mid
heavens; then such tints of transparent opal and heavenly azure
overspread the skies all around, that Martin drank in the beauty
with all his soul, and almost wept for joy, as he thought it a
foretaste of the new heavens and the new earth, wherein he hoped to
dwell, and whereon his heart was already surely fixed. And as he
gazed upon the distant woods, wherein dwelt the kindred he came to
seek, he prayed in the words of an old antiphon:

"O Day Spring, brightness of the Eternal Light and Sun of
Righteousness, come and lighten those that sit in darkness, and in
the shadow of death."

Chapter 17: The Castle Of Fievrault.

It was the province of Auvergne in France. Through the forest, deep
and gloomy, rode our Hubert and his squire, with the six
men-at-arms, a few days after their departure from England. They
had gained the soil of France, and had found the town in Auvergne
which bore the name of the De Fievrault family, and early in the
following morning they started for the old chateau, which they were
forewarned they would find in ruins, to seek the fated sword.

It was added that the place was haunted, and that they would do
well to return before nightfall.

The road which led thither was evidently but seldom trodden. It
abounded in sunken ruts, wherein lurked the adder. It led by sullen
pools, where the bittern boomed and the pike swam, his silver side
glittering like a streak of light beneath the dark surface, as he
sought his finny prey. Now it was marshy and muddy, now it was
tangled with thorns, now impeded by fallen trees. So thick was the
verdure that the sky could not often be seen.

"I should be sorry, Almeric," said the young knight to his squire,
"to traverse this route by night. Yet unless we make better use of
our legs it will happen to us to have the choice either of
encountering the wolves of the forest or the phantoms of the
castle."

"Are not those the towers?" said the young squire, pointing to some
extinguisher-like turrets which just then came in sight.

"Verily they be, and if we make haste we may reach them by
noontide."

But between them and the object of their journey lay a deep fosse
or moat, and the rusty drawbridge was suspended by its chains to
the walls of the towers.

"Blow thine horn, Almeric."

It was long blown in vain, but at length an old man in squalid
attire, with long dishevelled gray locks and matted beard, appeared
at the window of the watch tower abov