lodge, and strictly guarded,
till some secure chamber could be prepared for him. On the way thither
Jocelyn contrived to approach him, and to say in a low tone--"Can I do
aught for Aveline?"

"Concern not yourself about her, _Sir_ Jocelyn," rejoined Hugh Calveley,
with stern contempt. "She is in a place of safety. You will never behold
her more."

CHAPTER XXII.

Wife and Mother-in-Law.

Quick steps descended the narrow staircase--steps so light and cautious
that they made no sound. Before drawing aside the arras that covered the
secret entrance to the chamber, the lady paused to listen; and hearing
nothing to alarm her, she softly raised a corner of the woof and looked
in.

What did she behold? A young man seated beside a carved oak table, with
his back towards her. He was reading a letter, the contents of which
seemed greatly to disturb him, for he more than once dashed it aside,
and then compelled himself to resume its perusal. No one else was in the
room, which was spacious and lofty, though somewhat sombre, being wholly
furnished with dark oak; while the walls were hung with ancient
tapestry. Heavy curtains were drawn before the deep bay windows,
increasing the gloom. The chamber was lighted by a brass lamp suspended
from the moulded ceiling, the ribs of which were painted, and the
bosses, at the intersections, gilded. Near the concealed entrance where
the lady stood was placed a large curiously-carved ebony cabinet,
against which leaned a suit of tilting armour and a lance; while on its
summit were laid a morion, a brigandine, greaves, gauntlets, and other
pieces of armour. On the right of the cabinet the tapestry was looped
aside, disclosing a short flight of steps, terminated by the door of an
anti-chamber.

Almost as the lady set foot within the room, which she did after a brief
deliberation, dropping the arras noiselessly behind her, the young man
arose. Her entrance had not been perceived, so violently was he
agitated. Crushing the letter which had excited him so much between his
fingers, and casting it furiously from him, he gave vent to an
incoherent expression of rage. Though naturally extremely handsome, his
features at this moment were so distorted by passion that they looked
almost hideous. In person he was slight and finely-formed; and the
richness of his attire proclaimed him of rank.

The lady who, unperceived, had witnessed his violent emotion was
remarkably beautiful. Her figure wa