eave a level
and firm place for the list, and the black spots to point out the
places where had glowed the fires, Harleston remarked in his low and
musing voice:--

"Verily, yon place doth represent the lives of men."

"How so?" I asked.

"Records of our deeds are imprinted in the sand. If a storm doth arise
to-night, all the little mounds that indicate some noble courses run
shall be levelled, and a traveller passing there to-morrow will notice
nothing but a barren strip, with nowhere on its face a mark to tell of
glorious deeds performed."

The thought of this was sad, and yet 'twas true; as are the most of
gloomy thoughts. It is for this same reason that I ever try to turn my
mind's eye to the pleasures and the joys of life, the which are far
from few. I therefore, on this occasion, turned from the contemplation
of this dreary sight to the scene that should await me when, that
evening, I would go unto the Sanctuary; for such was mine intent. I
could picture, in my mind's eye, my fair Hazel waiting and watching
with the agony of expectation for me; wondering if I ever should return
from that sport which she so much disliked on account of its
"inhumanity," as she had said.

I wondered if Harleston's mind were not drawing the same picture. Had
he yet asked Mary to be his wife? I believed he had; for the day
before we rode forth to the tournament, when we had visited the girls,
Hazel had let drop a remark that did arouse my suspicions; and when I
questioned her upon the point she laughingly informed me of the fact
that I was "too inquisitive," the which I doubt not. And try as I
would I could get nothing more from her. I had not liked to ask
Harleston; for there seems to be a something, the name of which I know
not, that ever doth keep us from mentioning this subject to one which
we believe to be in love, unless they first do bring it up.

By this time we had almost reached the Palace of King Richard.

Loud cheered the people as the King rode along the crowd-lined streets
and scattered gold among them with a lavish hand.

"God save King Richard!" rang out on every side.

I had as soon cried:--"God save the devil!"

The broken-headed Catesby rode beside the King. The two seemed to be
conversing as we reached Crosby Place.

"Not favourable to me," said I in Harleston's ear, as I nodded in the
direction of the hump-backed King and his adviser.

My friend did not reply, in words; but he shook his head