even within this very hour?” inquired Sir Otto anxiously, and with the fervour of inspiration. “Not so,” said Gabrielle gravely; “I have not forgotten the armour which you now wear; and perhaps it may be destined to make good on this occasion the disgrace which it sustained in the former encounter; or, perhaps, by new misfortune, to complete the measure of my distresses. But as on that fatal night I was anxious and impatient for the combat, for the present, I am, on the contrary, determined to practise self-control. To-morrow, therefore, you shall enter the lists at mid-day, in the great square of the castle. Till that hour, let us speak no more of the disputes which have led to this meeting; but rather (if it be allowed me to make one more request) let the time be spent in unrestrained mirth and jollity.” Sir Folko made a low obeisance, and in a few minutes contrived that his party were all elegantly and luxuriously placed beneath the green arcades of the beech-wood. Thereafter sparkling wine and the richest viands were handed round among the guests. This led to much gay and convivial talk; at length also to songs and music, to which various individuals contributed, every one as he was best able. Of a sudden, an earnest request was suggested, and passed from one to another, that the Lady Blanchefleur would sing the tragical fortunes of Heloise and Abelard, with some of the noble masters of minstrelsy, who were there present. For this purpose she sought out a young man from her brother’s train, who was named Master Aleard, and thereafter they began together a ballad, in alternate parts, on the story of these unfortunate lovers, and sang so sweet and mournfully, that when they had concluded, tears gleamed in many a beautiful eye, and even the boldest warriors were moved. Otto felt the sounds reverberate even to his inmost heart; it seemed to him almost as if the whole ballad had been made upon his own fortunes, little as such a melancholy legend was suited to his present condition; and he could not help repeating to himself, in a low voice, some of the concluding stanzas. Meanwhile Sir Folko de Montfaucon looked gloomily on the ground, with an expression contrasting strangely with his usual demeanour. At last he cast a stern angry glance at the Lady Blanchefleur, who was then speaking earnestly with the minstrel Aleard; whereupon she arose, and came hastily to her brother, taking her place beside him, which she did not quit again through the evening. As if now well satisfied with her conduct, Sir Folko devoted almost his whole attention to her, contriving a thousand agreeable stories for her entertainment. It seemed, however, now and then, as if tears glittered in the beautiful mild eyes of the damsel; and the young Master Aleard retired, thoughtful and disconsolate into the deep thickets of the forest. The cool evening now settled on the woods. From the ground, densely strewed with fallen beech-leaves, there arose damp vapours, and