CHAPTER III. The waning harvest-moon shone broad and bright, LEYDEN. "AND you too would be a soldier, Roland ?" said the Lady of Avenel to her young charge, while, seated on a stone chair at one end of the battlements, she saw the boy attempt, with a long stick, to mimic the motions of the warder, as he alternately shouldered or ported or sloped pike. 66 Yes, lady," said the boy, for he was now familiar, and replied to her questions with readiness and alacrity," a soldier will I be; for there ne'er was gentleman but who belted him with the brand." "Thou a gentleman!" said Lilias, who, as usual, was in attendance; "such a gentleman as I would make of a bean cod with a rusty knife.” 66 Nay, chide him not, Lilias," said the Lady of Avenel, "for, beshrew me, but I think he comes of gentle blood-see how it musters in his face at your injurious reproof." "Had I my will, madam," answered Lilias, "a good birchen wand should make his colour muster to better purpose still." "On my word, Lilias," said the lady, "one would think you had received harm from the poor boy-or is he so far on the frosty side of your favour because he enjoys the sunny side of mine ?" "Over heaven's forbode, my lady," answered Lilias; "I have lived too long with gentles, I praise my stars for it, to fight with either follies or fantasies, whether they relate to beast, bird, or boy.' Lilias was a favourite in her own class, a spoiled domestic, who was often accustomed to take more license than her mistress was at all times willing to encourage. But what did not please the Lady of Avenel, she did not choose to hear, and thus it was on the present occasion. She resolved to look more close and sharply after the boy, who had hitherto been committed chiefly to the management of Lilias. He must, she thought, be born of gentle blood; it were shame to think otherwise of a form so noble, and features so fair. The very wildness in which he occasionally indulged, his contempt of danger, and impatience of restraint, had in them something noble. Assuredly the child was born of high rank; such was her conclusion, and she acted upon it accordingly. The domestics around her, less jealous, or less scrupulous than Lilias, acted as servants usually do, following the bias, and flatter ing, for their own purposes, the humour of the lady; and the boy soon took on him those airs of superiority, which the sight of habitual deference seldom fails to inspire. It seemed, in truth, as if to command were his natural sphere, so easily did he use himself to exact and receive compliance with his humours. The chaplain, indeed, might have interposed to check the air of superiority which Roland Græme so readily indulged, and most probably would have willingly rendered him that favour; but the necessity of adjusting with his brethren some disputed points of church discipline had withdrawn him for some time from the Castle, and detained him in a distant part of the kingdom. Matters stood thus in the Castle of Avenel, when a winded bugle sent its shrill and prolonged notes from the shore of the lake, and was replied to cheerily by the signal of the warder. The Lady of Avenel knew the sounds of her husband, and rushed to the window of the apartment in which she was sitting. A band of about thirty spearmen, with a pennon displayed before them, winded along the indented shores of the lake, and approached the causeway. A single horseman rode at the head of the party, his bright arms catching a glance of the October sun as he moved steadily along. Even at that distance, the lady recognised the lofty plume, bearing the mingled colours of her own liveries, blended with the holly-branch; and the firm seat and dignified demeanour of the rider, joined to the stately motion of the dark-brown steed, sufficiently announced Halbert Glendinning. The lady's first thought was that of rapturous joy at her husband's return-her second was connected with a fear which had sometimes intruded itself, that he might not altogether approve the peculiar distinction with which she had treated her orphan ward. In this fear there was implied a consciousness, that the favour she had shewn him was excessive; for Halbert Glendinning was at least as gentle and indulgent, as he was firm and rational in the intercourse of his household; and to her, in particular, his conduct had ever been most affectionately tender. Yet she did fear, that, on the present occasion, her conduct might incur Sir Halbert's censure; and hastily resolving that she would not mention the anecdote of the boy until the next day, she ordered him to be withdrawn from the apartment by Li lias. "I will not go with Lilias, madam," answered the spoiled child, who had more than once carried his point by perseverance, and who, like his betters, delighted in the exercise of such authority,—“ I will not go to Lilias's gousty room-I will stay and see that brave warrior who comes riding so gallantly along the drawbridge." "You must not stay, Roland," said the lady, more positively than she usually spoke to her little favourite. 66 "I will," reiterated the boy, who had already felt his consequence, and the probable chance of success. "You will? Roland!" answered the lady," what manner of word is that? I tell you, you must go." 66 Will," answered the forward boy, "is a word for a man, and must is no word for a lady.” You are saucy, sirrah," said the lady—“ Lilias, take him with you instantly." 66 "I always thought," said Lilias, smiling, as she seized the reluctant boy by the arm, "that my young master must give place to my old one." "And you, too, are malapert, mistress," said the lady; "hath the moon changed, that ye all of you thus forget yourselves ?" Lilias made no reply, but led off the boy, who, too proud to offer unavailing resistance, darted at his benefactress a glance, which intimated plainly how willingly he would have defied her authority, had he possessed the power to make good his point. The Lady of Avenel was vexed to find how much this trifling circumstance had discomposed her, at the moment when she ought naturally to have been entirely engrossed by her husband's return. But we do not recover composure by the mere feeling that agitation is mistimed. The glow of displeasure had not left the lady's check, her |