saw two females; one appeared, by her figure (for her face was obscured from view, owing to her position), to be quite young; the other had reached a more advanced period of life. That which astonished him the most was, to perceive that their dresses were of the European fashion. He looked again, and saw that the younger of the ladies was in tears, and that the other was consoling her. This was enough to Iouse a less sensitive person than the Crusader. He descended the wall rapidly; and, approaching them, soon quieted the alarm which his sudden appearance had created, by explaining his name and rank, and offering his services to remove the cause of the lady's grief.

In some situations a few words suffice to inspire mutual confidence. The elder of the ladies explained to Sir Stephen that she was the attendant of the other, who was the daughter of Sir Baldwin de Courtenay, a celebrated leader, who had died soon after the first arrival of the Crusaders. He had, however, previously formed an union with an Armenian Christian, by whom he had the Lady Violetta. Soon after the birth of this child he had died, and the brother of his wife had taken charge of the poor lady and her infant. That infant had now ripened into womanhood, and her present grief was occasioned by her uncle's announcement that he had entered into a treaty of marriage for her with a leader of his own nation. This uncle was a man as well known to Sir Stephen as to all the other Christian leaders, and he had long been engaged in a traitorous correspondence with the besiegers. His name was Phirouz, and he was the head of the celebrated tribe of Benni Ferri, or the armour makers; he had great weight among the people of his own persuasion, of whom there were many in Antioch. By intrigue and rapacity he had collected immense possessions; and still, such was his avarice, that he left no means untried to increase his stores.

Sir Stephen was interested by the fate of the young lady. He already hated Phirouz, and he would have pitied any human being under the Armenian's control; but, when he saw how beautiful she was, and listened to the enchanting music of her voice, a softer sentiment prevailed, and he found that her form had made a deeper impression on him than any fair one had yet produced. As he was a man of few words

and great honesty, he soon told her so. It is hardly necessary in these days, when the science of making love is so matured that our readers know all about it quite as well as we do, to describe the course of Sir Stephen's declaration, or the Lady Violetta's blushes, and hesitations, and consent. The good Blanche, who, as all abigails in her place would be, was delighted at this occurrence, and at the prospect which it presented of getting free from the tyranny of Phirouz, did every thing in her power to encourage the lovers. They separated, with a promise on his part to renew his visit on the following evening. Several evenings passed in this manner, but not without Phirouz, whose servants were all spies upon each other, being apprized of the fact. One evening when the lovers were wandering through the luxuriant garden, Blanche remaining at a proper distance behind them, the head of the tribe of Benni made his appearance suddenly before them. Instead of reproaching Sir Stephen with having clandestinely entered his gardens, he professed the utmost delight at seeing him, and did not allude, unless when the curl on his lip betrayed the sarcasm which he dared not utter, to the manner of his introduction. This was by no means satisfactory to Sir Stephen. He knew that the Armenian must be displeased; and, although this did not disturb him a jot, he would not permit the appearance of a deception to remain. He told him, shortly, that his intention was to thwart the plans he had laid for marrying his niece, because she had never seen her intended husband-because she suspected he was a Jew, and because she had plighted her affections to him (Sir Stephen).

All this Phirouz listened to with unmoved gravity; he declined giving any reply to the Crusader's proposition as re garded his niece, because he said she could not yet know whether she loved him (the Lady Violetta's heart gave the lie to this); and he protested that he had no immediate intention of marrying her at all, and certainly none of marrying her against her inclination. Never was a speech which he who uttered, and they who heard it knew to be, from the beginning to the end, a falsehood, heard with more patience. After some further conversation Sir Stephen took his leave, with the understanding that his visits were to be as frequent as he chose, but not again over the garden wall.

Before parting, Violetta took an opportunity of assuring him, with great agitation, that she was sure her uncle had Jaid a plan for his destruction. There was something pecuhar in his manner which they who were often with him always observed when one of his diabolical plans was on foot. She bade him be cautious, and promised that she would send a guide, on whom he might rely, to conduct him out of the city. He laughed at her fears, and bade her farewell.

Some few hundred paces from the house of Phirouz, he perceived a misshapen dwarf, who, approaching him, put into his hand a small casket, with a significant look. Sir Stephen opened it, and saw it was a portrait of Violetta. He concluded, therefore, this was the guide she had spoken of. He asked him if it were so; the poor wretch opened his mouth in a manner which convinced Sir Stephen that he bad lost his tongue. At the same time he made a sign that the knight should go on, and he preceded him at a rapid pace. This was faster than Sir Stephen liked to walk, and he would fain have slackened his speed once or twice; but the gestures of the dwarf convinced him that there was some reason for his haste. It was now just nightfall when they reached a large Mosque. The dwarf looked anxiously at each pillar, as if expecting some one to start from them. He drew near the Crusader; and, by a sudden spring at his neck, brought him down on one knee. Before the knight could get his hand on his dagger he heard the twang of a cross-bow, and felt the quarrel whiz over his head. It occurred to him immediately that the dwarf had seen his danger, and had averted it; but, with the rapidity of lightning, he had disappeared. Sir Stephen saw his rush behind one of the large columns ; he heard a struggle, and something fell heavily. The dwarf Pissued immediately from the pillar, holding a large poniard, from which the blood fell in large drops. He drew the knight a pace or two forward, and showed him, by one of the lamps, a man lying weltering in his blood. A significant glance at his poniard told that he had slain the fellow; and, as he pointed to the cross-bow, which had fallen from his hand, and to Phirouz' insignia embroidered on his vest, Sir Stephen guessed the reason. All this was the work of a moment; and the dwarf, without allowing Sir Stephen to stay,