the pace with which they had hurried through the passage, unless they could discover any advantage in being there long before him, and that they would find Sir Henry Lingen's page with the palfrey, soon after getting clear of the cavern. The sentinel then unclosed the trap-door, when Clifford and Alice found themselves in a thick wood, which they had entered from the hollow of an enormous oak, in the bottom of which was the trap-door, which had just closed behind them.

By certain marks carved on the bark of the trees, with which Lingen had made him acquainted, Clifford tracked his way through this otherwise pathless forest, and at length found himself at its outskirts. Here he perceived the palfrey held by a young man, who, as soon as he saw them, made eager signs to them to quicken their pace.

"Ye have been long coming, Sir, as though this were a time. to toy with a fair lady, when Birch reckons your blood as already red upon his weapon. I set out long after you, and took a much more circuitous route through the windings of the secret passages, for my steed would find the road which you have come but a sorry one, and yet I am here before you."

"That tedious fool, Simpson, delayed us; but let us lose no more time in words."

Clifford and the page assisted Alice to mount the saddle; the former got up before her; and then, after waving his hand to the page, who immediately disappeared in the thickest of the forest, he plunged his spurs into the courser's side, and made the best of his way towards the ferry.

The day had changed from fine to stormy; and the rain, of which they had not felt much while in the forest, was now pouring in torrents; while the swollen Wye, whose banks they were traversing, was foaming furiously as they passed. They had not proceeded far before they were alarmed by the appearance of an armed horseman, who occupied the centre of the road before them. Although he seemed startled and chagrined to see them, he advanced rapidly towards them, while applying a bugle to his mouth, he made the valley ring with its echoes.

"Curse on ye! are ye here so soon, and my tardy villains not arrived ?—but this right arm will suffice to do the work.”

Thus saying, while with one hand he again applied the bugle to his mouth, with the other, which held his weapon, he made a furious lunge at Clifford, who, however, parried the blow, and retreated a few paces.

"Captain Birch," he said, (for he soon recognised his rival,) "is this honourable, like a highwayman to waylay me, or courteous to assault me while protecting a lady?"

"Talk ye of honour, coward! who are deserting your comrades in their last extremity, and flying from the consequences of your own challenge?-die!"

While uttering these words, he renewed his attack yet more furiously; and rage, as well as the necessity for self-defence, gave redoubled vigour to Clifford. With one arm twined round the almost lifeless form of Alice, and with the other aiming at the heart of Birch, he waged for a long time a very unequal combat. The horse of the latter, however, stumbling, precipitated its rider to the ground. Clifford was on the point of generously waiving this advantage, and dismounting; but his adversary, with the speed of lightning, recovered his legs; then foaming with fury and covered with mire, he advanced, and would have sheathed his sword in the bowels of Clifford's horse. Clifford, perceiving his object, struck him a deadly blow on the head, which cut through his helmet, and made a deep incision on his temple. The unhappy man uttered a dreadful groan, and fell lifeless to the earth.

Clifford, gasping for breath, and covered with the blood both of his opponent and himself, perceived, nevertheless, the necessity for immediately resuming his journey. The consciousness of this necessity also operated upon the weak frame and shattered spirits of Alice more effectually than the utmost skill or care could possibly have done, and they were both speedily remounted, and on their way to the ferry. Clifford now began to doubt the fidelity of Simpson, and to suspect that his hesitation and delay had their origin in a cause less venial than the cravings of his stomach. It was evident that Birch expected them, and that, had they been

much later, they would not have encountered him alone. Still the long-tried fidelity of Simpson, who had been the confidential servant both of his uncle and Sir Hugh Stanton, and who had fought gallantly with the former at Edgehill and Marston, rendered it very difficult to suspect him of treachery.

These thoughts agitated the mind of Clifford, and kept him in a very torturing state of uncertainty, while he impelled his jaded steed towards the ferry. When arrived there, his heart sunk within him at beholding nought but the foaming Wye lashed into fury by the wind, and swollen by the excessive rains, without any trace either of Simpson or his boat.

"Alice," he said, "the Fates make war against us. There is no peace or safety here. The headsman's block will be my portion, and the dungeons of Goodrich or Chepstow will be yours." "We shall find peace, if not safety, Clifford," returned Alice, “in the bed of yonder Wye."

Clifford grasped her hand fervently. "Nay, one chance remains for us yet. Our steed may bear us to the opposite bank, and then let Birch and his myrmidons howl over their disappointed malignity. But hark! I hear Simpson's voice."

The trampling of horses was indeed heard, and Simpson's voice enforcing the necessity of speed. A light broke on the faces of Clifford and Alice as they turned round to hail their deliverer; but it was changed to the blackness of despair when they saw, at the distance of about fifty yards from them, Simpson and Colonel Birch riding abreast of each other, and followed by six horsemen. Clifford plunged his spurs into his courser's flanks, and impelled him to the water's edge. The horse, however, terrified at the appearance of the foaming river, reared and backed, and had nearly thrown his rider. A yell of savage exultation burst from the lips of Birch, who was now within hearing; but what was his astonishment at seeing the lovers dismount, and after tenderly embracing each other, disappear in the foaming torrent. Once the mounting wave raised them on its bosom towards the skiesthen subsided and closed over them for ever!

That evening, 31st July, Goodrich Castle surrendered, and only

four barrrels of powder were found left. The lives of Sir Henry Lingen and his officers and soldiers were guaranteed to them; but they were all declared prisoners of war, to be at Colonel Birch's disposal.

It is said that to this day the spirit of Alice and Clifford haunt the ruined towers of Goodrich, and are heard in every storm, shrieking on the swollen waters of the Wye. The vicinity of the fatal spot is carefully shunned on the anniversary of their catastrophe; and a peasant more hardy than his comrades, who once ventured there on that day, is reported to have seen a horseman, with a female behind him, vainly urging his steed to cross the river. The terrified spectator hastened home to his companions, and the tale which he told heightened and confirmed the religious awe with which that spot has been ever since regarded, and which has kept it sacred from the intrusions of mortal footsteps on the day in question.

3 Legend of Pontefract.

Come mourn, come mourn for me,
You loyal lovers all,

Lament my loss in weedes of woe

Whom griping griefe doth thrall.

THE BRIDE'S BURIAL.

W

HEN the war between the Royalists and the Parliamentarians had been brought to an end, by the subjection of all places and persons that had held for the King, and when the hopes of the partisans of the latter had been rendered desperate by his imprisonment in the Isle of Wight, those officers and gentlemen who had served under his banners, while there was any service to perform, betook themselves generally to their habitations, in the several counties, where they lived quietly and privately, unmolested by the prevailing party. When the Parliament had finished the war, they reduced and slighted the inland garrisons, the maintenance of which was very costly; yet by the influence of some persons interested, or in consideration of the strength and importance of the place, they still kept a garrison in Pontefract Castle, a noble Royalty and palace belonging to the Crown, and then part of the Queen's jointure. The situation in itself was very strong, no part being commanded by any other ground; the mansion very large, with all offices suitable to a princely seat; and though built very near the top of a hill, so that it had the prospect of a great part of the West Riding of Yorkshire, and of Lincolnshire and Nottinghamshire, yet it was