ristabelle.]

[Footnote 2: See p. 80. of vol. 1.]

CHAPTER XVI.

_Anton._ You do mistake me, Sir.
_Off._ No, Sir, no jot: I know your favor well,
Though now you have no sea-cap on your head:
Take him away; he knows I know him well.
_Twelfth Night_--Act 3.

Apprehended as a great state-criminal, Bertram had been committed to
the safekeeping of Walladmor Castle as the only place in the county
strong enough to resist the attempts for his deliverance which were
anticipated from the numerous smugglers on the coast.--As regarded his
personal comfort however, and putting out of view the chances of any
such violent liberation, this arrangement was one on which a prisoner
had reason to congratulate himself. For Sir Morgan Walladmor would not
allow that any person within his gates should be inhospitably treated:
and, with the exception of his shackles, Bertram now found himself
more comfortably lodged in his prison than he had been for some time
before. He flung himself into bed, and was soon asleep. But the fury
of the wind about this exposed rock, and the fury of the sea at its
base,--with his own agitation of mind and body,--frequently awoke him.
As often he fell asleep again; and continually dreamed of the fields of
Germany and the friends whom he had left there. Sometimes he was
betrayed into imminent peril--sometimes into battle--sometimes into
flight: now he saw hands stretched forth from thick vapours to help
him; and again he saw the countenances of familiar friends turned upon
him with altered looks and glaring with mysterious revenge. Then came
running from the depth of forests a dear companion of his youth with a
coronet of flowers who smiled as in former times: but suddenly he shook
his head and vanished. The forests also vanished; and the flowers
perished: and he found himself on board the Fleurs-de-lys, with Captain
le Hamois by his side, fleeting over endless seas--and seeking in vain
for an anchor. He was on board the ship, and yet was not; but saw it
from a distance: and in this perplexity the Fleurs-de-lys changed into
a judgment-seat; and an orator was before it--pleading in some unknown
tongue against himself, and bringing to light many a secret crime that
had lain buried under a weight of years----

Confusion, struggle, shame, and woe:
Things to be hid that were not hid;