MISTRESS LILIAS.

Otago Witness, Issue 2026, 22 December 1892, Page 21

MISTRESS LILIAS.

Specially Written for the Witness Christmas

Number of 1592.

By JESSIE MACK AY.

Charnwood of Charnwood shall wax and wane ; Charnwood's might shall rise again When a churl in Charnwood comes to reign.

STRESS LILIAS OHARN-

WOOD sat in a deep onel window overlooking the courtyard of Oharnwood Chase in the late afternoon of an August day. Her unfinished embroidery had iallen in her lap; her shapely fingers were twisted hard and nervously together ; her brown eyes sought the courtyard, where an unusual commotion seemed to betoken the arrival of some important personage. A heavy step sounded through the room. She turned and faced the new- comer, who was her brother, Lord Oharnwood. For a few moments neither spoke. They were a marked contrast. Lord Oharnwood, still in early manhood, was tall, slender, and unusually fair. His thin lips were compressed to a cruel tightness, his steel-cold eyes were Sharp and sinister,; yet there was a strange slight resemblance in hi 3 colqurless face to the warmer, darker, and fuller countenance of his sister. A bright, honest, and winsome face was hers. IE the short and curling upper lip spoke of quick temper— and a wilful woman was Mistress Lilias— the truthful hazel eye told its tale no less Lord Oharnwood harshly broke the silence. "Is this wilful rudeness or Bluttish neglect, girl 1 Lord Ethering nf gh at our gate, and his betrothed playing the village maid in a faded kirfcle 1 Get thee to thy tirewoman. If thou hast not the spirit of a daughter of Cbarnwood, at least have the outer semblance of one." Mistress Lilias looked up, half frightened, half defiant.11 Under your favour, brother, I thought my fault lay on the other side, and I had over-much pride for a damsel of Oharnwood. As for my Lord Bthering, if my poor kirtle displease him, it were both wise and commendable in him to travel farther and choose where he lists." " Hast lost the few wits heaven gave thy sex, thus to jest over tby destiny 7 What higher honour could be in Btore than to wed a king's favourite 1 " "I could name one or two higher, brother," said Lilias with all her native sprightliness. " Me.thinks it wtia a greater honour to wed one who was no I. companion-at-arms to mine own grandehe— to wed a knight who made a name at caiviug French helms, not coarfc pastieE— a champion who stretches his foe in, the field, not his friend under the board at a wine-bout. Our King Henry— the saints bless him I— is a right royal sovereign, but I wot not that to be his favourite is any special recommendation to be a maid's husband." "Midsummer madnesp, wench 1 Sister Agnes and Father John have turned thine empty head with over-much license. 11l for thee those hadst no parents' care in youth." " I regret it much when I note how tenderly my friend Mistress Isabel Oallen hath been reared. Last even we met her shoulder was scored black with blowß from my Lady Cullen's long-handled fan." "Take heed a knight's riding-rod be not a surer means of correction," Baid Lord Oharnwood with brutal significance. Mistress Liliaß flushed hotly. " Take care, my lord, you do not overshoot your mark. I am a Oharnwood of Oharnwood, not a vassal to flog to death." " Who talks of, floggiDg, silly minion ? " said the brother, softening his tone diplomatically. "Go, call Dame Dolly; put on the trinkets I gave thee for the court revels ; look thy fairest for once." Mistress Lilias smiled sadly as she said :

" Brother, if you had but given me one trinket more — your pity, your affection —but there, what careth a grown man for these baubles ia his iron age ? I go, my lord ; but think you really Lord Ethering will mark if I wear sackcloth or silk 1 I trow not, so long as my fair manor of Haddingford bide green and fertile. 0 rare doom 1 to be flung in the bargain like a hound or a horse I" As the heiress of Obarnwood swept through the corridor she met a man in the robe and cowl of a monk— an old man with a gentle face and a far-off, spiritual gaza. " Benedicite, daughter," he said kindly. " 0 father, it is not well with me ; forget me not in thine orisons." " Earth fleeteth fast, both the joy and the sorrow of it : Heaven abide thee," said the old man. "Truly, father," she said sorrowfully; " but I am young, and Heaven seems very far. Do not chide your poor Lilias if she would fain hope for a little joy on earth too. Father, do you hear that stir below ? That is my betrothed, Lord Ethering, coming to see his bride. 0 father, I doubt that you and Sister Agnes did me a cruel kindness to teach me love for the highest, when I must match with the lowest. Father," she pleaded, dropping her voics to a whisper, "is there no help on earth ? Think, pray for my deliverance." When Lilias went to receive her guests in the hall Lord Oharnwood had no need to complain of her or her tirewoman's negligence; she was richly dressed, jewels and gold flashed upon her neck and hair, and her long train trailed over the rush-covered floor. With haughty ceremony she endured the greeting salutations of the earl ; she raised her eyes and met those of a young and nobly formed man standing slightly behind him. A soft flush mounted to her fair temples, a pleased surprise flashed in her eyes. Lord Ethering, motioning to the stranger, said : "I have presumed so far, fair Mistress Lilias, as to commend to your hospitality for the night this gallant gentleman, Sir Hugh Tremayne, who haih rendered rce service by the way. My varlets mistook the road, and bad nnt sir Hush riven us convoy, I bad P«-

force remained another day in exile and darkness, not beholding that fair face which is the light of my dreams." The latter part of this high-flown speech w-is judiciously lowered bo as to gain the unwilling ear of Lilias only. " Consider my poor mansion your own, my lord," said Charnwood, glatfcing with cold disfavour at Tremayne. "Whoever hath merited the thanks of the Earl of Ethering hath a claim to our country cheer."

" Under favour, I would rather say that hi 3 own knightly deeds and noble qualities would alone suffice to insure Sir Hugh Tremayne abundant welcome at Charnwood Ohase," interjected Lilias with proudly raised head.

As may be inferred, it was not the first time she had met the youpg knight. They hid seen each other at more than one j Dust and hawking party, and more than once Sir Hugh had been fortunate enough to render the heiress of Charnwood little oflicee, which had been graciously accepted. Now, as he glallyand gratefully discerned, Bhe would not suffer him to enter her ball as a Btranger, though the averted eye of her brother gave no sign of recognition. For her guests' refreshment, the lady of Oharnwood ordered a flagon of their cellar's best wine, at which the aged eye of Lord Ethering perceptibly brightened. She was aware of her own voice making mechanical inquiries about the journey, and of her brother and Lord Ethering conversing loudly ahout the morrow's hunting; while Sir Hugh stood unnoticed near the door; ehe heard herself making some faint excuse ere she fled to the open air. A strange numbing feeling of enchantment had stolen over her : she folt, rather than saw, that Sir Hugh had silently joined her. Her eyes were fixed on the flowers at her feet ; the silence was unbroken for a short space. Then the knight, whose gaze had never left her face, said abruptly — "Yon old man tells me you are to be Cotmtess of Ethering. Is that truth ? " He hung on her answer, hoping against hope, as it would seem. 41 They have told it to me," said Lilias in a low and dreamy voice. A deep sigh burst from him, and another long silence followed, only now they moved mechanically from the flowers to the orchard, pausing in the shade oE the rosy-loaded apple branches. The precious minutes were hopelessly drifting away. Again the knight was the first to speak, this time with a quiet bitter intonation.

" I am slow and blunt of speech, Mistress Lilias ; and the honeyed phrases I ought to frame 3tick sorely in my throat. Yet, methinks, it were a rare lot to be Countess of Ethering." The quiet lash of his words struck her awake from her mental lethargy ; she looked up for the first time, keenly, upbraidißgly. Mistress Lilias was herself again, yet her voice was not angry, only wistfully reproachful.

"Keep your honeyed phrases, Sir Hugh. You have seen him ; you know me ; bethink you if your fine words would be fitting. A rare {lot, forsooth, to be Countess of Ethering 1 Yet, if you knew poor Lilias Oharnwood better, you would deem with me it were better to be lying in the Oharnwood { vault with the white roses of a maiden's burial on my breast 1 " No pause now ; her hands are in the strong clasp of Hugh ; his glad voice is in her ear. " Lilias, brave Lilias, sweet Lilias I 'And they would wed thee to that hoary reveller — but that must never be ; all the saints would forbid the unholy sacrifice. Lilias, dearest, only tell me that a true man's love will outweigh all these gewgaws with tbee, and I swear it that Hugh jTremayne will defend thee agaiflst all the world." 11 Alas, alas, Sir Hugh 1 what can we do against enemies so many and co powerful ? " " Only trust me, fair Lilias. The heavens fight for love and innocence. Only give tby true heart into my keeping. " Perchanoe— it hath already passed out of mine," said Mistress Lilias with a smile and a deep blush. So under the rosy apple trees Lilias Oharnwood's vows were plighted ; and they two were as happy as the first pair in Eden. Lord Oharnwood, Earl Ethering, the King himself were in league against them ; yet for the time fear and doubt were vanished completely. A brilliant flush mantled on the cheeks of Mistress Lilias, and a fine light flashed in her hazel eyes as she took her place at the board to partake of the early supper of the. time. Tha drooping, sorrowful maiden seemed transformed into a veritable queen; so powerful a talisman is hope and happiness. Lord Ethering sat in the place of honour at her side in all the bravery of an antiquated fop ; his satin jerkin was most marvellously puffed and slashed ; his sleeves were a miracle of tightness ; his youthful wig sat ill on a face stamped with years of excess and unvenerable old age. While his lover-like glances shot keen thrills of disgust through Lilias, she could now afford to smile at his tedious gallantry. " So Diana wends to the chase with us tomorrow. Alas, the slaughter! " "Of the inhocants, my lord 1 " asked she. " Nay, 1 fear tbere is no respect of persons with this divinity ; the Latinian goddess waged war with unerring bow and arrow, but Diana of the Midlands carrieth a deadlier and surer armoury in her eyes," said the old lord in a tender aside.

"Indeed," responded Lilias gravely and aloud, " that were a hard case, for the goddess might have reason to wish her darts less potent— to weary of slaying a3 Midis wearied of gold when required to eat; it and drink it. Moreover, wise men of the court now say that the shafts of Capid fly no more save they are tipped with gold. What think you ? "

" I think the Ethering coronet was never laid on brow that became gold so well," replied the lover rather lamely.

" I commend these honey cakes to your lordship; they are counted delicate," said Mistress Lilias coldly. Lord E&heriug was nowise rebuffed.

•■ From your hand, dear lady, they must needs be sweet were th-.y made of feimyl."

"Tiß pity to waste such flashes on our dull rustic wits. Smooth-tongued Sir Gawain was a fine courtier, yet my knight, was ever Sir Galahad. Tell us, Sir Hugh," she added, turning with a dazzling smile to Tremayne; "you who come from the land of LjonessQ— tell us if a Percivale or a Qila-

had yet linger in your rocky shores ; or if the ■ true nobleness of knighthood passed with Arthur to Avilion."

The bright honest face of. the Oornish knight lit up with an answering smile. " Nay, lady, doubt not that the spirit of Arthur lives in Lyonesse, and will live while hearts are young and ladies fair." " I love the land of Lyonesse," said Lilias softly. "My old nurse, Dame Dolly Penlake, hath livened many an hour of my childhood with her tales of knights and ladies and dragons. I made no doubt then that the golden-tressed mermaids still combed their hair by the rocks of Zennor." Here Charnwood, whose lowering brow had been bent first on Lilias, then on Hugh, broke in harshly. ••You do well, Lilias, to entertain our noble guest with old wives' tales." " Troly I was in fault," said she with a smile of dangerous sweetness to Lord Etherlug. " Yet let me redeem my credit in your war- like eyes. I was about to request from your lordship this even a particular account of the great field of Bosworth. I have often heard my grandsire dwell on the prowess shown that day by his gallant comrade, the Earl of Ethering." 11 Nay," said the elderly Adoni3, with a 1 touch of hasty spleen, "my account were little worth ; I was but a stripling then." The evening wore away ; Mistress Lilias sang a tew songs to her cittern ; Lord Ethering made many courtly compliments, and yawned aside. Sir Hugh listened as if his life depended on catching every note. Lord Charnwood moodily watched the party. Next morning the lady of Oharnwood was early astir, but early as it was she found Sir Hugh had gone. Surprised and chagrined she dared not ask any information from her brother, and had to smother her wonder as she could. Passing through a gallery her old tirewoman came hobbling*af ter her and caught her arm. "Mistress Lilias, Mistress Lilias," Bhe whispered, " I have a pretty trinket for thee. Gift of gold, heart of gold, sweet lady 1 " So saying ehe put in Lilias' hand a chain of gold Sir Hugh was wont to wear round his neck ; telling her at the same time how at dawn she had seen the parting of Sir Hugh and Lord Charnwood, seemingly in anger ; and how ere his departure he had contrived to put the gift in her charge with a brief message for her mistress. MistreS3 Lilias went about her affairs with a sinking desolation at heart ; the old lord's gallantries were fearfully irksome ; the cold snake-like eye of Oharnwood terrified her. The hawking brought her no exhilaration that, day the evening no brighter outlook, but next morning she had the relief of seeing Lord Ethering take his departure. Scarcely had his train disappeared before she was summoned to speak with her brother. Oharnwood was savagely gnawing his colourless moustache. He roughly caught her Dy the arm as she entered, saying : " So, faithless minion, you plot treaohery to your affianced husband 1 But the trees of the orchard have ears and eyes, as you shall know to your cost. I will beat this childish folly out of thee." " Hold," cried Lilias, brought to bay and desperate. "Let me free; let us speak Vcalmly of these matters. You purpose against my will to wed me to an aged, worthless, and infamous man, who loves me not. I never gave him my troth; I nevsr esteemed him other than the dost of the earth I tread on. And when a noble gentleman honourably addresses me, you play the spy on him. and the tyrant on me. Out on you, Lord Charnwood 1 is this your duty to your dead father's child ? I call our lady to witness that I demand but my right— such honourable life and freedom as befits a gentlewoman of England." Lord Oharnwood was untouched. The smile on his pale face was harder than a frown. . . .

11 As thou wilt. We will speak of these matters then calmly, briefly, finally. I, Ralph Oharnwood, thy guardian, purpose to give thee in marriage to a noble peer of this realm, whereby thou shalt attain a proud eminence among English ladies, and whereby I shall attain certain other benefits which no power on earth shall make me forego. That noble consents to make thee his countess, for no love of thy foolish face, I grant, but in consideration of thy broad manor and rioh dowry. Thou, with the wantODnessand perversity of a daughter of Eve, must needs intrigue with a wretched Cornish stripling' whose tower in the Midlands here I could batter to the ground in half a day. A disgraceful alliance, truly, for the house of Oharnwood ; but that shall never befall." " A worse disgrace shall Charnwood suffer than that," said Mistress Lilias with spirit. " Have you forgotten the old saying of our house — Charnwood of Charnwood shall wax and wane ; Cham wood's might shall lise again When a churl in Charnwood cornea to reign I

" Have you forgotten it ? " "An old saw ; no matter, The glory of our house is my care. Sd now to the future. I have sent thy gallant paciipg. He was high spoken with me, but I found means to bring him to reason."

"No need to tell the means. You threatened me," said 6he, white to the lips. " Ay, he deems it not well for thy safety to be seen nigh Charnwood Cbase. I spared his person, however; not that I had minded sending a c'rossbolt after him more than shooting a plover ; but I left him as a hostage in some measure for thy conduct. I know thee rash and wilf ol ; but I think thou hast some regard for the youth ; his life lies in thy hands. The first billet or message from thee or to thee is his death warrant. I have spies enow to render his death an easy matter. Thou rememberest the fate of that bold peasant who stole my hound and fell into my hands three years after. He was not a pretty sight for a woman's eye when I flung him to the crows; and I leave thee to judge if the man who stole my sister would fare much •better at my band. And mark— if it were possible to wed this Hugh Tremayne by flight or fraud, my first and kindest brotherly token would be a poniard through the heart. So choose, girl. Dost thou love the beggarly Cornishman well enough to renounce him for ever, or wilt thou some fine morning have his head served up to thee on a salver, like a new He{odias 1 " ' " I will appeal to the king," sobbed the trembling girl. 11 The king I why that were a rare jest,

I think my Lord Ethering and I have the royal ear to some purpose."

Too well the unhappy girl knew the truth of this. With a moan she sank on the cushioned settle, her head bowed on her arms, and waited.

"Oh that we two were dead and in heaven."

The tormentor spared not a gibing syllable of his reply, "If tdat is any consolation, thy gallant may soon enough be there, but not thou— thou shalt be Countess of Ethering first. For know this, if thou will the Cornishman to live, or if thou will him to die, that is all one ; but'tbou shalt be Countess of Ethering, and no power but death shall prevent it." A muffled voice came from the bowed figure. " I yield, for his sake I yield, and may death come quickly and be more merciful to me than my brother has been." Even in the act of speaking a flash seemed to illumine her mind with an idea bo wild, so daring, that the thoughtof it almost dried her tears and set her heart palpitating.

Satisfied- with her seeming helpless surrender, Oharnwood went away; but from thafhour Mistress Lilias knew all the bitter dependence of a woman's lot in those days. She was under the harshest surveillance; bread and water was her portion ; save the monk and tirewoman every eye in the Ohase spied on her openly. She did not fail to avail herself of the one consolation left to her — the ministrations of her confessor — and had a long interview with Father John in his cell the day after the stormy scene with Oharnwood. She came from that interview with a look almost of hope. In a day or two she made some timid overtures to her brother, signifying that her mind was changing as regarded the brilliant destiny in store for her. This brought some amelioration of her lot, though no greater liberty than before. As the weeks passed she grew bolder,,discussed her coming marriage with a shadow of her old sprightliness, and took some interest in her bridal adornments. Finally, with such outer tracquility as she could command, she went to her brother with the request on which hung all her hopes. This was that she might spend three or four days at her own manor of Haddingford, some 30 miles distant, and where she had spent much of her childhood. She wished, she said, to take leave of her old haunts, and dispense a few bounties among her vassals ere she became a countess. Lord Oharnwood bent bis brows sternly. " Mean you to try treachery 1 " he asked. Lilias laughed. 11 What treachery have yon left open to me? I have passed my word. Sir Hugh and I are dead to each other henceforth. Yonr brotherly love and care will provide me a sufficient guard, whose heads were forfeit if I escaped. And I make no doubt that you will so order that Haddingford will be as secure a prison to me as Oharnwood Chase. A bare look Out for treachery." Lord Oharnwood saw no flaw in this reasoning, and being reassured moreover by his secret knowledge of Sir Hugh being in London, and therefore unable to attempt any surprise by the way, he consented. In a few days preparations for the journey were finished, and Lilias quitted Oharnwood Ohase accompanied by Father John, Dolly Penlake, a number of female domestics, all surrounded by a strong armed guard. Lord Oharnwood's intentions were evident, his sister was a prisoner; but she heeded not, being relieved of her one fear— that he himself would go with them.

Old Dolly Penlake was heard loudly deploring the journey ; it was too long and too rough; and, moreover, she added, dropping her voice impressively, "It is said the malignant fever of the summer yet lingereth in the village of Haddingford ; and if it were to attack our sweet mistress what chance would there be for her life, so frail a flower as she is,? "

The maids turned pale, more on account of their own peril than faithful Dolly's misgivings. As Lilias went over the rough roads on her pillion she had one solace for her anxious and mournful thoughts. Two or three days before they left Oharnwood Sir Hugh found means to have delivered to Dolly Penlake a billet for Lilias. Though fears for her had kept him silent he had not been idle, and was even now perfecting a ounning scheme of escape. The plot was boldly conceived and fully detailed ; in a fortnight all would be ready. Lilias devoured it ia haste and secrecy ; she dar^d not, for his sake, risk the dear delight of keeping it, and with many a tear consigned it to the flames. The ardent affection of it almost broke her heatt anew with the struggle of renunciation.

The journey, slow and cumbrous enough in those days, being accomplished, Lilias found herself at Haddingford Manor. The rumours of fever there were but too well founded; nevertheless Mistress Ljlias persisted in taking an airing through the village next day, strongly guarded, as nsual. Scarce bad they returned when she complained of sudden and violent illness, and took to her chamber. Dolly Penlake came down, wringing her hands and orying " Alack for the day my sweet lady left Oharnwood 1 The fever hath taken her sure enough, and all last night the death watch ticked in the wainscot."

Blank fear filled every face. In those ignorant and unsanitary days the deadly ravages of malignant disorders brought on a superstitious terror at their appearance. Old Dolly promptly turned on the white-faced and murmuring crowd.

"Selfißh varlets I graceless hussies I What reck ye so long as the plague seiae not your own worthless skins, Not one of you shall go near that dear lamb but the holy father and I. Go and boy a holy candle to keep you safe withal ; and if the saints think you worth saviDg, they make more account of you than doth old Dolly Penlake ! "

So the sick-roam was left entirely to Dolly and Father John, who every hour announced that the patient grew worse. When at length the news of her death was given out no soul in Haddingford suspected the sad tale. Father John, mournful but composed, gave orders for the speedy burial enjoined in such cases, and the last offices to the dead were huniedly rendered by the two faithful watchers.

Some 30 hours later Lord Oharnwood was given the following letter :— To the Worshipful L.ord Qb.a,rnwood from his

pdor beadsman, John of Peterborough, greeting. It is laid upon me to break to your Lordship the sad and untimely decease of the noble Mistress Lilias Charnwood, who died this day of malignant fever at her manor of Huddingford. The>oble damsel, being ever of a bountiful Bpirit, would go forth and visit certain of her poor pensioners. The scourge of this fell disease yet lingering in the village, she unhappily caught the infection ; and in' 12 hours, as the manner of that disease is, she had ceased to live. I despatched messengers for a physician, but none could be found until too late ; meantime I used what skill I have acquired in ministeriDg to the sick in her behalf, assisted by her women ; taking such precautions aB were possible to guard against the spread of the fever. For that reason also I took speedy measures for the interment of the deceased lady in Haddingford Churchyard ; and am even now come from conducting her obsequies. In all this I trust I have acted conformably with what your Lordship would have wished. Mistress Lilias, when near her end, gave me a message for your Lordship. "Tell my brother," said she, "that death hath been merciful."

None other of the household hath yet been attacked. We await your orders. Dame Dolly Penlake craves leave to quit your service ; she is sorely broken with this sorrow in her old age, and would end her days in a holy house.

How far this- letter touched the hard heart of Ralph Charnwood was never known ; after the first needful formalities he was never heard to utter his sister's name.

Shortly after another letter by a trusty messenger reached the hand of Sir Hugh Tremayne— his first and last epistle from Liliaa. It ran thus' : —

My Own Sir Hugh,— Thy tender letter reached my hand surely. When I held it to the taper (for thy clear sake I dare not keep it) it was so wetted with my tears that it burned not easily. When this token reaches thoo thou wilt be told that I have ceased to Hvo ; so all thy plans and our hopes are overthrown, and for ever in this world. I cannot ween my rebellions heart so utterly from earth as to bid thee forget me and the sorrow I have unwittingly caused ; but Ido bid thee not to fret tby noble heart overmuch. It is well that poor Lilias Charnwood hath become to fchee only a memory. Her last thought on earth will be a prayer for thee that thy life may be long and filled with goodness and truth. My dear and true knight, I would fain say mucn more, but my time is short, and were I to write as much as a great book could hold it would but all come to this — that we have loved and lost, and the world hath been too strong and too cruel for us. Mine own love, farewell, and whatever consolation God sendeth (may it be much !) sometimes think on thy lost Lilias.

A year has passed since the supposed death of Lilias. The scene of our tale has shifted from the Midlands to the rocky shore of Cornwall. A castle of ancient fashion rears its head above tho surges of the coast. In one of its turret chambers sits its young miatress, the Lady Alicia, attended by two of her bower- women. The lady id employing herself with some nedlework. 11 1 am weary of all this stitching. It is well my brother comes not every week with & strange kinsman from tho court." " You will be rewarded for your toil tomorrow even, sweet lady. I warrant you will make a brave show," said the elder attendant, with a serving woman's ready smile.

11 Frippery, frippery, good Dolly," laughed the young lady. "Yet I ween it were some encouragement for us to prink ourselves gay for the nonce, seeing our usual beholders are but the seamews and my- good lord, who is nigh as poor a judge of finery as they. Come hither, Lettice Oraye, and tell me if another row of gold thread would become this ruff." The young bower-woman Btepped forward, and modestly gave her opinion. Shortly after Lady Alicia rose, saying,

" Now a truce to vanity. I will go play on the lute, and get my voice in tune."

The bower-women stitched on for a time ; then the younger rose and went to tho window.

11 Dost thou remember, Dolly," she said musingly, "it is a year this day since I heard them chant my own burial dirge at Haddingford. A 7ear to-night began our toilsome flight hither— a year since I took on me the lot of a peasant. But Our Lady hath been good to us. •' Ay, my lamb" (it was thus that faithful Dolly's tongue generally evaded the unfamiliar name of Lettice), "an' were it not sin and shame to see thee eat the bread of service. It were all joy to me to bring my old bonea to the Oornish coast and see the waves all a tumble on the rocks. The brewer's hog will ,ever back to the malt-wash, thou knowest." Lilias smiled, and replied, " Then, dear Dolly, grieve no more for me. Dost not know that Lilias Oharnwood is dead indeed, and Lettice Oraye liveth to be thankful she saved herself and risked none other. Here we are obscure and safe; the Lady Alicia is a kind mistress ; lam content."

The oastle, usually so quiet and oldfashioned, was noisy with preparation foe Lady Alicia's brother and strange kinsman. It was already night when the guests arrived. Lilias had superintended the toilette of Lad; Alicia, and after putting the last touch to her elaborate coiffure had withdrawn to hei own apartment with Dolly, it being theli custom to hold themselves muoh* apari. Some time later in the evoning Lilias remeu> bered that one of her nighth' tasks for lioi mistre3B had been lett undone, and left ho» chamber to attend to it. At tho end of a long and dimly-'ighted corridor she stopped for at the other end she discerned a H&uro ia knightly garb, attended by a folbntr fron the oastle. The knight gave some communi to bis follower, who then iu:ne«l and W* him. The voice struck on the lla'crer's cs* like a spell, and mechanically sh» KTustiG the half -lifted arras, feeling she could neither go forward nor backward. For it wad Hug.Tremayne himself who was striding up the gallery, all unaware of her presence. Now be comes out of the shadows into the light of the flaring torch, above her head. He sees in a flash the white-robed form of Lilias, her eyes like stars, her face as white as her dress. He recoils a step ; his fase is wild and ashen ; his hands outstretched as if to ward off a blow.

" Shade of my dead Lilias 1 why art thoa risen 1 Is my time come ? " ,

She does got speak ; her flaming eyes are fixed on his ; a human tremor is in the hand that still holds the arras. He draws nearer in trembling expectancy. " Dear ebaclow, speak ; tell me what them

wouldst have ; do not mook me with this too real seeming."

Still no answer. His outstretched hand falls timidly on her shoulder. With a deep shuddering sigh she falls forward into his arms, senseless. When she woke she was in a small adjoining chamber; Sir Hugh chafing her brow, her hands, with passionate words of endearment. She sat up, still dazed and wondering.

" Have I won thee from the grave," he said. " Tell me by, what strange chance Lilias Oharnwood was dead and buried, and yet lives. And, ah 1 tell me if tbou canst why I was left a-wearyyear to mourn thee."

" It was all for thy sake, Hugh; thy sake, and naught else," she pleaded. Sefore more could be said, a noise of approaching voices was heard. "60, go," Bhe whispered; "to-morrow I will tell thee all. Meet me by the great grey rock at the headland when the sun rises." She flew to her own room, and flung herself into Dolly's arms with the wonderful tidings. Neither of the lovers slept much that night ; and ere sunrise the tryst was kept by the great grey rock. There Lilias unfolded to Sir Hugh's wondering ear the whole story of her daring escape from Haddingford. " Thou v art my new Alcestis, come back from the tomb. But, ah I wanderer, I cannot choose but chide thee that thou didst not trust me, and have me to settle scores with that terrible brother of thine."

" Ab, but, Hugh, if he is mine own brother he is still the wickedest man alive— crafty as an Italian, cruel as a Spaniard. Oh, I could tell tales that froze my blood about his slow, unerring vengeance. Night and day I saw thy severed head before me—his brutal threat. What could I do but give thee up, and go my ways alone. Moreover, I must hide alone for ever ; did he by any chance discover what trick I have practised on him, doubt not he would find a knife to reach us. Thou must leave me in this safe hiding."

"No, sweetheart," said Sir Hugh, with a quiet Bmile, and fondly stroking her hair. "I think that we twain will part no mote; thou art my prisoner henceforth." But here Lilias displayed a strength of will few would have credited her with. Her brother's threatened vengeance had grown to a living nightmare with her; her lover's safety demanded her extinction. Sir Hugh's demands for a speedy and open marriage she steadily refused. After using argument aft er argument, Sir Hugh relarjsed into thought, and silently paced the sand; while Liliaß sadly gazed at the waves. At last he halted before her, and said, reflectively : "So thou wilt not be Lady Tremayne, Lilias?"

- " I will not be called Lady Tremayne. I dare not go where one might know my face again. But," she added, with a timid blush, " if, in thy nobleness, thou art content with co poor a bargain, let us be wedded secretly, let- me find 601119 humble- nesfc here in the south where I may dwell with Dolly. Thou wilt give me such days as may be stolon from thy higher affairs ; and I shall be at teat. Have I not said well 1 "

" Not co well as might be, Lilias mine," said the knight with a quiet smile. " A wilful woman must have her way it would appear. But thou sbalt not have all the sacrifice. Since thou hast taken the reel and distaff for my sake it is but meet I take the billhook and ploughshare for thine. Hugh Tremayne is henceforth as dead to the world as Liliaa Oharnwood.

Bluff King Harry was laid in his coffin. The gentla boy Edward sat lightly on the throne lately filled by the unweildy form of his imperious father. The reformation, stormily introduced and more stormily maintained, at last had peaoe to spread under the fostering care of Somerset and Cranmer. ■ It was'a high day in the New Forest, the Lord Protector, Somerset, rode to the chase with a rjrincely following of nobles. The day was declining, the stragglers were comiDg back byftwos and threes. The Lord Proteotor, somewhat removed from his attendants, was riding elowly through the trees, when a noble looking boy [of 17 in peasant's dress came and knelt before him entreating a short audience for his mother, who had the righting of a wrong to crave at his hands. Sach petitions were seldom reEu&ed by him the people called the Good Protector ; he turned his horse's head and followed Mb guide, who led him to a neat cottage such as the batter class of < yeomen were wont to inhabit. At the door stood a fair English matron of majestic bearing, who received him with dignified deference.

" The noble Lord Protector hath not disdained the cry of the poor at any time, so his humble vassal hath taken heait to frame her petition this day." "Speak on, dame," said Somerset graciously. "The welfare of England's people, the least as well as the greatest, is my care, for which I Bhall account to Heaven."

She mused a moment or two, her eyes intently fixed on him, then said suddenly : 11 My lord, we have met before. We have danced together in the revels at King Henry's court." The Protector stared In surprise, and she hastily added r, "But I will not detain your lordship with eu<& follies ; I only pray you to carry your mind back some 20 yeais. There was a peer named the Earl of Kthering." " I knew him well," he said. "Doth your lordship remember a treaty of marriage spoken of between him and the Bister of Lord Oharnwood ? " " I do, but Mistress Lilias Oharnwood died suddenly ." " She died not, my lord, for I am she." " Dame, you jest ; I have seen her tomb." "Ay, but Lilia3 Oharnwood slept not in St. Have patience, and I will tell you all." Once more the tale was told, Lilias concluding thus : " And now, my lord, I have been for 19 years the wife of Sir Hugh Tremayne, who ■was also deemed dead, and who for my sake laid aside name and fame and became a plain yeoman. We have prospered and been happy ; a fair son has been given to us, and for his sake I now plead to your lordship. Yestereven, my dear lord being now absent on his master's affairs, I was thrown into great disorder of mind, heajring that my brother, Lord Oharnwood, had died suddenly without an heir. Oharnwood Chase lies masterlessjTmy boy, my Hugh, is its rightful lord\ 0 let not might triujpph over right,

lor these are troublous times, and there are many who would trample on the poor and the friendless." "This it a strange tale," began Somerset. "Nay, but I have proofs. Here," she oried, producing papers in nervous haste, "here is the dying confession of Father John, attested by the Bishop of Peterborough. This is the last deposition of Dorothy Penlake, witnessed by^the Abbess of St. Ignatia. And I have other tokens to prove my tale." The Lord Protector turned, them over thoughtfully. " Are you Oatholio 1 " he asked suddenly. "We have embraced the reformed faith these 16 years since." " That is well," he said, musing. " Oharnwood is a centre of Popish disaffection ; were a Protestant lord fixed there it were good for the cause. But you know, dame, that the estate hath suffered much from the prodigalities of your brother." " I know it, I know it," she cried, clasping her hands in. strong excitement. "The Boothsayers foretold it all, and my boy, the peasant who is to be lord. Yes, they said it a hundred years ago : Charnwood of Charnwood shall wax and wane 1 Charnwood's might shall rise again When a churl in Charnwood comes to reign. "O my lord, behold him 1 Is he not a noble churl and fit to rule," she oried. with a burst of motherly tenderness. "Dame, or lady I would say, these matters shall be looked into speedily," Bald the Protector, as he rose to take bis departure.

Little more need be said. Somerset was as good as bis word, and the claims of young Hugh Tremayne were established. And after 20 years 1 absence Lilias again entered the home of her youth, with her stately husband on one hand and her fair son on the ofcher.

"Hugh," she whispered, "my cup runneth over when I think that I can now atone for the score of years though hast lost oat of tby life." And he whispered as tenderly : " If the world had been lost for ever, I had counted it well lost for thee, Lilias." [The End ]