ing sword. The pack rushing in upon their disabled enemy, soon ended his painful struggles, and solemnized his fall with their clamour—the hunters with their horns and voices whooping and blowing a mort, or death-note, which resounded far over the billows of the adjacent ocean.
The huntsman then withdrew the hounds from the throttled stag, and on his knee presented his knife to a fair female form, on a white palfrey, whose terror, or perhaps her compassion, had till then kept her at some distance. She wore a black silk riding mask, which was then a common fashion, as well for preserving the complexion from sun and rain, as from an idea of decorum, which did not permit a lady to appear bare-faced while engaged in a boisterous sport, and attended by a promiscuous company. The richness of her dress, however, as well as the mettle and form of her palfrey, together with the sylvan compliment paid to her by the huntsman, pointed her out to Bucklaw as the princi-
