"This is no selfish emotion, Philip," said the Constable, resuming self-command. "I grieve less that she has left me, than that she has misjudged me--that she has treated me as the pawnbroker does his wretched creditor, who arrests the pledge as the very moment elapses within which it might have been relieved. Did she then think that I in my turn would have been a creditor so rigid?--that I, who, since I knew her, scarce deemed myself worthy of her when I had wealth and fame, should insist on her sharing my diminished and degraded fortunes? How little she ever knew me, or how selfish must she have supposed my misfortunes to have made me! But be it so--she is gone, and may she be happy. The thought that she disturbed me shall pass from my mind; and I will think she has done that which I myself, as her best friend, must in honour have advised." So saying, his countenance, to the surprise of his attendants, resumed its usual firm composure. "I give you joy," said the esquire, in a whisper to the minstrel; "your evil news have wounded less deeply than, doubtless, you believed was possible." "Alas!" replied the minstrel, "I have others and worse behind." This answer was made in an equivocal tone of voice, corresponding to the peculiarity of his manner, and like that seeming emotion of a deep but very doubtful character. "Eveline Berenger is then married," said the Constable; "and, let me make a wild guess,--she has not abandoned the family, though she has forsaken the individual--she is still a Lacy? ha?--Dolt that thou art, wilt thou not understand me? She is married to Damian de Lacy--to my nephew?" The effort with which the Constable gave breath to this supposition formed a strange contrast to the constrained smile to which he compelled his features while he uttered it. With such a smile a man about to drink poison might name a health, as he put the fatal beverage to his lips. "No, my lord--not married," answered the minstrel, with an emphasis on the word, which the Constable knew how to interpret. "No, no," he replied quickly, "not married, perhaps, but engaged- troth-plighted. Wherefore not? The date of her old alliance was out, why not enter into a new engagement?" "The Lady Eveline and Sir Damian de Lacy are not affianced that I know of," answered his attendant. This reply drove De Lacy's patience to extremity. "Dog! dost thou trifle with me?" he exclaimed: "Vile wire-pincher, thou torturest me! Speak the worst at once, or I will presently make thee minstrel to the household of Satan." Calm and collected did the minstrel reply,--"The Lady Eveline and Sir Damian are neither married nor affianced, my lord. They have loved and lived together--_par amours_."