It was at this moment that his ear was struck by a singular sound,-it was the voice of an idiot, a fool of the Lord of Courtenaye, less than half-witted, but shrewd, gibing, and affectionate withal, whom neither persuasions nor blows could drive back from accompanying the Crusaders that 'disastrous day. When all was over, he sat him down on the summit of an eminence, and began singing a kind of triumphant song with the most lugubrious aspect imaginable: the words

were

De Montfort shall come from the hills above

And carry all before him

This song of an idiot, heard amid the awful stillness of departed battle, heard where the valiant, the mighty, the eloquent, and the beautiful were dumb, had a strange meaning and power; but Paladour was no longer able to feel; a deep stupor began to creep over him. The last sensation he had was that of trying to fall so as to hide the body of Amirald, and even in death protect it from spoliation and indignity. The pre

caution failed; the soiled and broken armour of Paladour offered no temptation to the plunderers, who now began to traverse the field, while Amirald's, who had fallen early in the strife, was still fresh and resplendent. The senseless bodies of the youths were soon torn asunder. The idiot died that night, and his dying song vibrated on the ear of Sir Aymer, who was awaking from his deep and death-like trance. "Ha, ha," said the old knight, rousing with his constitutional laugh, "there be greater fools here than thou.-I marvel that my squire comes not to arm me. God's mother! have I slept all this while, and never drew brand while there was battle so near me? Methought I rode with Crusaders in my dream.-How cold the morning sun is!" he muttered shivering, as the moon rose in pale and midnight glory over that bloody field, and the echoes of the hills resounded with the hymns of the triumphant Albigeois. These "watchers of the night" seemed to take up their song of rejoicing along with the host of Heaven, with those

who have "neither speech nor language, but whose voices are heard among them;" like them they lifted up their voices all that night from hill to hill; and while the rich sounds rolled into the dim and stilled valleys, a pure heart and ear might almost have deemed them the faint and far-descending echo of the inaudible harmonies of heaven.

CHAPTER VIII.

Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still,
With Lady Clare upon the hill,

On which (for far the day was spent)

The western sun-beams now were bent.

Marmion.

THE lady Isabelle with her attendants had been placed by the Crusaders on an eminence when they set out on that disastrous enterprise, and she had waved her hand and scarf to them as long as Sir Paladour remained in sight. Though compelled to accompany them, she shrank from the sight of slaughter, and ordered her attendants to spread her awning or tent on the side of the hill opposite that by which the knights had descended.

Here reclined on cushions, which her damsels spread on the grass, she lay listening to tales of the Crusaders, among whose praises the maidens who knew how to soothe their

lady's ear, forgot not to reckon highest those of Sir Paladour. Her only attendants were Marguerite, Blanche, and Germonda, two pages, the driver of her horse-litter, and the Monk of Montcalm, whom the Abbot of Normoutier, when inflamed with wine, had vainly pressed to join in the assault. The dame and damsels were stretched at the feet of the lady; the pages and driver were ever and anon climbing to the summit of the hill, to look forth on the field; the Monk of Montcalm stood apart and told his beads till even-song, and then knelt and prayed fervently at a distance. Thus, beneath the silken awning there was a rich foreground of luxurious and reposing beauty; the picturesque habits and eager gestures of the young pages gave character and life to the group; and the thin ascetic form, the pale uplifted eye, and dark garments of the monk, as he knelt beneath the branches of a mighty pine, lent a dark and solemn contrast to the picture.

Evening came on, and the lady at length consented to the petition of her damsels, and