The morning star and Catholic messenger., 1874-09-20
THE
LION OF FLANDERS;
THE
BATTLE OF THE GOLDEN SPURS.
BY HENDRIX CONSCIENCE.
OR THE
[Continued.I

| lContnued.I
Robert was deeply moved by his fathers
tears he felt, as it were, the pains of martyr
dom in his heart. At last his emotion burst
all bounds, and almost beside himself, he ex.
claimed:
my prince and father! your curse upon me,
if You will! but this swear to you,-never
will creep or bow before Frenchman ! In
this thing cannot obey yeu."
But even amid all his excitement Robert was
terrified at his own words Pale and trembling
in every limb, he clenched his hands convul-
sively, till the iron scales of his gauntlets
might be heard grinding upon one another
throughout the hall. He felt his resolution
shrinking, and awaited the curse he had de-
| fed in an anguish like that of death.
All present waited for the reply of the old
Count with anxious expectation. At last he
threw his aged arms round his sons neck, and
cried with tears of love and joy.
20 my noble son my blood,-the blood Of
the Counts of Flanders, flows undegenerate
in your veins Your disobedience has bestow-
ed on me the happiest day of my life. Now
willingly could die One moro embrace, my
son for words do not suffice to express the
joy of my heart"
Admiration and sympathy filled the hearts
of all the noble company, who looked on in
solemn silence, while the old Count, releasing
his son from his embrace, and turning to his
barons, exclaimed enthusiastically
"See, my friends; such was in my younger
days, and such have the Damperres ever been.
Judge by what you have seen and heard
whether Robert dc Bethune does not deserve
to wear his fathers coronet. Such are the men
of Flanders! Yes, my son, you are right;
Connt of Flanders must bow his head before
no stranger. Bnt am old am the poor i'm
prisoned Philippa's father, and yours, my
brave son. I will myself knee1 before Philip
since such is the will of God, humbly submit.
And you Robert, shall go with me ; but not to
bow the head or bend the knee before the op-
pressor. Hold yourself, as ever, erect that so
there may be Connt of Flanders after me free
from shame and reproach."
The various preparations for the Journey
were now discussed at length, and many i'm
portant points were deliberated upon and set
tied. Robert de Bethune, now calmer and
more collected, left the hall, and proceeding to
the smaller apartment, where Matilda still
he took the maiden by the hand,
and led her to a chair; then drawing one for
himself, he sat down beside her.
"My dear Matilda" he began, "yon love
Tour father, do you not ?"
"You know do" was the roply, while she
,aressed the knights bearded cheek with her
oft hand.
"But," he continued, would You not also
owe q man that ventured his life in my de-
euceR' ,
"Yes, surely; and bear him eternal graft
uds"
"!Well then, my daughter; a knight has g
isked his life in your fathers quarrel, and is 8
orely wounded, perhaps even unto DEATH" n
40 Godl will pray for his recovery forty a
ays, and more tOop
ado so, my child, and for me too; but have c.
, ask yet something more of you"
"speak, my father; am your Obedient o.
hiId.n
Understand me we'll, Matilda; we are going a
II some days on a journey, your grandfather I'll
nd /, and all the knights that are here with o
). Who, then, shall give the poor wounded Il
night to drink when he is thirstyp ID
" Who I, my father; will never leave his d
de till you return. 1 will take my hawk into oi
e chamber, and be his constant attendant.
ear not that viii leave him 20 the servants
, own hand shall hold tbo cup TO his lips. G.
4 reseFegg shsil s. ny bert hope end ny u
2ta Il