sensation of gratitude arise in his mind, at having been providentially saved from plunged into it.

His pains increased, but still the roar of nature's discord gave him no opportunity to call for assistance, and he was also unacquainted whether his cries were likely to bring him help; for as this lake was situated at a distance from the high road, it was a long time since he had visited it, and he was quite ignorant whether there were any cottages in its neighbourhood. One only assurance gave him comfort; this was, that his attendants would beyond all doubt call numbers to their aid, and not relax in their search till they had found him.

Thus passed full an hour, and patience urged by pain, began to lose its virtue. He called aloud for help, and the thunder, which was now receding in hollow murmers to the distant mountains, left spaces of silence for his cries. The lightning also was now but a faint shadow of its former fierceness, and the stars were beginning to start from the cleared sky, whose fullness had before impeded their appearance; by the faint light which they gave, he discovered something like a habitation at some distance from him, and imagined that he could perceive the faint gleam of a lamp within it, the apparent dimness of which seemed to be accounted for by its being placed at a great distance from the casement.

Again and again he called, the light glided nearer to the window, and then vanished. He called again with all the strength he could exert; the door of

the cottage was opened, and a figure appeared at it with a lamp in its hand. The figure paused, as if uncertain whether it had been deceived, or had really heard a voice. Lord William repeated his entreaties for assistance, and the figure, which he quickly saw to be that of a man, advanced towards him.

In few words, the baron explained to him his name, and the accident that had befallen him, entreating his care and humanity till he could be conveyed to his own mansion.

The stranger was a man of about fifty-five years of age, of an open and interesting countenance; his dress was that of a shepherd, but his manners were those of higher birth; he looked with the utmost compassion on lord William, and still forbore to reply, to his request, or to give him help.

"Will you not serve me?-have you no pity for my sufferings?" asked the baron.

"Shall I go instantly to your castle, and bring some of your vassals hither?" asked the stranger.

"The distance is four miles," replied lord William," and should you leave me here, to go upon that errand, wounded as I am, I may perish in the damps of the night."

"I hope not," returned the stranger: "Heaven avert it !"

"Cannot you take me into your cottage ?" asked the baron: "you look compassionate, but you

act

66

I am not strong enough," interrupted the man,

"to bear you to my cottage alone; and you cannot lend yourself the least assistance with your limb thus disabled."

"Is there no one but yourself in the cottage ?" inquired lord William.

I'll bring you something to comfort you," said the stranger hastily, after a short pause, which appeared to convey a doubt how to answer, and was moving away.

Oh, for Heaven's sake, do not leave me thus !" exclaimed de Mowbray ; "I will reward you liberally if you will procure assistance to carry me from the wet ground to shelter."

"I never was paid in my life for an act of humanity," returned the man; but I can do no more than I can."

"Can no assistance be procured ?-is yours the only cottage?" asked lord William.

"The only one within two miles," was the

answer.

"And you are quite alone in it?"

"If I were to bring a boy of eight years old to help me, I don't believe we together could lift you

"If If you have only such a boy in your cottage, pray make the attempt," returned lord William ; you know not what I am suffering."

"Nor do you know now much I suffer," returned the man; "It is very contrary to my nature to hesitate about serving my fellow creatures." He paused again; then added-" However unwillingly,

I must leave you here a few minutes; but, by my soul! I will return to you as speedily as I can ;" and so saying, he moved hastily towards the cottage.

Lord William followed him with his eyes; he saw him enter the cottage, and having for a moment lost sight of the lamp, it again appeared in an upper apartment; here it remained visible for at least ten minutes, and then again it vanished, and was quickly seen below advancing towards the door : the stranger came out first, the lamp still in his hand, and close upon his heels trod another man, wrapped in a long cloak; the latter continued standing in the door way, and the man who had before been with lord William came again to him.

"Lord william," he said, "if I consent to introduce you at this moment into my cottage, will you swear to me, that whatever you may see within it, or whomsoever you may see in it, you will never disclose having seen to the world? These are the only terms upon which you can enter it."

The demand was strange, but the torture of the baron's head and leg was such as urged him to any promise for the barter of friendly assistance, and he swore to comply with the stranger's requuest.

"I have one more condition," said the man, "that you will suffer me to tie this bandage before your eyes, which shall be taken off the moment you are placed on a bed in my cottage: if you consent to this, a word from me will bring the person whom you see yonder to my assistance in carrying

you to the cottage, and you shall be treated there with every tenderness due to your sufferings; but if you attempt to remove it, that moment, heedless of your wounded state, we drop you upon the ground, and further calls upon our assistance are in vain."

De Mowbray would probably have complied again, had not distant lights, and voices calling loudly on his name, turned his attention from the terms to which he had been on the point of agreeing; and he replied to them with all his strength, while the stranger by his side exclaimed, in accents that seemed to proceed from the bottom of his heart "Are these your lordship's attendants?-Heaven be praised that they are at hand!”

Immediately on the sound of voices, the man who stood in the doorway of the cottage disappeared, and the door was closed. In a few moments, lord William's attendants were by his side, and the stranger explained to them the mangled state in which their master lay.

The two men who had been separated from De Mowbray in the tempest, having in vain sought him in the wood till nightfall had put a period to their search, dreading that some fatal accident had befallen him, had proceeded to the village, which was little more than a mile from the spot where the ball of fire had fallen; and having here collected together a number of the peasantry, to whom they related their fears for their lord's safety, had returned

G