awaited, dagger in hand, for the first movement of Edith and the first sigh from the king to stab the latter. In the midst of the poor fool's story, Edith follows her own train of thought only. The king loves her! Why not be the king's wife rather than that of the king's favourite?... Did not the king put his ring of betrothal on her finger?... A ring--it is a crown in miniature! Meantime, Edith must be got out of the tomb, which weighs heavily on her, and take advantage of the night to reach Ethelwood's château. Ethelwood will go and explore the surroundings and then, if the road be deserted, he will return and fetch Edith. Edith is left alone for a moment and makes use of the time to search for traces of the king's footsteps on the damp flagstones, and the marks of his hand on the cold marble. In that brief moment she discloses her heart and the abyss of ambition which has swallowed up all her love. Ethelwood returns to fetch her. It is almost with regret that she leaves the vault where a king has kissed her brow and passed a ring on her finger. The next act is in the count's château. Edith seems happy. Ethelwood is happy. The arrival of the king is announced. What has he to do at the count's home? Edith would know why; obliged to hide herself from being seen by the king, she does it in such a way as not to lose a word he says to the count. The king is profoundly sad. Like all wounded hearts, he seeks for conflict; the war with France affords a diversion for his grief; he will go on the Continent. But he wants a firm and trustworthy regent for his State during his absence; he has thought of Ethelwood, who shall be the regent, and, to reward him for his devotion, and, still more, to attach him to the interests of the kingdom, sure as he is of his loyalty, he will give him his sister in marriage.