candinavian superstition, and bending slightly forward
as in the attitude of listening or expectation. Long before any form
appeared on the road below she seemed to be aware of coming footsteps,
and probably her habits of life had sharpened her senses; for she smiled,
muttered to herself, "Ere it sets!" and changing her posture, leant her
arm on the altar, and rested her face upon her hand.

At length, two figures came up the road; they neared the hill; they saw
her, and slowly ascended the knoll. The one was dressed in the serge of
a pilgrim, and his cowl thrown back, showed the face where human beauty
and human power lay ravaged and ruined by human passions. He upon whom
the pilgrim lightly leaned was attired simply, without the brooch or
bracelet common to thegns of high degree, yet his port was that of
majesty, and his brow that of mild command. A greater contrast could not
be conceived than that between these two men, yet united by a family
likeness. For the countenance of the last described was, though
sorrowful at that moment, and indeed habitually not without a certain
melancholy, wonderfully imposing from its calm and sweetness. There, no
devouring passions had left the cloud or ploughed the line; but all the
smooth loveliness of youth took dignity from the conscious resolve of
men. The long hair, of a fair brown, with a slight tinge of gold, as the
last sunbeams shot through its luxuriance, was parted from the temples,
and fell in large waves half way to the shoulder. The eyebrows, darker
in hue, arched and finely traced; the straight features, not less manly
than the Norman, but less strongly marked: the cheek, hardy with exercise
and exposure, yet still retaining somewhat of youthful bloom under the
pale bronze of its sunburnt surface: the form tall, not gigantic, and
vigorous rather from perfect proportion and athletic habits than from
breadth and bulk--were all singularly characteristic of the Saxon beauty
in its highest and purest type. But what chiefly distinguished this
personage, was that peculiar dignity, so simple, so sedate, which no pomp
seems to dazzle, no danger to disturb; and which perhaps arises from a
strong sense of self-dependence, and is connected with self-respect--a
dignity common to the Indian and the Arab, and rare except in that state
of society in which each man is a power in himself. The Latin tragic
poet touches close upon that sentiment in the fine lines--

"Rex est q