On his return to Gunilda he found her melancholy, surprised and dejected. Adeliza was weeping, and Florimund tenderly endeavouring to console her.

Wolfred expressed his sorrow at the Earl's unsettled state of mind, but informed them, he could not discover the cause of his malady-his conversation was wild and incoherent, and nothing of direct signification could be gathered from it-one thing, however, he was sorry to state, he had forbidden Gunilda's approach to his chamber.

This information suddenly overcame her, she fainted, and after some hours indisposition, was conveyed to her own apartment. She was borne thither by Wolfred and Florimund, attended by Adeliza and two female domestics-still she remained insensible. It was at this time the crafty and malignant Wolfred seized the opportunity of commencing

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those operations which (with others without the castle, more singular and more mysterious) produced the dreadful sequel of these calamities.

Under a pretended anxiety for Gunilda's safety, he dispatched the domestics, one at a time, on different errands, then Adeliza, and in confusion afterwards fled himself, leaving Florimund, with a promise he would return instantly and bring a relief that before had not occurred to him.

Alas! before any female came back, he had conducted Ethelbald to the door of the chamber; who would have rushed in and seized Florimund, but from the previous advice of Wolfred, and his own determination on a more secret, more terrible revenge.

He returned to his apartment burning with the most violent anger, having been roused from sleep to the sight; and

therefore less capable of suspecting his brother's artifice.

Adėliza and the domestics returned; fresh stimulants were applied, and Gunilda began to recover as Wolfred reentered the room. Finding her after a little time somewhat restored, the latter, with Florimund, took their respectful leave and retired, leaving the domestics and Adeliza to comfort and conduct her to her pillow.

They then adjourned to the apartment from which they had carried Gunilda. After taking some refreshment, a secret consultation took place, that might probably have been the occasion of Wolfred's directing Gerald to conduct his follower (whose name was Barbold) into his presence. 14

"Here he is, my Lord, here he is," mutters Gerald; "ob, he's an ill-looking dog; when did he wash his face; or is he

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troubled in conscience, that his cheeks are of so many colours. His hair stands seven ways at once, as if he was frightened: a pretty follower forsooth. Ha, ha, ha! but never mind, never mind, so he has not picked up that wicked trick of-talking to himself!"

"Sirrah! leave the room," cries Wol fred, rising hastily. "Bless me?" returns Gerald, "I'm gone: what a thundering voice; he does not speak so loud when he is talking to himself I'm gone, my Lord, good night."

"Away, babbler!" he vociferates.

"I can hear you, my Lord; you need not speak so loud: good night, Florimund-good night, fellow-bless me, what an ugly man! I'm afraid he talks to himself, as well as his master, though I found him joking with the girls below; by the mass, I cannot think how they could like to talk to such an ill-looking

fellow; but they do, they like ill-looking fellows!

"Still hesitating!"

"Oh, no; I'm gone my Lord!—ah, dear, I remember when I was young, the little toads used to say I was too good looking for them by half-they like your ill-looking fellows, ah, ha, ha-they like your ill-looking fellows!"

"Begone, I say."

"I'm off, my Lord! Bless me! what a thundering voice! Lard! what an illlooking fellow !"

From this hour all was mystery and confusion in the castle, and our readers may prepare themselves for some of those horrors attendant on the unenlightened and iron times with which the subject is connected. The castle bell re-echoed with unusual sound-the rain beat against the stained casement, the wind hurtled through the rusty bars of the turret-the