When Rowena perceived the Knight Templar's eyes bent on her with an

ardour, that, compared with the dark caverns under which they moved,

gave them the effect of lighted charcoal, she drew with dignity the veil

around her face, as an intimation that the determined freedom of his

glance was disagreeable. Cedric saw the motion and its cause. "Sir

Templar," said he, "the cheeks of our Saxon maidens have seen too little

of the sun to enable them to bear the fixed glance of a crusader."

"If I have offended," replied Sir Brian, "I crave your pardon,--that

is, I crave the Lady Rowena's pardon,--for my humility will carry me no

lower."

"The Lady Rowena," said the Prior, "has punished us all, in chastising

the boldness of my friend. Let me hope she will be less cruel to the

splendid train which are to meet at the tournament."

"Our going thither," said Cedric, "is uncertain. I love not these

vanities, which were unknown to my fathers when England was free."

"Let us hope, nevertheless," said the Prior, "our company may determine

you to travel thitherward; when the roads are so unsafe, the escort of

Sir Brian de Bois-Guilbert is not to be despised."

"Sir Prior," answered the Saxon, "wheresoever I have travelled in this

land, I have hitherto found myself, with the assistance of my good sword

and faithful followers, in no respect needful of other aid. At present,

if we indeed journey to Ashby-de-la-Zouche, we do so with my noble

neighbour and countryman Athelstane of Coningsburgh, and with such a

train as would set outlaws and feudal enemies at defiance.--I drink

to you, Sir Prior, in this cup of wine, which I trust your taste will

approve, and I thank you for your courtesy. Should you be so rigid

in adhering to monastic rule," he added, "as to prefer your acid

preparation of milk, I hope you will not strain courtesy to do me

reason."

"Nay," said the Priest, laughing, "it is only in our abbey that we

confine ourselves to the 'lac dulce' or the 'lac acidum' either.

Conversing with, the world, we use the world's fashions, and therefore

I answer your pledge in this honest wine, and leave the weaker liquor to

my lay-brother."

"And I," said the Templar, filling his goblet, "drink wassail to the

fair Rowena; for since her namesake introduced the word into England,

has never been one more worthy of such a tribute. By my faith, I could

pardon the unhappy Vortigern, had he half the cause that we now witness,

for making shipwreck of his honour and his kingdom."




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