D PILGRIM.

IT was long ere Walter Espec, struck down wounded and bleeding at
Mansourah, recovered possession of his faculties sufficiently to recall
the scenes through which he had passed or even to understand what was
taking place around him. As time passed over, however, consciousness
returned; and he one day became aware that he was stretched on a bed in
a chamber somewhat luxuriously furnished, and tended by a woman advanced
in years, who wore a gown of russet, and a wimple which gave her a
conventual appearance.

Walter raised his head, and was about to speak, when she suddenly left
the room, and the squire was left to guess, as he best might, where and
under whose care he was. He attempted to rise; but the effort was in
vain. He put his hand to his head; but he found that his long locks of
fair hair were gone. He tried to remember how he had got there; but, try
as he might, his memory would not bring him farther down the stream of
time, than the hour in which he fell at Mansourah. All the rest was a
blank or a feverish dream of being rowed on a river by Saracen boatmen,
and left at the portal of a house which he had never seen before.
Gradually recalling all his adventures since he left the castle of Wark,
he remembered and felt his hand for the amulet with which he had been
gifted by King Louis when at Cyprus. The ring was there, and as Walter
thought of the inscription he felt something like hope.

But Walter was still weak from loss of blood and the fever which had
been the consequence of wounds and exposure, and he soon sank into a
slumber. When he again awoke to consciousness the woman in russet was
standing near him, and conversing with a damsel whom Walter did not at
first see, but whose tones, sweet and soft, manifested a strong interest
in his recovery.

'He will yet live,' said the woman in russet, 'and rejoice we in it; for
he is a young man; and to such life must needs be dear.'

'He will live,' repeated the girl, 'and our lady be praised therefor;
for it is sweet to live.'

'In truth, noble demoiselle,' said the woman in russet, 'the youth owes
much to your solicitude; but for your anxiety on his behalf, I hardly
think he would have struggled through the fever. However, if you will
remain and watch him for a brief space, I will attend to the commands of
my lady the queen, and hasten to relieve you. Nay, it misbeseems not
noble maiden to tend a wounded warrior, especially a soldier of the
Cro