fair Brinhilda; and now let me tell you, that I am the stout Ludwig Langenspeers, who am in arms against all roving spirits; but if you can carry my sword, I am content to be your's, and it's the office of a gentle damosell to unarm her Knight.'—' Unbrace it,' said Brinhilda, and let me try.'-' There, fair gentlewoman,' returned Langenspeers, casting the sword with a violent clank to the earth, but retaining in his hand the chain to which it was suspended. Brinhilda tried to raise it, but it was enough for any three ordinary men, and therefore all her attempts were in vain: but while she was stooping over it, the Knight silently took from her head the oaken and ivy crown, and shred off with his dagger a large tress of her golden hair. At length, seeing her labours were to no purpose, he drew up the sword again, and, after bracing it on, put his steed into a gallop, and said,

Fare you well, Lady! you are no Erl King's daughter, not to be able to lift my sword. I shall never yield to you, for my faith is heavier than that brand; but I shall carry off these trophies, that I may know you when we meet again.'-'Go on, uncourteous Knight,' said the Lady, Death's Horse is abroad and he will

revenge me:' and Ludwig rode onwards through the Forest.

"As the moon began to sink down the sky, he drew near to a sort of plain in the wood, but ere he could gain it, he heard the hollow voice of some one, apparently riding very near to him, and singing:

'I ride the forest, I ride the wood,

I ride on the broad highway;

The track of my charger is mark'd with blood,
Like a field on the battle-day!

Whate'er he pursues, in vain is flight,

There never was barb so fleet;
Whate'er he attacks, in vain is might,
Whole armies fall at his feet!
No mortal dare upon him to look,

Although he be stout and brave;

Each step of his tread is a knell for the dead,
And each bound is the span for a grave!'

“Ah!' said Ludwig to himself, this is a terrible homily, truly: it comes, doubtless, from that same Death's Horse, of which I have heard so much; but he must not go unanswered neither :

"Oh Death! Oh Death! there is one by thy side, Who fears not thy steed nor thee,

In arms against Demons to-night I ride,
Then come forth if thou can'st to me!'

"As he gained the plain, a troop of figures, like skeletons and fiends, of the most horrible grotesque shapes, came running in wild rabble rout from another path of the wood, and in the midst of them there was a fleshless form seated upon a little black horse, having harness, of cord, and a bell hung about his neck, which continually swung with a melancholy sound. The figure on his back was habited in a kind of white shroud; but though his visage was the face of a skull, he had a long black beard, and his streaming hair was surmounted by an Eastern crown twined about with serpents. He held in his left hand an hour-glass and dial, and in his right a spear, with which he made towards Ludwig; but the brave Knight, breathing a short prayer, couching his own resistless lance, and putting Maximilian to his full speed, rushed valiantly on the band, overthrowing and trampling down-"

"Hist, Speelman!" said the Captain of the Robbers, at this part of the story, "our prey has fallen asleep, so we can despatch them at once: do one of ye engage with the servant, I'll take the master myself; and if he resist, set Tusk, the mastiff, upon him."

The chief Bandit's dagger was at Carlton's

throat, when the door of the hovel was burst open by Harderwyck and his party, guided by the two Robbers who had been placed as watchmen. In an instant all was confusion: Carlton and Havresack sprang to their feet,-for the scene explained itself,-and they shook off, though with no slight effort, their treacherous entertainers. Volley after volley poured from each party, as well from those without, as from those within, the Bier-kroeg; and some of the first who fell, were Hendrick, Kornelis, the Captain, and Tusk the mastiff. Then arose a wild cry of “the Hut is in flames!" although, either in flight or pursuit, all whom that could alarm had quitted it. In an instant after the fire reached the Robbers' powder-magazine, and blew the whole into the air, leaving not a fragment behind to mark the site of the once famous Banditti-haunt, or the treacherous Inn of the Hunter's Rest.

VOL. II.

230

JUDGE JEFFREYS' GARLAND:

A LEGEND OF ALDERMANBURY.

CHAPTER THE FIRST.

Our greate Lord Chancellor Jeffreys us'd me with much respect : he is of an assured and undaunted spirit, and has serv'd the Court interest on all occasions. He is of nature cruel, and is the slave of the Court. DIARY OF JOHN EVELYN.

THERE are in almost every division of History, certain persons and events which partake of so much infamy, that by common consent they are blasted beyond recovery; and whenever they are mentioned it is with some epithet of execration, like the Jews hammering at the