CHAPTER II.

"O mortal man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate,
That like an emmet thou must ever moil,
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date;
And, certes, there is reason for it great;

For though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curse thy star, and early drudge and late,
Withouten that would come an heavier bale,

Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale."
Castle of Indolence.

"What the devil art thou?"

King John.

THE hero of this adventure, utterly careless of the gaze of the crowd, regained his battered hat, beat it against the trunk of a tree to remove the dust, then thrust it into some sort of shape with his hand, and slowly left the spot. Yet it seemed to possess for him a kind of fascination; for when he had reached the border of the river, he retraced his steps, and passed again before the lodgegates. The guests were all gone, the last

straggler had departed, and the scene was solitary and silent. The first shades of evening wrapt distant objects in their blue haze, but the sky was yet gloriously illumined by the rich masses of colour which the sun at his setting had thrown on the heavy piled clouds now collected on the horizon. Believing he was alone, the usher stood against the trunk of a noble elm, and, while he vacantly looked on the gorgeous spectacle, endeavoured to reduce his excited thoughts to order. His efforts did not seem attended with much success; for in a few minutes he resumed his impatient walk, and in his agitation gave utterance to his thoughts aloud.

"This is mere folly," he said; "her world is not mine. I do not even know her name; and what if I did? My tasks and my drudgery must be resumed to-morrow. I have only the choice between that and a baser servitude still."

As he spoke he removed his hat from his brow, that the cool air might sweep over his face, for between fatigue and excitement his blood was fevered. Then he continued the broken utterance of his thought.

"Is there no hope, no chance, of a better

destiny? Why, then, was I cursed with desires and feelings which can never be gratified? Why was I not made fit to receive the lashes of that rascal's whip? What does it matter that the world is before me, when I am chained to tasks I hate? I must drudge or starve. Oh, how willingly would I exchange all my dreary prospect of existence for one single year of joyous life!"

A keen observer of mankind listened to this raving. He had kept the scholar in sight from the moment of his danger, and had rendered him some slight service, though it was unperceived and unacknowledged. He advanced, and faced the excited youth. With a smile, half sarcastic, half good-humoured, he said

"That wish should have been uttered in the days of necromancy. Come, be thankful that no evil spirits are at hand to take advantage of your rashness; your mood would be favourable to their power."

The scholar, offended by the tone of badinage in which this was uttered, said coldly

"I did not address you, sir."

"You are rash to say so," returned the stranger. "For aught you know, I may be

one of the ministers of fortune specially commissioned to bring worshippers to her shrine. Why may I not have power to grant your wish?"

The strangeness of the speaker's words induced the scholar to regard him closely. He stood with his face in full relief against the glowing sky, so that it could be easily scrutinized.

He was in the prime of life-that prime, in which maturity of form is combined with maturity of intellect and of passion—that prime, before one joint of the frame is stif fened, or the soul has lost its full capability of emotion. His face was dark in complexion, and on it were traced some linesperhaps marked by intense thought-perhaps by corroding care-perhaps by physical excesses; but they seemed to have survived the cause that gave them birth, for the general expression of his features was that of proud superiority. The eyes were black, deep-set, and piercing. But for them his aspect would have been less remarkable than it was. They had a fascinating power, and, when for a moment they kindled with sudden animation, they grew restless in their energy, flashed with star-like fire, and gave

to features, before settled in calm, a look of peculiar and startling wildness. His bearing had an air of command, which, though devoid of the slightest pretension, was felt to be impressive. It was the style of one accustomed to obedience, and seemed less an assertion of superiority than an acknowledgment of deference. Yet outwardly there was little to inspire the respect his manner commanded. His dress was plain, and it was only by his indescribable air of high breeding that any judgment could be formed of his station. He was about the middle height and the middle form, and was altogether one of those men who might move through a crowd without attracting the slightest notice, yet who, when once observed, are instantly recognised as belonging to an elevated rank. The scholar felt his influence, and replied to him, almost against his will, in a subdued tone, following up the fantastic thought the stranger had started

"If such be your office, sir, you can hardly find one more in need of Fortune's favours than myself, or more eager to gratefully accept them."

"And you have no fear of the conse

VOL. I.