tep her seven strong
brothers took along the road.

The stepmother had no tears to shed. Indeed she had no time to
weep, for she must keep strict watch over the dead maiden's seven
sisters, lest they too grew ill and thus escaped her power.

As for the poor old father, he shut himself up alone to grieve
for his dear lost child.

When the seven brothers reached the first church, they remembered
their father's promise to their sister. They set down the bier
and waited, that a mass might be sung for the lady's soul.

Then on again they journeyed until before them they saw another
church.

'Here will we rest until the bell has been tolled,' they said,
and again the bier was placed in the holy church.

'We will come to St. Mary's ere we tarry again,' said the seven
brothers, and there they knew that their journey would be over.
Yet little did they know in how strange a way it would end.

Slow and careful were the brothers' steps as they drew near to
the church of St. Mary, slow and sad, for there they must part
from their beautiful pale sister.

The chime of the silver bells floated on the still air, dulling
the sound of the seven strong brothers' footsteps.

They were close to St. Mary's now, and as they laid the bier down
the brothers started, for out of the shadows crept tall armed
men, and in their midst stood Lord William. He had come as he had
been bidden to meet his bride. The brothers knew him well, the
lord from the cold grey country, who had stolen the heart of
their beautiful sister.

'Stand back,' commanded Lord William, and his voice was stern,
for not thus had he thought to meet the lady he loved. 'Stand
back and let me look once more upon the face of my own true
love.'

Then the seven brothers, though they had but little goodwill for
the northern lord, lifted the bier and laid it at his feet, that
once again he might look upon the face of their pale cold sister.

And lo! as Lord William took the hand, the cold white hand, of
his true love in his own, it grew warm, as his lips touched hers
they grew rosy, and the colour crept into her cheeks. Ere long
she lay smiling back at her own true love with cheeks that
bloomed and eyes that shone. The power of the sleeping draught
was over.

'Give me bread, dear lord,' cried the lady, 'for no food have I
tasted for three long days and nights, and this have I done that
I might come to you, my own true love.'

When the lady had eaten she turned to her