seized with a sudden panic, darted from her hiding-place and flew along the corridor, till she struck herself with such force against a column midway, that for some moments she lost her senses. On recovering, all was silence and darkness as before; and having lost every trace and recollection of the way she ought to pursue to regain the chamber, she groped on at random, terrified at the noise of her own footsteps, and bitterly blaming the idle curiosity which had exposed her, and perhaps her lover, to a danger that seemed the more terrible from its being so formless and indefinite.

The name of power and terror she had heard pronounced,— that name which had so often scared her dreams, and made her bless herself from the power of bad spirits, when starting at midnight from her troubled slumbers,-had chilled her very heart. She was now in the den, almost within the grasp, of the dreaded Artaveld. The little she had been able to observe only proved the truth of the tales which charged him with habitual riot and debauchery; and as her imagination passed onward in the scale of crime, when any object of dubious substance impeded her foot, she withdrew it, shuddering.

She at length reached a door, through the chinks of which she could perceive that the apartment within was lighted up; and here, while pausing in hesitation, a voice struck her ear which made her heart leap with joy; for it was that of Philip. Presently, a slight noise, as of persons retiring from the room by another egress, ensued; and Marie, fearful of losing her lover again, suddenly opened the door and went in.

A man, dressed in a scarlet cloak, furred with ermine, most magnificently decorated, was seated at a table where implements of writing were scattered about. His figure was half averted, as he leaned his elbow on the back of the chair on which he sat, while he covered his face with the other hand, like one plunged in meditation. Marie's terrified glance rested but for an instant on this stranger; for, as she detected a circle of gold passing round a sort of cap which he wore, her heart misgave her that she was in the presence of the usurping traitor himself.* The last of the retiring company was in the

It is probable that the coronets of the nobility, with the exception of those of the dukes, which are supposed by Du Cange to have been granted by Charles le Chauve, came into use not long before this period; for Selden proves, by a passage in Villehardouin, that in the year 1200 the Marquis of Montferrat, the Earl of Flanders, and various other counts, wore no crowns; while it is certain, from some inventories in the Chamber of Accounts at Paris, dated 1350, that they

act of disappearing by a door at the further end of the room, and as she saw, or rather fancied, a resemblance in his figure to that of her lover, she could not refrain in her sudden fear from calling out his name " Philip !"

"Who calls? Here am I!" said the diademed stranger, starting from the trance of care into which he appeared to be plunged; and as he turned round, he disclosed the features of Philip himself.

Marie's blood froze within her veins at the sight, a mist swam before her eyes, and she only prevented herself from falling by leaning with both hands upon the table towards which she had staggered. And thus Artaveld and his humble mistress gazed for many moments in silence into one another's faces. Minion," said Philip, haughtily, as at last he felt his eye sink beneath hers, "what would you with the Regent of Flanders?"

"Nothing-nothing with the regent!" answered Marie, in a faint and faltering voice. "I pray you pardon me-it was a mistake;" and she turned round, and with feeble steps walked towards the door.

Artaveld did not at once endeavour to prevent her from leaving the room. He sat, as if fixed to his chair by enchantment; and at that moment a pang passed through his heart, greater perhaps than any he had yet endured in his career of ambition.

When Marie, however, had nearly gained the door, she heard his swift steps behind her; and in another moment, passing his arm round her waist, he carried rather than led her back into the full blaze of the lights.

"Marie," he cried, dashing off his diademed cap, and flinging back his hair from his pale forehead, "Look, I am Philip ! were worn by the Count d'Eu. Du Cange notices various instances, occurring between the years 1340 and 1479, of simple gentlemen surmounting their helmets with coronets; and it was no doubt owing to this arrogation of their ancestors, that in process of time so many families without estates or dignities conceived that they possessed an hereditary right to the coronet, and therefore to the titles of marquis and count. Hence the numbers and poverty of the French nobility of later ages. The royal crowns of the French were at first merely diadems of gold, or strings of pearls, encircling the brow; and it was not till the time of Francis I. that the close crown came to be worn-an innovation supposed by Du Cange to have been partly in rivalry of the English princes, who had long worn such, and partly to distinguish the sovereign par excellence from the dukes, who wore the fillet diadem. Other writers, however, imagine that Francis set up an opposition crown against his enemy, Charles V. of Germany.

he whom you loved--he, or whose shoulder you have often leaned in the moonlight, when no sound was heard more earthly than the beating of his heart, as it throbbed against yours! I am he who stood by the grave of your mother, even as a sonhe whom the saints and the destinies have given to you for a husband! What would you more?"

"You are not Philip," replied Marie, her voice interrupted by those painful sobs which are unaccompanied by tears; "you are not the Philip whom I loved-the simple, gallant soldier whom I so dearly loved!—whose faults were the faults of circumstances-whose very crimes were not unlovely, being the effects of early prejudice, and a mistaken sense of duty. Why talk you of the destinies? Do you remember the last words of my mother? God would never permit, far less command, such a sacrilege? The false oracles to which you listen so devoutly, are the voices of the evil passions within you!" "These are the destinies !" cried Philip suddenly, and almost flinging her from his arms" these are the destinies!" and striding away, he smote his breast so fiercely, that the apartment rùng to the sound. When he approached her again the storm of passion had swept by, and his face was serene, and his manner coldly calm.

"Marie," said he, "this explanation has been somewhat sudden; but that is more your fault than mine. Had not your curiosity, or your fear, or whatever motive may have actuated you, led to the overthrow of my plans, the fate of Flanders and its regent would have been decided before you knew that the names you loved and hated were both borne by the same individual. And even then, indeed, it would have depended upon circumstances whether I would have permitted the dis covery to take place at all.

"Your having arrived so prematurely, however, at súch knowledge, does not alter the relations which subsists between us; neither does it alter my intentions with regard to you. Your promise was made to me neither as a chief, nor as a private soldier, but solely as a man; and I claim its fulfilment, at least thus far. You shall remain, as was determined, at my disposal, till after the decisive battle is over; nay, you shall aecompany me to the camp and hear with your own ears the shout that shall tell of triumph or defeat. Till then, my lips shall never address you but as a friend. If I am slain, you will lose a husband, and perhaps a master; if I am conqueror-'

"But if you lose, and yet be not slain ?" VOL. II.-7

"That may hardly be," replied Artaveld, smiling grimly. "But if it should be so ?"

66

Why, then, I shall be a private soldier again!"

I yield!" said Marie, suddenly; and her eyes sparkled through tears that rose into them for the first time during the interview.

That night she lay in a rich chamber, attended by a serving woman; but had not been able to compose her agitated mind to sleep, before she heard the tramp of horses and the roll of drums around the house, as the troops began to muster for their early march.

King Charles, in the mean time, had encamped on a plain near Rosebecque, where he awaited the approach of the Flemings. On the evening of Wednesday, he gave a supper to his three uncles, together with the constable of France, the Lord de Couci, and some other foreign lords from Brabant, Hainault, Holland, Zealand, Germany, Lorraine, and Savoy.* After the departure of the stranger guests, some conversation took place among the king, his uncles, and the constable of France, which shows in a striking manner the character borne by the last-mentioned personage, the celebrated Sir Oliver de Clisson, in the army. It had been arranged in the council, without his knowledge, that, for the better safeguard of the king's person, Sir Oliver should give up, for the day of the battle, his office of constable, which required his presence in the van, and remain behind with the royal staff. On this being communicated to him, the surprise and grief of the constable

were extreme.

"Most dear lord," he said, "I know that I never can be more highly honoured than in guarding your person; and I by no means pretend that the business in the van cannot be done without me yet, having myself drawn up the army, and instructed them in what manner to receive the foe, my absence at the moment of the shock may be attended with disastrous consequences. I therefore entreat of you, most dear lord, that you will not interfere with the prior arrangements, which were all made for the best; and in which, I do assure you, you will find your advantage."t

The boy-king was quite unprepared for reply to this address, and would only assure the constable that it was solely from the confidence he had in his valour and talents, that he wished to have him near his person; and when Sir Oliver again, in a

firm and manly manner, repeated his entreaties to be allowed to act as constable

"Be it so, then," said Charles 66 ; you know better than either I or my council what should be done. Away, Sir Constable, and act as you will, in the name of God and St. Denis !"*

On Thursday morning, it being well known from the reports of the foragers that the day could not pass without a battle, all the men-at-arms of the army-vanguard, rearguard, and king's battalion-armed themselves completely, excepting the helmet, which it was not customary to assume till just before engaging; and, mass being heard, scouts were sent out to reconnoitre the position of the enemy.

Artaveld was not far off. On the Wednesday evening he had taken up a very handsome position between the hill and the town of Rosebecque, where the king was quartered, having a ditch on one side, and a grove on the other, and in front a hedge of considerable strength. In the evening, he also had his official supper, as well as the king of France; and around the magnificent board were marshalled hearts not less stout and true than those which at the same moment honoured the tent of royalty.

"Sirs," said he, rising at the close of the entertainment, "before you return to your quarters, I would claim your attention for a moment. At no great distance, in front of our lines, there is a powerful enemy, with whom in the morning, by the permission of God, we are to engage in mortal fight. This enemy is no less a personage than the King of France, attended by the whole flower of the French nobility and chivalry. Sirs, in comparing the strength of two hostile parties, there are two points in which it must be considèred, one moral, and one physical. We must not only inquire what are their numbers, their arms, and their discipline, but what are the motives which lead them to the field-by what spirit they are actuated in the fight, and what are the recollections of shame or glory which elevate or cast down their souls.

"With regard to the material of our army, it is only necessary to say that we are in every respect the equals of the French. We are the same men who conquered at Bruges, and answered the cry of Flanders for the Lion!' with the nobler battle-word of Flanders for the People!' We are they, who, in midst of the hurrah of triumph, drank the healths of our ladies at Damme, in the wines of Poitou, Gascony, and

* Froissart,