Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-10-16

the figure before him, but recovering himself |
with powerful effort. he exclaimed in a tone |
of cutting irony
"And who art thou discourteous churl |
hat thus dares to malign a spotless name? |
Iayhap some bower knight or low born adj |
venturer. about to run tilt in honor of his |
maiden spurs; and yet, good faith noble gen.
tleman, We perceive that neither crest, cog
nlZence nor lady's favor wears this pOxy |
champion for another's wrongs. Pity to let |
such martial ardor cool-although. by holy
rood! (said he, turning to the lady Bertha,) |
such loneliness this might well plead our
rejection of nobler cause. 1t shall never
be said that loves light letters so bound
the heart of Guy de Courcey; and now, fair
lady, grace with your presence but the field.
and under favor of your bright eyes and this
good blade, / trust to do such service as
will again lead me willing captive to your
feet.n
He spoke to vacant ears, the lady had start
ed from the death-like stupor into which she
had sunk since her first Weakening from the
effects 90 the sleeping draught. The strangers
voice had fallen like long forgotten music on
her ear the icy chain that bound her spirit
broke, and memory poured its gushing tide
along. Once more she was happy girl. and
rambled with her beloved Alain through the
verdant woods and lofty bowers of Rhein-
stein. She raised her large blue eyes and
gaZed wistfully on the figure of the stranger
The lists were quickly formed and an ele-
waited seat arranged for the lady Bertha for
even the most timid of the fair sex were
bound to preside at those contests, as we'll as
those lighter jousts and tournaments, which,
generally undertaken in honor of their charms,
formed the principal amusement of the chiv-
airy of the age.
While the preparations of the combat were
completing. knights and squres crowded
md no Str Thair of
lance and profuse inquiries were repealed with
grave and chilling courtesy. AT length the
signal was given, and with cOuched lance the
challenger rode into the lists. De Courcey
spurred forward to meet him. AT the first
onslaught both lances shivered to the grip.
Fresh weapons were placed in their hands.
Again the lance of the stranger was shattered
on the breastplate of his opponent. All eyes
were now fixed on De Courcey, when sud
denly the stranger was observed to reel faint
ly in his saddle. For a moment he rose slowly
in his stirrups, and aimed a few random blows
with broken stump that remained in his
hand, then sinking backward, his arms fell
poweress by his side.
Four squires instantly entered the barrier.
and advanced to his assistance. They lifted
him out of the saddle and placing him on the
greensward, hastily unlaced his helmet. a
quantity of raven hair clustered round pale,
death-like cOuntenance, whose extreme youth
and beauty at once attracted the sympathy
and curiosity of the by-standers. Some press
ed quickly forward, and undoing the armor.
began to chafe the limbs of the stranger, but
alasI in vain. the vital spark was extinct.
The gallant youth had fought in the last ago
MES of death. The worn and emaciated APP
pearance of the strangers body gave loose to
conjecture. until the marks of letters on the
arms and the wrists solved the enigma. The
knight had escaped from Palestine. and the
well-known TigOr with which the Saracens
| treated the unfortunate captives who refused
| to abjure their faith and country flashed on
the remembrance of all present.
| Escaped from the MoOrs!" exclaimed
knight IT'S Alain Ruter. of Rheinstein,"
murmured he, as he bent over the wan cOun-
tenance eyes, gentlemen. it is Alain Ruter
who for his noble deeds in Palestine, was
knighted by the hand of the great Louis him
SELF
Its Alain Ruter ~ was echoed from lip
to lip.
A hurried step was now heard advancing.
All moved back with respectful sympathy, as
| the form of the old seneschal of Rbeinstein
| tottered into the circle.
"Who speaks of my Alain. gallant gentle
men?" said he. in low husky voice. Say,
has my boy returned? He was not dead
then" He uttered wild, bitter cry, as he
threw hemself on the body, the long, gray
hairs mingled with the raven curls, as he
pressed the cold, inanimate clay to his breast.
'Oh he is not dead, sirs; my boy, my Alain,
will awake! You could not have coldly muir
dered one so brave and good. They say old
| hearts are callous !; but oh they have not
felt the pangs of madness burning in their
brain, long, sleepless nights and days of ag-
Ony, the aching, yearning sorrow with which
a father mourns for his child"
Over the hum Of young. eager voices that
pressed consoling around old Bruno, there
rose a scream of such thrilling misery as
never issued but from the very depths of a
broken heart. There was a hutter of thin
white robe, as the dark mass opened for a
moment. A knight came slowly forward.
| He knclt, and reverently laid the far form of
the Inflated Bertha by the side of her lover.
Her deep blue eyes were closed as if in a pro-
found and happy sleep-her gentle spirit had
fed for ever.
MOurned by every youth and maiden in the
Rhinegan, the Flower of Rheinstein was laid
in her ancestral vault. and by her side,
his shattered weapons crossed upon his breast,
they laid their young crusader.
Stout Baron Hugo would have turned
monk, but he was too much attached to the
wine-cup, so he resumed his old way of life
and was knocked on the head in one of his
predatory excursions.
Sir Guy disappeared without enforcing his
claim on the lands of Rheinstein, but years
after, a weary palmer brought tidings to the
neighboring monastery of shameful discom-
future experienced by the Christian host, for
foremost in each salla, and still bearing the
pennon of the Cross, knight of st. John led
on the Paynim ranks. The holy man crossed
himself as the name of Sir Guy de Courcey
passed his lips.