ting back to Elvas, as he had come from it, he rode slowly on,
sometimes lost in thought, at times gazing on the scene around him.
Many objects along the road brought vividly back to him the incidents
of that pleasant excursion, so lately taken in company with Lady
Mabel. Here she had turned her horse aside for a moment, to pluck some
blossoms from this carob-tree, which stands alone on the sandy plain
around it; here, on the bank of the Cayo, was the spot where she had
pressed so close up beside him for protection, in the dark, on the
first alarm of danger before them; there stood the old watch-tower,
which they had examined together with interest, speculating on its
history, lost in by-gone ages; crossing the stream here, further on,
were the prints of her horses hoofs on the steep, pebbly bank, as she
had turned suddenly from the road, to ride up to the mysterious old
ruin.

Were these pleasant days over? L'Isle knew that Lord Strathern had
taken violent, perhaps lasting offence at his strictures; and he
himself was too indignant at the summary way in which his commander
had cut short his protest, and dismissed him and the subject, for him
to make any conciliatory advances. Knowing, too, Lady Mabel's devotion
to her father, and her tenacity where his character and dignity were
concerned, there was no saying how much she might resent L'Isle's
offence, when it came to her knowledge. He could hardly, just now at
least, frequent headquarters on his former footing.

He was so much engrossed by these unpleasant thoughts, that it was in
vain officious Tom several times rode up close upon him, making his
own horse curvet and caper, hoping to attract his master's attention,
and remind him that he was loitering on the road long after his dinner
hour. L'Isle went on at a foot-pace up the hill of Elvas, until, from
a neighboring hedge, a nightingale, for whose ditty the hours of
darkness were too short, began his plaintive song. Many a time had
L'Isle paused to listen to such minstrelsey; but now his ear, or
something else, was out of tune:

"Except I be with Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale."

Rousing himself, he cantered through the gate, and hastened to his
quarters.

Now, it was some time since L'Isle's servants had picked up the
notion, that in no way could they please him half so well as by
obeying the slightest hint from Lady Mabel. So his man came promptly
out, armed with her note, an