e very
heart.

"Lady," he said at last, "I should act foully against my honour did I
suffer you to think I have power in Scotland to afford you other
protection than that of the poor arm which is now by your side. Our
castle was stormed at midnight, and all were cut off that belonged to my
name. Even had the King of Scotland a desire to do me justice, he dared
not, for the sake of one poor individual, provoke a chief who rides with
five hundred horse."

"Alas!" said the Countess, "there is no corner of the world safe from
oppression! No more of Scotland, then; no more of Scotland!"

In the humour of mutual confidence, and forgetting the singularity of
their own situation, as well as the perils of the road, the travellers
pursued their journey for several hours.

The artificial distinction which divided the two lovers--for such we may
now term them--seemed dissolved by the circumstance in which they were
placed. For the present, the Countess was as poor as the youth, and for
her safety, honour, and life, she was exclusively indebted to his
presence of mind, valour, and devotion. They _spoke_ not, indeed, of
love, but the thoughts of it were on both sides unavoidable.

It was two hours after noon when a party of De la Marck's banditti
appeared, and shortly after a body of men-at-arms under a knight's
pennon. The former were soon put to rout by the superiority of the
latter, whose banner Countess Isabelle recognised as that of the Count
of Crevecoeur, a noble Burgundian.

"Noble Count!" said Isabelle, as Crevecoeur gazed on her with doubt and
uncertainty, "Isabelle of Croye, the daughter of your old companion in
arms, Count Reinold of Croye, renders herself, and asks protection from
your valour for her and hers."

"Thou shalt have it, fair kinswoman, were it against a host," said
Crevecoeur. "This is a rough welcome to your home, my pretty cousin, but
you and your foolish match-making aunt have made such wild use of your
wings of late, that I fear you must be contented to fold them up in a
cage for a little while. For my part, my duty will be ended when I have
conducted you to the court of the Duke, at Peronne."

_III.--A Prize for Honour_

The king had ventured, with a small company of his Scottish archers, to
be his own ambassador to his troublesome subject the Duke of Burgundy,
and Louis and Charles were together at Peronne when the news of the
revolt at Liege was brought to them by Crevecoeur, under whos