bushes along the bank. There I found the little boat hidden where you told me, Lord Edgar,—which reminds me that it is now across the moat, where I left it,—and in a few minutes, letting myself float with the current, I was carried beyond the moat, and could land upon the mainland. But I knew I must approach the Count's camp from the other side, and so I made a wide circuit, and it was not until within an hour of noon that I found myself in the woods, and approaching the road. I will confess that when I took this road, and struck out boldly for the Count's camp, I began to wonder whether I was not an old fool—but I was not convinced of my folly until later in the day. I had not gone far when I saw one of the Count's sentinels seated upon a log by the roadside, engaged in making himself a most savory stew. You will guess, Lady Amabel, that after my long walk, the smell of that hot stew was like honey to a bee. My mouth watered, and I approached the soldier with my eyes upon the porringer, and my nostrils sniffing its pleasant odor. I'm afraid that I forgot I was a minstrel and remembered only that I was a hungry Friar. But my harp was countersign enough, and the soldier, seeing me coming, spoke up heartily:
"‘Hola, Sir Minstrel, you come in time for dinner! I did not dream there was a glee-
