple doublet of Lincoln-green, cut and slashed
with ruby velvet, his dark curls clustering round his bare throat, and
his bright face beaming in all the animation of youth and health,
spiritualized by the deeper feelings of his soul; and she, too, was
still beautiful, though her frame was slighter, her features more
attenuated than when we first beheld her. He had insisted on her
reclining on the couch, and drawn from her otherwise painful thoughts by
his animated sallies, smiles circled her pale lip, and her sorrows were
a while forgotten.

An hour, perhaps rather more, elapsed, and found the mother and son
still as we have described, There had been no sound without, but about
that period many heavy footsteps might have been distinguished,
cautiously, it seemed, advancing. Alan started up and listened; the
impatient neigh of a charger was heard, and then voices suppressed, yet,
as he fancied, familiar.

"King Robert returned already!" he exclaimed; "they must have had an
unusually successful chase. I must e'en seek them and inquire."

"Alan! my child!" He started at the voice, it was so unlike his
mother's. She had risen and flung her arm around him with a pressure so
convulsive, he looked at her with terror. There was no time to answer; a
sudden noise usurped the place of the previous stillness--a struggle--a
heavy fall; the door was flung rudely open, and an armed man stood upon
the threshold, his vizor up, but even had it not been, the heart of the
countess too