CHAPTER VIII.

We came to the hall of the King, where it rose in the midst of rocks, on whose dark sides were the marks of streams of old. Broad oaks bend around with their moss. The thick birch is waving near. Half hid in her shady grove, Roscrana raises the song. Her white hands move on the harp. I beheld her blue rolling eyes. She was like a spirit of heaven half folded in the skirt of a cloud.

OSSIAN.

THE royal mansion, better known by the name of the White House, was built of wood on a foundation of chalk, and differed but little from the other houses in Sorbiodunum, except in its superior size, and the whiteness and smoothness of the materials with which it was constructed, and from which it derived its name; and excepting also that the doorway was formed by a double, instead of a single arch, and that it had apertures in the walls to admit the light. It is worthy of remark that the recent introductions of these novelties, had

made those who had received all their light from their doorways exclaim loudly against the new-fangled fancies brought over by the Romans, and prognosticate evil to the

country from these new lights!

The palace was only one story in height, and seemed an assemblage of distinct buildings, rather than a house comprising different apartments. A strong fence of palisades surrounded the royal domains, including likewise many dwellings occupied by the officers and attendants of the court, and formed a barrier of a horse-shoe shape, the two extremities of which extended to the margin of the stream. As a further defence, this stream, in other places narrow and fordable, was here artificially deepened and widened, and the banks made precipitous.

The mansion itself-so to speak-consisted of a hall, a parlour, or more private apartment, two or three bed-rooms, a buttery, a stable, a dog-kennel, a granary, and an oven or bakehouse, besides hovels for cattle, storehouses, and other offices; and it was surrounded by the habitations of the twenty-four great officers of the court.

On the arrival of the Arch Druid and Pudens

at the gate, the porter was summoned to his duty by two huge bull-dogs, which would have disputed the way with a couple of lions, as readily as with the less formidable animals which carried the visitors. The porter, recognizing the Arch Druid's milk-white mule, restrained his dogs, and drawing the mighty bolt, obsequiously threw open the gate; at the same time winding a rude horn, to give intimation of the arrival of so distinguished a guest. When they reached the palace, the door of the King's private apartment being open, they caught sight of the King amusing himself with the harp. The Arch Druid would have waited the conclusion of the strain, but as the King's dogs disturbed their master, he proceeded at once to the royal parlour leaving Pudens in the hall.

As the Arch Druid remained closeted a considerable time, during which he related Pudens' strange history to the King, our hero had an opportunity of minutely surveying the apartment. The walls were hung with arms, musical instruments, and trophies of the war and the chase, among which were to be seen the horns of the stag and buffalo, a large circular shield made of wicker coated with bronze, a

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huge brazen celt or species of battle-axe, and a harp and chrotta or kind of violin. A more elevated seat, in fashion not unlike our modern chairs, and covered with a bear-skin, seemed designed for royalty; and benches cushioned with the skins of wolves and foxes, seemed to fulfil less honourable uses. The fire-place consisted merely of a large slab of stone let into the centre of the floor, upon which were piled immense logs of wood, which made Ossian's expression 'flaming oaks' no exaggerated metonymy for a fire.

Pudens had hardly completed his observations, when he was ushered into the royal presence. The King was a middle-aged, martial-looking chief, with long mustachios on his upper lip, and hair turned back upon the crown of the head, and falling down in long bushy curls behind. On his entrance, his host drank to him out of a shell studded with gems, and then presented it to Pudens; such being the customary mode of salutation.

The son of the King was in one corner of the apartment, very busily employed in stringing and adorning a bow; while at his feet sat two favourite hounds, the white-breasted Bran, who frequently brought down three deer in the

course of one chase, and a surly, superannuated, strongly-built Manchester hound, who growled a recognition when addressed by the name of Luath (H). The King eyed Pudens with a kind of cautious curiosity as he stood before them in his Roman garb; and his son's countenance certainly displayed as much defiance as hospitality, as he seemed measuring his limbs with his eye, as though to compare their relative strength. But a few moments served to dispel all their distrust of the stranger; for when the King, from whose mind the appearance of Pudens had for a moment obliterated what he had just heard respecting his parentage, commenced the conversation with the address, "Young Roman—”.

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Sire," interrupted Pudens, speaking in Gallic, "I am not a Roman, but a Briton."

The old man's eyes sparkled with pleasure at this declaration; and his son, unused to suppress emotions of any kind, gave a violent cheer, and springing from his seat, squeezed the hand of Pudens till the blood almost burst through the skin, as a testimony of the satisfaction which he felt. Pudens, it must be acknowledged, felt a little disconcerted at this