ing, for the satisfaction he would have in beating his guest in the morning.
This Sir Egbert had early in life entered the army of the Emperor; had served under the celebrated George of Frondsberg, and subsequently commanded a company against the Venetians. Afterwards, on retiring from service, and settling at his castle, he began to repent of his sins:—he held open castle for the destitute, or the hungry and houseless traveller; and when he had fared sumptuously, he was, on taking leave, flogged out of the Castle for a rogue and vagabond. Sir Egbert was a rude soldier, and retained the manner of a camp, though he had been living some years in retirement. In a few minutes the bars of the gate were withdrawn, with a melancholy sound, as if giving warning of the approaching flogging, and Frank had a fit of cold shivers as he walked across the court-yard. He was hospitably received, and a number of lacqueys ran to help him to dismount: one took his baggage, another his steed, while a third ushered him into the presence of the Knight. He was seated in a splendid hall, but rose to meet his guest, and shook him by the hand so heartily that Frank almost cried out with pain, and was struck with fear and awe. He could not conceal his terror, and trembled from head to foot at the warlike appearance of the Knight, full of fire and
