arranged, and each will then be free to follow all his own. In the mean time, this frantic expedition from England gives me little concern. My faithful friends in Zealand and Holland will soon check the invasion, and my troops from Flanders under John Uterken-"

"Are already opposed to the enemy," said Vrank, who knew well how to interpose a well-timed interruption even to his sovereign.

"Good!" cried Philip, his blue eyes sparkling with joy at the ready intelligence, "and we shall soon ourselves confront the danger!—And now let us result to your Friesland mission, Sir Francon."

"All promises well, may it please your highness. Radbolt of Ils, and Haron of Bolswart, the leading chiefs, have sworn fidelity and prompt succour to your cause

"Enough then! Let Glocester stand on his guard !you may retire, Sir Francon-we will give you private audience to-morrow, and hear minute details."

No sooner had Vrank obeyed this intimation, than Philip once more enjoined secrecy, and forbade all outward evidence of dissension between his brothers-in law; and the princes soon separated to follow up the various amusements traced out for the day, with the smoothest looks, and the least agitated thoughts they could command.

Vrank took immediate measures for repose and refreshment after his rapid journey, and did not make his public appearance until the night had fairly set in. Then, more from duty than from actual inclination-for recollection of the Zevenvolden had produced a magic change in the temperament which formerly urged him into the vortex of pleasure he joined the dancers in the ball-room. A certain feeling of vanity also prompted him to show how little he valued the fatigues of three days and nights' travel. And he never excited more admiration than he did on this occasion, by the union of grace, elegance, and gallantry, with an air of solid sense that was pre-eminently his own.

CHAPTER XX.

THE combat for life and death between Jacotin Plouvier and Nicholas Mavot was the subject of universal curiosity, and a species of wild interest, to almost every individual in the town and castle of Hesdin. It was fixed for the hour of noon on the day following the scenes we have just described. Long before that hour the lists had been prepared in the market-place of the town, fronting the site where the Hotel de Ville was subsequently erected, by Sebastian Oya, architect to the Emperor Charles V. The place where that edifice now stands was on this occasion occupied by a covered wooden pavilion hastily erected for the accommodation of Duke Philip and the princes his guests, with some others adjoining, for the courtiers and officers of the household. These "stands," as we familiarly call such erections, were hung with cloth of various colours, filled up with as much care as could be given on such short preparation. But neither the time nor the occasion allowed or warranted any approach to such magnificence of decoration as was displayed in honour of the jousts and tournaments, on which the scene about to be enacted was a farce, and to modern notions a disgusting parody. But the immense crowds, collected from the towns and villages for leagues around, who had heard of the affair during the night, now filled the wide area of the market-place with a lively exhibition of human anxiety, in a matter that involved excitements a thousand times greater than the most elegant display of chivalry. And there was something desperately awful in the absence of every thing imposing, and the presence of all that was impressive, in the preparations for the deadly conflict. The coarsely constructed arena was thick-strewn with sand; the palings that surrounded it were rough and rude; two chairs covered with black cloth were placed at either end; the huts outside the lists which contained the almost savage men were of the commonest materials, little better than sties for swine; while opposite the duke's pavilion was a high gibbet, from

which a rope dangled down; and a dark-visaged hangman stood beneath, holding the noose in his impatient hand.

Just as the clock of St. Mary's church struck out the deep-sounding notice of noon, the trumpets of Duke Philip announced his entrance into the tower; and in a few minutes he and his suite of friends and followers took the various places assigned for them. No parade of majesty beyond the official troop of attendants accompanied Philip on this occasion. He came in the mere character of a spectator, and the solemnity of his black suit and the stern calmness of his look, in which he seemed the model for all those around him, harmonized well with the awful feelings of the crowd. No ladies appeared in the pavilion. Their absence was occasioned, not by the ferocity, but by the vulgarity of the expected exhibition. Had it been gentlemen that were to fight, and noble blood that was to flow, the tender dames of the fifteenth century had not shrunk from, but would have anxiously thronged to the scene. But the total want of every thing softening or graceful left the spectators to the uncurbed exposure of man's natural fierceness.

The provost of the town, Mercio du Gardin, and Messire Gilles de Harchies, a gentleman appointed for the day to the same office on the part of the duke, acted as judges, and took their station in a balcony close to the lists. At a signal from Philip that he was ready, a bell was rung, for the combatants were not honoured with a flourish of trumpets, and the doors of the huts were simultaneously opened and the men led to their respective chairs. Mavot looked wild and haggard, his adversary determined and fierce but the countenances of both were stamped with the air of desperation, natural to men on the point of a struggle which must end in the death of one or the other.

The whole appearance of these men had something frightfully ludicrous, and the crowd on seeing them could not resist a murmur of laughter, which rose above the exclamation of horror that mingled with it. For a tight dress of leather enveloped each, showing the form of limbs and body with the accuracy of complete nudity; their feet were naked, their nails cut close, and their heads shaved. They stared on each other with an expression of mutual surprise and disgust; and recollecting that each was a resemblance

of the other they simultaneously started back, as if they would shrink from the reflection of their own disfigurement. They sat down on the chairs and waited the progress of the ceremony, while the provosts raised their truncheons and called out to the indecorous crowd with a loud voice, "Guare le Ban!" a technical warning of magical effect, for it produced an instant silence among the people, who dreaded the punishment that was sure to follow an infraction of the order it implied.

Some of the corporate officers now entered, with attendants bearing various matters. Two of them placed in the hand of each champion a bannerol of devotion emblematic of their respective saints; and a functionary, holding a large illuminated mass-book with silver clasps, proposed the customary oaths, with true official indifference to the perjury which one or the other of necessity committed. Mavot swore that he killed his enemy fairly; and Plouvier swore that he did the deed foully. The impatience of the spectators was quickly relieved by the more decisive tokens of the approaching combat. To each of the men was now handed a triangular wooden shield painted red, the apex of which they were obliged to hold upwards, instead of bearing it in the more natural and efficient manner common to knights and soldiers. Then the bannerols were replaced by two maple sticks of equal length and weight, and each a most deadly weapon in the grasp of a desperate man. The chairs were removed outside the lists; and the final ceremony of preparation took place.

This was of a nature to call forth the exercise of all the provost's authority to repress the laughter of the crowd. and to put to a severe test the decorum of the better mannered spectators. Close beside each champion was placed a copper vessel filled with grease; and a groom scizing each with one arm immediately fell to work to smear him over in every part with the slippery unction, so as to make it quite impossible that either could catch hold of his adversary with any chance of retaining him for an instant.

Next was brought forward two basins of ashes, in which each man carefully plunged his hands and rubbed them well, removing the grease and allowing a steady grasp of shields and cudgels. And then was put into the mouths of both, coarse sugar, to refresh them in the course of the com..

bat, keep them in wind, and afford a supply of saliva-for such were the supposed qualities of the remedy.

The attendants now retired; and one of the provosts standing up in his balcony, flung down a glove into the arena and cried loudly—

"Let each man do his duty!"

A rush forward towards the paling, which bent Inwards with the pressure of the throng, straining, jumping, pushing and squeezing, and causing, consequently, a general disappointment to individual efforts, proved the anxiety of the people to witness the first assault. It instantly took place; Plouvier, who was strong and athletic, rushed forward with the vigour of a wild beast bounding on its prey. It seemed as if the next moment must have decided the fate of the short and crooked, but still active being to whom he was opposed; and had Mavot waited the attack such had no doubt been the result. But as Plouvier came close to him and raised his arm to strike, he shifted his cudgel into his left hand, held up his shield, and, stooping down, seized a fist full of sand, which he dexterously flung full into his enemy's face. Shouts of applause and laughter burst from the people at this unheroic stratagem, and were loudly renewed as Plouvier strove to rub the sand from his eyes, while Mavot plied him with fresh showers of the subtle missive, and accompanied every discharge with a stroke on the legs, which made the other caper about in a double dance of pain and rage, alternately stooping his hand to rub his shins, or raising it to relieve his eyes.

Plouvier dealt round furious blows at random, but enough to keep aloof a bolder assailant than his; and by degrees he freed his eyes from the sand. Then measuring

the distance between him and his prey, he darted forward and attempted to seize Mavot by the arm. But the greasy member slipped through his hold, and several similar efforts met the same result, the crooked man twisting and twining away with most ludicrous attitudes of active deformity. Plouvier gasped for breath, and dashed the foam from his mouth; while Mavot, seizing the opportunity of his exhaustion, aimed one blow at his stooping head, with such sure effect that the blood spouted from his brow and