tain, so famed, is not unknown to me; but I must onward on my journey, nor =taste the bounty which all admire." "Sir Knight! this is not courteous." "Lady, adieu! it must not be: I live in hopes that we shall meet again." Saying this, he pressed her hand to his lips, and mounting his steed, flew with the rapidity of the winds along the shadowed plain that stood before her. His horse, so fleet, seemed to skim along the ground and in an instant he was borne from her sight. : Erilda was astonished; there was a wildness in the jet black eye of the unknown, that, while it fascinated, alarmed her a beautiful colour tinged his cheek; but not of that nature to which she was accustomed. His locks were black and sleek-his figure was noble and commanding-his voice, though harmony itself, still conveyed a hollow sound that was not pleasing. In short, his whole appearance, while it charmed to admiration, filled her with a kind of tremor; and she returned to the palace of Rhuddlan, charmed, and at the same time awed, with the martial appearance of the stranger. "What majesty in his countenance!" exclaimed she to herself." What nobleness in his demeanour! And, ah! what melancholy seems to occupy his soul, that dims the sparkling lustre of his jet black eye, and clouds those animating features, otherwise beaining with cheerfulness. Surely such dejection is not natural in him? No, no; some hidden secret preys upon his heart; perhaps love, which, as I have heard bards relate, feeds upon the roseate hue of health-gives languor to the eyepaleness to the cheek-and despoils the heart of its manhood-that reduce firmness to trepidity-and poisons the noble mind with weaknessess that are engendered by timidity." Erilda sighed.-Sir Rhyswick met her as she was seeking her chamber; the good old man bore the resemblance of his grief upon his fretted cheek; but be endeavoured to be cheerful; and, with an assumed smile, he conducted her to the supper-hall. Erilda vainly attempted to be gay, but variety of thought occupied her brain; the soul-inspiring song of the family bard charmed not her ear, who, at the board, when the gay goblet circulated at the tables, raised high his tuneful voice to the sublimest pitch, in commemoration of deeds of other days, and sung of triumph, and of glorious war. Erilda, whose heart was affected by another subject, was not moved with the sweet sounds of the trembling harp, nor participated in that emotion which the song of patriotism inspired in the breasts of the auditors. Had the theme been love, the air been plaintive as the ringdove's tender tale, Erilda's soul had wasted in the strain, and owned the power of music, when in melody with her feelings. Affectionately imprinting a kiss upon the bearded cheek of Sir Rhyswick, attended by her page, she bade adieu to the knight; and, retiring to her couch, attempted to lull those wild and troubled thoughts that agitated and oppressed her; but the blood-plumed knight, in her slumbers, stood before her: his graceful form-his pensive, melancholy countenance, she pictured to herself and sighs of regret, when she awoke, and found the unreal image vanished, stole from her heaving breast. : With the first dawn of morning, Erilda arose, and flew to the monastery of Rhuddlan, to offer up her daily prayers. The holy father confessor gave her absolution, on a declaration of her errors; and again she sought the much-loved spot, where she had met the unknown. She looked towards the path he had taken the preceding evening, but he no longer occupied it; and, seating herself upon the rock, she played an air, soft and melodious as the strains of Philo mel; but, dissatisfied with her execution, she turned the instrument aside; her voice, she conceived, wanted its usual sweetness-the harp was out of tuneand her fingers, lingering upon the strings, damped the swelling note. Erilda sighed, and sighed so deep, that the echo, from the excavated rocks, returned them to her ear.-At length the tear glistened in her eye. "Why, why am I thus concerned for a wandering unknown, whom chance, perhaps, conducted to this spot for a first, and only time? Who, ere now, is leagues distant from my sighs, and who does not entertain one thought of me? Away, hope, thou delusive image, from my bosom-I never shall behold him more-my heart must harbour no such sighs." Saying this, with the firmness of resolution, she turned her step towards the castle. Sir Rhyswick was preparing for the chase; the hounds and hawks were abroad-all was' noise and confusion-and Erilda consented to make one of the throng. Buckling on her breast the mantle of green, and slinging across her shoulder the bow and arrow quiver, mounted on a cream-backed palfrey, she joined them. The heroic huntress fleetly pursued; while the horns and hounds echoed from another part of the plain. Long did the doe maintain her speed, and kept in sight, with the arrow in her breast, until the pale-faced moon appeared, emerging from a cloud, and silvering the glassy lake. At length, the wounded animal dropped, and instantly expired. Erilda dismounted her steed; and now, she first discovered herself to be absent from her train, and at an hour when angry demons ride upon the air and mutter mischief. Cold winds wafted her brown hair aside; and fast descended the grey mist of evening. In vain Erilda listened to catch the halloo of the huntsmen. No longer the horn sounded in the vale-all was drear and silent, save the hollow murmuring of the wind, forcing its passage, sighing through the trees. Almost fainting with fear, she leaned upon her bow; she endeavoured to blow the horn that was suspended at her breast, but it fell from her grasp, and the bow shrunk from her At length, summoning more fortitude, she remounted her steed; and not knowing what road to take, gave her horse the reins, trusting herself to the protection of her household spirit.Away flew the impatient steed through the forest-over hill and dale: the turf trembled beneath his hoofs, and the white foam frothed at his extended nostrils. On a sudden, the bell of a neighbouring monastery sounded in the gale, and blazing torches were seen waving through different parts of a wood that lay before her. The adjacent forest echoed back the huntsmen's loud horns, and the affright-hand. ed deer pricked up their ears to the well-known blast. The yell of the dogs sounded in the deep glens-the loud halloo succeeded-and nimbly o'er the bogs and marshes bounded the fleet object of their sport. It was noon when Sir Rhyswick ordered his vassals to strike their tents upon the plain; and, after refreshing them with a rich repast, again they repaired to renew the chase; the ripe mead, in a golden goblet, was presented to the fair Erilda, who, in the midst of her damsels, looked like the goddess of the wood-and Sir Rhyswick drank from the hirlas horn the soul-reviving cwrrw. Soon again was the panting deer pursued up craggy cliffs through streams and vallies-over the heath-across the moor-and through the mazy forest. Erilda startled a speckled doe from the bosom of a dark glen ; and drawing her arrow to the head, in the silver bow, pierced her in the breast. Though wounded the animal made good her flight, and darted away like lightning. "Hilli, oh ho!" cried the huntress, with hope animating her bosom ; "Hilli oh ho!" but her voice returned responsive to her ear, and the flaming brands disappeared. Still she pursued the path, and fleetly flew the creambacked palfrey on which she rodenow again the huntsman's horn was heard winding at a great distance, and now the approaching clank of horses' hoofs convinced her that the attendants of the chieftain, her father, were in pursuit of her. Erilda, checking her steed, awaited their coming up with her; but those in pursuit took a different route; and the sounds dying away, as the attendants receded, all was again hushed. At length, weary of suspense, she proceeded; and, turning the angle of a jutting rock that bulged in the fertile Clwyd, she observed a horseman slowly parading its banks. Pensive was his face-his right hand rested on a battleaxe-his left held the reins of a nutbrown courser his soul seemed occupied by melancholy-his brain to be distracted by tormenting thoughts. Erilda advanced towards him, and fixing her blue eyes upon his cheek, to her astonishment recognized the stranger Knight of the Blood-red Plume. His vizor was up, and melancholy tinged his whole countenance-a sigh, half suppressed, trembled on his lips-despondency seemed to depress his heart, that shed a transitory gloom over every feature, and preyed upon that energy of mind, which his interesting eye betrayed as certainly possessing. Erilda, unable to curb her impetuous steed, who reared upon his hind legs, and snorted in rage, called to the Knight, who, wrapped in thought, observed her not. "Good stranger," cried the daughter of haughty Rhuddlan's chieftain, "I throw myself under your protection; conduct the strayed Erilda to Rhuddlan's hall, and the blessings of a distracted parent shall be your's." "Divine daughter of the first of chieftains," replied the Knight, eagerly grasping his horse's reins; "I am subject to your commands-my life shall be devoted to your service." Erilda, smiling, gave him her hand, which he pressed respectfully to his lips: and, proceeding, the lofty turrets of Rhuddlan appeared in view. The pale moon, shedding her rays on its dark battlements, reflected them to the Clwyd, which in soft billows rippled beneath the mount on which it stood. Numberless torches were seen glaring in the hands of the disconsolate attendants of the chieftain, who, in the agony of grief, dispersed them round the country in search of her. All was bustle; and, no sooner did she appear among them, than loud shouts rent the air, and they flew to bear the welcome tidings to Sir Rhyswick. The stranger Knight conducted her across the courts; and the fond father, impatient to clasp her to his arms, hastened towards her. Erilda fell upon his bosom; and the tear of joy dropped from the old man's beard upon her shoulder. The Knight, in his turn, received the caresses of the venerable chieftain, who, boundless in his joy, would have lavished on him empires, had he had them to command. "Tell me, Sir Knight," cried Rhyswick, "to whom am I indebted for the restoration of Erilda to my aged arms? Let me fall upon my knees at his feet, and bless him." "Hospitable chieftain, my name is Wertwrold, a forlorn and suffering wanderer; the world contains no home to shelter me-no friend to welcome me; but, though sorrows oppress my heart, I am ever ready to give joy to others, -Erilda is once more yours," he added with a sigh, and bowing his head, was about to depart. 66 Nay, stranger, this night you must share that joy which you have imparted to our breast, and make Rhuddlan your residence." "Your pardon," cried the Knight, "my envious fortune denies that I should taste of pleasure-I must away, ere the stars fade on the horizon." "Wertwrold," returned Erilda, "the maid whom you have protected entreats your stay-upon her knee entreats it: do not dispirit our festivity by your departure. Come, let me conduct you to the marble-hall." The Knight, overpowered by their entreaties, at length yielded; and Erilda taking him by the hand, introduced him to the festive board, where sat the harpers, tuning their strings, awaiting the approach of the chieftain and his guests. Wertwrold appeared struck with the dazzling splendor of the hall that had regaled princes: rich crimson tapestry hung down the walls in festoons fringed with gold, between pillars of the fairest marble, disposed at equal distances, supporting cornices of polished silver; the carved ceiling displayed emblematical devices of war and of the chase; in one part, Diana was painted with her bow; in another, Caractacus engaging the Romans. Erilda conducted the Knight to a cedar stool, covered with crimson, and edged with gold, at the table, on which were profusely scattered carved goblets, sumptuously embossed, and flowing with ripe mead. The harpers, during the repast, raised their voices in praise of the ancestors of Rhyswick, and regularly traced his descent, in bardic song: describing each great feat his fathers had performed. And now, the midnight bell sounding, dissipated their mirth-the bards were dismissed-and Wertwrold was led to a couch by one of the attendants, after saluting the fair hand of Erilda, which she offered to him, in token of her favour. The morning dawned unusually splendid-the early dew sparkled on the grass blade -and the effulgent sun rising, tinted the horizon with his gay beams-gentle was the air that played around the mountains-sweet and odoriferous was the scented gale-the river Clwyd timidly flowing, fearful lest it should interrupt the calmness that prevailed, was scarcely seen to move and Erilda, whose troubled thoughts the preceding evening had denied her rest, hastened to the delightful rock where she first beheld the stranger, Wertwrold; there to indulge in sighs, and those thoughts that, while they pained, pleased. The solitary spot afforded her an opportunity to indulge in the melancholy of her mind; here she could sit and gaze with pensive eye upon the calm waters, as they laved against the shore, and involve her brain in a chaos of bewildering reflection, unobserved by any one. Erilda never knew till now what it was to love -never knew till now what sighs the | absence of him or her we love createsand now she felt the pains, was unable to sustain them. The Red-plumed Knight was master of her heart and of her fate; violent was the passion that raged in her bosom, threatening to consume her by a slow lingering fire; for it appeared impossible the passion could be gratified. Seated upon an arm of the rock that overhangs the Clwyd, tears flowing down her lovely cheeks, agitated by similar thoughts, and overcome by weight of her emotions, weary, not having tasted of repose the preceding night, she sunk into a gentle slumber, her head reclined upon her lily arm. Wertwrold left the castle to taste of the refreshing air, ere the Baron descended from his chamber, or the loud bell summoned them to breakfast. His feet, as if by instinct, led him to the spot where first Erilda had attracted his notice. How much was be astonished to behold the lovely maiden in a sweet sleep! He stood awhile to observe her, and the tenderest sensation thrilled through his whole soul; her auburn locks played carelessly upon her tempies, and her blue eyes were shrowded with her long dark lashes; the tint of the carnation was displayed upon her cheek -a perfect ruby colour were her lipsthe white rose leaf, through which runs the blue enamelled vein, was not more fair than her forehead, or more sweet than her breath-the soft air that played around her, wafted the thin gauze aside that shadowed her snowy bosom, and revealed beauties, which monarchs, on beholding, would have languished to enjoy.-Wertwrold, transported in the ecstasy of passion, dropped upon his knee, and imprinted a kiss upon her cheek. Erilda, at this moment, awoke; and the Knight, conscious of the crime he had committed, drew back, abashed and trembling. Erilda was alike confused, and Wertwrold, seizing this opportunity, clasped hold of her hand with fervour, and pressing it between his, exclaimed, "Lovely Erilda, pardon the presump tion which your beauty has inspiredif 'tis a crime to adore you, then am I most criminal; but I bow to my fatedoomed to be unhappy, I willingly resign myself the victim of cruel fortune." "Say, Sir Knight," cried the embarrassed Erilda, lending her hand to raise him from the ground, "why are you thus persecuted? Repose your sorrows in my bosom; indeed, you will find in me one much interested for you. -Erilda, from her heart pities you." "And does Erilda pity me?" he returned, rising, and assuming a seat by her side. 66 'Oh, welcome, ye sorrows! for, henceforward, mingled with your bitter tears, ye convey a pleasure in the thought, that she whom all the world adores, feels for my sufferings; the scalding tear shall no longer flow without its balm-the arrow of anguish, while it wounds, shall on its poison-tipt point, convey a healing balsam to my soul." "But say, Sir Knight-why is your fate involved in mystery? Lend me your confidence-make me mistress of your secret-my bosom shall be its prisonhouse; and so tenacious will I be in retaining it, that even to myself I will not dare to whisper it." Oh, lady, could I burst the fetters that chain my tongue to secresy, I should enjoy a luxury in my grief; but, no, it is forbid-you behold in me a houseless wanderer, against whom the vengeance of Heaven is imprecated, doonied, for a term, to be a solitary inhabitant of the earth-with no settled home to shelter me-no friend to console meno one to whom I can confide my sor | less as the mountain's dazzling snow, whose beauty shall be the theme of courts and palaces-whose virtue shall be the admiration of those, whom, with parent bounty she has fostered-whose hand shall be urged by knights of rank and enterprize-who shall withstand the temptation of wealth and power, equipage and title-who shall sincerely love me for myself alone, and brave all dangers, to arrive at the haven of my arms." Erilda turned pale; the colour on her cheek flew, and her whole frame became agitated. At this moment the loud bell of the castle tolled the breakfast hour, and endeavouring to re-assume her wonted spirits, "Come," she cried gaily, we have wasted much time in idle talk.” 66 Wertwrold lent her his arm, and they proceeded to Rhuddlan. The young Knight at their earnest solicitation, consented to remain at the castle a few days, and various sports were devised to amuse him: nothing was spared to make him forget his griefs. But, in the midst of splendid gaiety, Wertwrold was still himself— melancholy still clouded his brow, and stole the roseate colour of his cheek. On the second evening, as the last rays of the sun were reflected upon the lakes, and the misty crown of twilight circled the mountain's peak, Erilda, whose bosom was tortured by the love she bore the unhappy Wertwrold, strayed in the garden adjoining the castle. The day had been rather sultry, and, attended by her little foot page, she made towards the fountain, with an intent to bathe. She had already unloosed her hair, when she observed, extended upon the yellow sands, Wertwrold; he was in a sound sleep-and, approaching with tremulous step, she hung over him with an eye brimful of tears. "Unhappy Knight!" she cried."Where shall be found the maid who can assuage the anguish of thy bosom, and restore it to its former peace?— Where shall that maid be found, speckless as thou hast described, who will renounce every pretension for thee? |