Love, however, it would appear, is insatiable of assurances; and, probably, it was on some fresh demand for a new, or greater acknowledgment, that the lady replied to a half-whispered speech: "Certainly, dear Hugh! Can you doubt it? I will try, with all my mind, to love you; for, as we are to be married, whether we love each other or not, it is but good policy to strive to do so if it be possible." And as she spoke, she fixed her eyes upon her companion's face, with a look of malicious inquiry, as if to see what effect the lukewarmness of her speech would produce upon a heart she knew to be sufficiently susceptible.

He only laughed, however, and replied, "Sing me a song, then, dear Alice, to cheer these green woods, and make me think you love me better than you do."

"Not I, indeed," replied the young lady. "In the first place, I would not cheat you for the world; and in the next place, neither song nor pastourelle, nor sirvente, nor virelai, will I ever sing, till I am asked in song myself. Sing, sing, Hugh! You have been at the bright court of France, and are, I know, a master of the gaie science. Sing the light lay you sang yester evening; or some other, if you know one. It matters not which."

"Be it so, if you will sing afterwards," replied the young cavalier; and without farther question than an inquiring glance towards the Lord of Hannut, he sang, in a full, rich, melodious voice, one of the common songs of the day, which was not altogether inapplicable to her speech. The words, though in a different language, were somewhat to the following effect:--

SONG.
Sing in the days of the spring-time, beloved;
In those days of sweetness, oh, sing to me!
When all things by one glad spirit are moved,
From the sky-lark to the bee.
Sing in the days, too, of summer-time, dearest;
In those days of fire, oh, sing to me then!
When suns are the brightest, and skies are clearest,
Sing, sing in the woods again.
Sing to me still in the autumn's deep glory;
In the golden fall-time, oh, be not mute!
Some sweet, wand'ring ditty from ancient story,
That well with the time may suit.
Sing to me still in the dark hours of sadness,
When winter across the sky is driven;
But sing not the wild tones of mirth and gladness,
Then sing of peace and heaven.

"A pretty song enough, for a man to sing," observed the young lady, as her lover concluded; "but, as I do not choose to be dictated to by anybody, I shall even sing you such a song as suits me myself, whether in season or out of season. What say you, dearest uncle?" she added, turning to the Lord of Hannut; and laying the fair rounded fingers of her soft hand upon his, "What shall I sing him?" And as she spoke, she raised her eyes towards the sky, as if trying to remember some particular lay from amongst the many that she knew; but scarcely had she done so, when an involuntary cry burst from her lips--"Good Heaven!" she exclaimed, "there are armed men looking at us from the top of the bank: there, there!"

Every one started up, and turned their eyes in the direction which hers had taken. There was, indeed, a rustle heard amongst the trees; and a stone or two, detached from above, rolled down the crag, and plunged into the stream at its foot. But no one was to be seen; and, after gazing for a moment in silence, the lover beckoned one of his attendants to follow, and bounding up the most difficult part of the cliff, notwithstanding the fair girl's entreaty to forbear, he plunged into the brushwood, in pursuit of the person who had disturbed their tranquillity.

"You are dreaming, my fair Alice," said the Lord of Hannut; "and have sent poor Hugh de Mortmar on a foolish errand."

"Nay, indeed, uncle," replied Alice, "I dreamed not at all. I am not one to dream in such a sort. For Heaven's sake! bid one ride to bring us assistance, and send some of the men up to aid poor Hugh; for, as sure as I live, I saw two or three faces with steel caps above, looking through the branches of the trees. Hark! do you not hear voices? Climb up, sirs, if you be men, and aid your young lord."

The attendants looked to the baron; and on his part, the Lord of Hannut only smiled with an air of incredulity; when, much, indeed, to the surprise of Alice, her lover appeared above the moment after; and, springing easily down the rock, declared that all was clear beyond.