g evidently no phantoms, but as
substantial as those who beheld them; nay, the grisly ring began to
absorb the royal suite within itself, and an awe-stricken silence
prevailed--at least, where Malcolm Stewart and Ralf Percy were riding
together.

Neither lad durst ask the other what it meant. They thought they knew
too well. Percy ceased not for one moment to cross himself, and mutter
invocations to the saints; Malcolm's memory and tongue alike seemed inert
and paralyzed with horror--his brain was giddy, his eyes stretched open;
and when Death suddenly turned and darted in his direction, one horrible
gush of thought--'Fallen, fallen! Lost, lost! No confession!'--came
over him; he would have sobbed out an entreaty for mercy and for a
priest, but it became a helpless shriek; and while Percy's sword flashed
before his eyes, he felt himself falling, death-stricken, to the earth,
and knew no more.

'There--he moved,' said a voice above him.

'How now, Glenuskie?' cried Ralf Percy. 'Look up; I verily thought you
were sped by Death in bodily shape; but 'twas all an abominable grisly
pageant got up by some dismal caitiffs.'

'It was the Danse Macabre,' added the sweet tone that did indeed unclose
Malcolm's eyes, to see Esclairmonde bending over him, and holding wine to
his lips. Ralf raised him that he might swallow it, and looking round,
he saw that he was in a small wainscoted chamber, with an old burgher
woman, Ralf Percy, and Esclairmonde; certainly not in the other world. He
strove to ask 'what it meant,' and Esclairmonde spoke again:

'It is the Danse Macabre; I have seen it in Holland. It was invented as
a warning to those of sinful life, and this good woman tells me it has
become the custom to enact it every evening at this churchyard of the
Holy Innocents.'

'A custom I devoutly hope King Harry will break!' exclaimed Ralf. 'If
not, I'll some day find the way between those painted ribs of Monseigneur
de la Mort, I can tell him! I had nearly given him a taste of my sword
as it was, only some Gascon rogue caught my arm, and he was off ere I
could get free. So I jumped off, that your poor corpse should not be
trodden by French heels; and I hardly know how it was, but the Lady
Esclairmonde was by my side as I dragged you out, and caused these good
folks to let me bring you in behind their shop.'

'Lady, lady, I am for ever beholden,' cried Malcolm, gathering himself up
as if to fall at her feet, and his h