who I admit to my
chamber?"--"None," replied the maiden.

"And what does he bear by way of distinguishing himself? What crest or
device doth he bear?"--"Merely a green shield."

"The unsuccessful knight in the tournament to-day. Heaven's! what can he
desire with me; he is not--no, no, it cannot be--it cannot be."--"Will
you admit him, lady?"

"Indeed, I know not what to do; but yet he may have some intelligence to
give me. Yes, yes, admit him; but first throw some logs on the fire."

The attendant did as she was desired, and then quitted the room for the
purpose of admitting the stranger knight with the green shield. In a few
moments she could hear the stride of the knight as he entered the
apartment, and she thought the step was familiar to her ear--she thought
it was the step of Sir Arthur Home, her lover. She waited anxiously to
see the door open, and then the stranger entered. His form and bearing
was that of her lover, but his visor was down, and she was unable to
distinguish the features of the stranger.

His armour was such as had seen many a day's hard wear, and there were
plenty of marks of the battle about him. His travel-worn accoutrements
were altogether such as bespoke service in the field.

"Sir, you desired to see me; say wherefore you do so, and if it is news
you bring." The knight answered not, but pointed to the female
attendant, as if he desired she would withdraw. "You may retire," said
Bertha; "be within call, and let me know if I am threatened with
interruption."

The attendant retired, and then the knight and lady were left alone. The
former seemed at a loss how to break silence for some moments, and then
he said,--

"Lady ----"--"Oh, Heavens! 'tis he!" exclaimed Bertha, as she sprang to
her feet; "it is Sir Arthur Home!"

"It is," exclaimed the knight, pulling up his visor, and dropping on one
knee he encircled his arm round the waist of the lady, and at the same
moment he pressed her lips to his own.

The first emotion of joy and surprise over, Bertha checked her
transports, and chid the knight for his boldness.

"Nay, chide me not, dear Bertha; lam what I was when I left you, and
hope to find you the same."

"Am I not?" said Bertha.--"Truly I know not, for you seem more beautiful
than you were then; I hope that is the only change."

"If there be a change, it is only such as you see. Sorrow and regret
form the principal causes."--"I understand you."

"My intended nuptials ----"