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tress slowly, as though trying to impress upon her memory a name with which she was not familiar," and who is the old man?" she inquired, pointing to the seneschal.

"Adam Henred," replied Sir Ranulph.

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Ay! but what is his business? who does he want?" persisted the matter-offact portress "People don't People don't come in and out here like unto an inn where they pay their money; though," she added, assuming a sort of nasal twang she had not hitherto adopted,-" the wayfarer and the benighted are received with Christian charity by all the sisters of the blessed Saint Bernard." Here she took a large bite from the contents of both hands.

"We want not your charity, good sister," said Ranulph somewhat impatiently, "neither I nor my companion; for Adam Henred is the worthy seneschal of Clifford Castle, and while one of the race remains he will never want a home."

"Clifford Castle!" echoed the woman, as plainly as the black bread allowed," do ye come from Clifford Castle?"

"We do, good sister,-we have tidings

from its lord; and we pray thee get us speech of the lady abbess, that we may deliver the letters with which Walter Lord Clifford has charged us."

"Alack! alack! ye come from the Lord de Clifford, the Lady Rosamond's father," continued the portress, bustling about for her keys; "and why could ye not say so before? The poor child will be right glad. Walk in, walk in, and I will bring you to the lady abbess, with speed;-no, not that way; here," she added, as Ranulph, on passing the gate, was about to cross the court. She pointed to a low arched door, which led through a narrow passage, dimly lighted by small loopholes near the top, to the parlour of the convent and in a few moments he and Adam Henred found themselves alone, for the portress had gone to seek the abbess.

Not less startled was the Lady Isolda than Rosamond would have been when the news of a messenger from Clifford Castle was brought to her. In an instant she saw the downfal of her hopes; for in secret she had always cherished the expectation that, sooner or later, the ob

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Jifri vas de mus Ber of patrons, And he to whom ste ved much, such was the rising price of the Church, that she would gladly have heard of his death, in the bice of being able, during the first outburst of grief to induce Rosamond to enter the convent. This hope seemed now bighted for ever, and it was in no very complaisant mood that the abbess took her way to the parlour, which she entered at the opposite side from that where Ranulph stood,-as, except upon very particular occasions, she always received her visitors behind the screen of curiously-wrought iron, which, like a low

grated window, ran nearly all along the wall that divided the apartment.

Sir Ranulph bent his knee to the ground as the Lady Isolda entered, and, taking off his helmet, showed a countenance so attractive that even the starch old abbess could not refrain from a secret sentiment of admiration. The face of Ranulph (a fine oval, classical in the regularity of its outline) bore an expression rather of melancholy than mirth, and the large dark eyes were full of tenderness as well as fire. Feeling and thought were already on that young brow. His figure was very tall and slight, but with great breadth of chest, and his carriage erect and firm, like one early trained to arms. The camp and the court had, in truth, been the only schools of Ranulph de Broc. Having risen from his knee, he waited patiently, as was the custom, for the lady to speak first.

"Sir knight," said the abbess, assuming her most stately air, "what wouldst thou here?—and in what can I, poor handmaid of the Lord, do aught of service to Sir Ranulph de Broc ?”

"Madam," replied Ranulph, "it is not for myself that I claim help or service, or that I have ventured at this unseemly hour to break in upon your holy duties. I am but the bearer of this letter from the Lord de Clifford, who bade me, with his humble greeting, to lay it at your feet."

"I thank thee, sir knight," replied the abbess, taking the letter through the grating; "the Lord de Clifford is, then, safe returned?"

"With life and limb, he is, madam; but my Lord de Clifford now lies within his castle, grievously afflicted with sickness; and therefore he hath sent me, his former page, to pray you would accept some few relics from Palestine, and remember him in your prayers."

"And the Lady Rosamond?" asked the abbess, somewhat hastily; for at the mention of the illness of her father, her hopes began to revive.

"It was the order of my lord that I should first crave the succour of the Church's prayers; else I should have

said the Lady Rosamond is bidden home.

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