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nent man of letters then present. The impulse to speak masterfully was visible, before the recital was quite over, in the moving lines about his mouth-by no means designed, as detractors were wont to say, merely to display the beauty of his teeth; and one of his followers, aware of his humors, made ready to transcribe what he would say the sort of things of which a collection was then forming-the Florida or Flowers, so to call them, he was apt to let fall by the way; no impromptu ventures, but rather elaborate carved ivories of speech, drawn, at length, out of the rich treasury of his memory, and as with a fine savor of old musk about them. Discussing quite in our modern way the peculiarities of those suburban views, especially the sea-views, of which he was a professed lover, he was also every inch a priest of Esculapius, the patron-god of Carthage. There was a piquancy in this rococo, very African, and, as it were, perfumed personality, though he was now wellnigh sixty years old—a mixture of that sort of platonic spiritualism which could speak of the soul of man as but a 20 sojourner in the prison of the body really foreign to it, with such a relish for merely bodily graces as availed to set the fashion in matters of dress, deportment, accent, and the like.

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But a sign came from the imperial prince' that it was 25 time for the company to separate. He was entertaining his immediate neighbors at the table with a trick from the streets-tossing his olives in rapid succession into the air, and catching them as they fell between his lips. His dexterity in this caused the mirth around him 30 to become noisy, disturbing the sleep of the furry visitor. The learned party broke up, and Marius withdrew, glad to escape into the open air.

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XXIX.

THE TRIAL BY COMBAT.

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.'

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THE scene is the exterior of the Castle or Preceptory' of Templestowe, about the hour when the bloody die was to be cast for the life or death of Rebecca. It was a scene of bustle and life, as if the whole vicinity had poured forth its inhabitants to a village wake or rural s feast. But the earnest desire to look on blood and death is not peculiar to those dark ages, though in the gladiatorial exercise of single combat and general tourney they were habituated to the bloody spectacle of brave men falling by each other's hands. Even in our own 10 days, when morals are better understood, an execution, a bruising match, a mot, or a meeting of radical reformers, collects, at considerable hazard to themselves, immense crowds of spectators, otherwise little interested except to see how matters are to be conducted.

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The eyes, therefore, of a very considerable multitude were bent on the gate of the Preceptory of Templestowe with the purpose of witnessing the procession, while still greater numbers had already surrounded the tilt-yard belonging to that establishment. This enclos-20 ure was formed on a piece of level ground adjoining the Preceptory, which had been levelled with care for the exercise of military and chivalrous sports. It occupied the brow of a soft and gentle eminence, was carefully palisaded around, and, as the Templars willingly invited 25 spectators to be witnesses of their skill in feats of chiv

alry, was amply supplied with galleries and benches for their use.

On the present occasion a throne was erected for the Grand Master at the east end, surrounded with seats of distinction for the Preceptors and Knights of the Order. 5 Over these floated the sacred standard, called Le Beauseant, which was the ensign as its name was the battlecry of the Templars.

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At the opposite end of the lists was a pile of fagots, so arranged around a stake, deeply fixed in the ground, as to leave a space for the victim whom they were destined to consume to enter within the fatal circle, in order to be chained to the stake by the fetters which hung ready for that purpose. Beside this deadly apparatus stood four black slaves, whose color and African feat-15 ures, then so little known in England, appalled the multitude, who gazed on them as on demons employed about their own diabolical exercises. These men stirred not, excepting now and then, under the direction of one who seemed their chief, to shift and replace the ready 20 fuel. They looked not on the multitude; in fact, they seemed insensible of their presence, and of everything save the discharge of their own horrible duty. And when, in speech with each other, they expanded their thick lips and showed their white fangs, as if they grinned at the thoughts of the expected tragedy, the startled commons could scarcely help believing that they were actually the familiar spirits with whom the witch had communed, and who, her time being out, stood ready to assist in her dreadful punishment. They a whispered to each other, and communicated all the feats which Satan had performed during that busy and unhappy period-not failing, of course, to give the devil rather more than his due. . . .

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As they thus conversed, the heavy bell of the church of St. Michael of Templestowe, a venerable building situated in a hamlet at some distance from the Preceptory, broke short their argument. One by one the sullen sounds fell successively on the ear, leaving but suffi- cient space for each to die away in a distant echo ere the air was again filled by repetition of the iron knell. These sounds, the signal of the approaching ceremony, chilled with awe the hearts of the assembled multitude, whose eyes were now turned to the Preceptory, expect-10 ing the approach of the Grand Master, the champion, and the criminal.

At length the drawbridge fell, the gate opened, and a knight, bearing the great standard of the Order, sallied from the castle preceded by six trumpets, and 15 followed by the Knights Preceptors, two-and-two, the Grand Master coming last, mounted on a stately horse, whose furniture was of the simplest kind. Behind him came Brian de Bois-Guilbert, armed cap-a-pie" in bright armor, without his lance, shield, and sword, which were 20 borne by his two esquires behind him. His face, though partly hidden by a long plume which floated down from his barret-cap, bore a strong and mingled expression of passion, in which pride seemed to contend with irresolution. He looked ghastly pale, as if he had not slept 25 for several nights, yet reined his pawing war-horse with the habitual ease and grace proper to the best lance of the Order of the Temple. His general appearance was grand and commanding; but, looking at him with attention, men read that in his dark features from which 30 they willingly withdrew their eyes.

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On either side rode Conrade of Mont-Fitchet and Albert de Malvoisin, who acted as godfathers to the champion. They were in their robes of peace-the white

dress of the Order. Behind them followed other Companions of the Temple, with a long train of esquires and pages clad in black, aspirants to the honor of being one day Knights of the Order. After these neophytes came a guard of warders on foot, in the same sable livery, amid whose partisans might be seen the pale form of the accused moving with a slow but undismayed step towards the scene of her fate. She was stripped of all her ornaments, lest perchance there should be among them some of those amulets which Satan was 10 supposed to bestow upon his victims to deprive them of the power of confession, even when under the torture. A coarse white dress of the simplest form had been substituted for her Oriental garments; yet there was such an exquisite mixture of courage and resigna-15 tion in her look that, although in this garb, and with no other ornament than her long black tresses, each eye wept that looked upon her, and the most hardened bigot regretted the fate that had converted a creature so goodly into a vessel of wrath and a waged slave of the devil. 20

A crowd of inferior personages belonging to the Preceptory followed the victim, all moving with the utmost order, with arms folded, and looks bent upon the ground.

This slow procession moved up the gentle eminence 25 on the summit of which was the tilt-yard, and entering the lists, marched once around them from right to left, and, when they had completed the circle, made a halt. There was then a momentary bustle, while the Grand Master and all his attendants, excepting the champion and his godfathers, dismounted from their horses, which were immediately removed out of the lists by the esquires who were in attendance for that purpose.

The unfortunate Rebecca was conducted to the black

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