The Lances of Lynwood

arrived from England, a letter from Father Cyril, praying him to return home as soon as possible, since his sister-in

n he rode through Bruton; but, eager to arrive, he pushed on, though twilight had fast faded into night, and heavy clouds, laden with brief but violent showers, were drifting across the face of the moon

ng Knight, who gazed upon them long and affectionately, as he felt himself once more at home. "I wonder," said he, "to see the light strongest towards the east end of the Castle! I knew not that the altar lights in the chapel co

ddenly backed, and he perceived that it was raised. "This is some strange chance!" said he, renewing the summons

"he is not the sole inhabitant of th

ng of the hall door!" said Eustace

ined with standing still in the driving rain. Cannot we betake ourselves to

aid Sir Eustace, springing from his saddle; "I can c

wet, and rendered still more perilous by the darkness. Gaston followed, balancing himself with some difficulty, and at last they safely reached the other side. Eustace tried the heavy gates, b

n step. After a long steep ascent, Gaston heard another door open, and though still in total darkness, perceived that they had gained a wider space. "The passage from the hall to the chapel," whispered the Knight, and feeling by the wall, they crept along, until a buzz of voices reached their ears, and light gleamed beneath a

nd was greeted by a frightful shriek, which made him at first repent of having alarmed his sister, but the next glance showed him that her place was empty, and a

first broken by a fair-faced boy, who, breaking from the trembling circle, c

ce, bending down, and holding out his hand, said, "I

der; and at the same moment old Ralph, with uplifted hands, cried, "Blessing on t

ace, as his eye met that of Father Cyril, who, summoned

r is where the wicked may trouble her no more. It is thr

his day," said Ralph Penrose, "

me with me, my son Eustace, if you would take a la

rs in his eyes, for he had loved the gentle Eleanor with the trusting affection of a younger brother. He thought of that joyous time, the first brilliant day of his lonely childhood, when the gay bridal cavalcade came sweeping down the hill, and he, half in pleasure, half in shyness, was led forth by his mother to greet the fair young bride of his brother. How had she brightene

for some time in silence, then laying his hand on his arm said, "She is in peace. Mourn not that her sorrows are at an end, her tears wiped away, but

he utmost as long as I have life or breath! Oh! had I but come

eaven, and died in the sure belief that her child would be guarded; and lo, his protector is come, if, a

I love them better than before. Little did I dream what a meeting awaited me!" Again there was a long p

ked men otherwise than to pray for them," said the Prie

he hall, where he found Gaston and Ingram, just come in from attending to the horse

t greeted you aright. You must throw the blame on the tidings that took from me al

etter welcome than barred gates and owlet shrieks; but did you but know how wildly your bugle-blast rose upon our ear, while we sat over the fir

indow, but that Mistress Cicely held me fast; and when they sent Jocelyn

Gaston; "you believed in our gh

y all these precautions? Why the drawbridge

e but myself on this first night of his return; thanks be to St. Dunstan that he has come!" Eustace stood patiently for several minutes while the old man fumbled with his armour, and presently came the excl

e had not attained the height or the breadth of the stalwart figures of his father and brother, but was still slight and delicate looking. The golden spurs and the sword of Du Gues

privacy in conversation than such as was afforded by the comparative seclusion of the party round the hearth, consisting of the Knight, his arm around his little nephew, who was leaning fondly against him; of Father Cyril, of Gaston, and old Ralph, in

ather, Arthur, bade me beware of him when he committ

"Did he commit the boy to your guardi

ton. "Ay! and you, Ingram, must have been wi

d Ashton,"

o be confronted with Clarenham. It is the personal wardship t

then to the guardian

a new succession, and on Eleanor's indignant refusal, followed it up by a further claim to the wardship of the person of Arthur himself, both in right of his alleged feudal superiority, and as the next of kin who was of full age. Again was his demand refused, and shortly after Lady Lynwood's alarms were brought to a height by an attempt on his part to waylay her son and carry him off by force, whilst riding in the neighbourhood of the Castle. The plot had failed, by the fidelity of the villagers of Lynwood, but the shock to the lady had increased the progress of the decay of her health, already undermined by grief. She never again trusted her son beyond the Castle walls; she trembled whenever he was out of her sight,

and the hope of its fulfilment lessening, she obtained a promise from Father Cyril that he would conduct the boy to the Abbey of Glastonbury, a

had intended to keep Arthur within the sanctuary of the chapel until he could depart under the care of twelve monks of Glastonbury, who were coming in the stead