Smyrna times., 1888-07-25
EDWY OF TYNEDALE.

-OeOIBb huuBlG III FRANK Leslie s.
EDWY OF TYNEDALE.
Never mind the when and where of this
tale. 1t is n romance, and romance is
the disembodied spirit of a story, only
sufficiently materialiZed to render it per-
ceptible to mortal senses. Suffice it to
know that it belongs to a country where
castles were a part of the vitality of the
land, not picturesque cenotaphS Of a dead
past; and to those olden days when men
not having yet learned to delegate the
keeping of their consciences to a national
code Of laws came nearer to the principles
that underlic those laws.
1t was a time and country Of arms.
Valor was the saint by whom all swore,
and no death was feared save Il death on
the straw. And with valor ruled song
When the clash of swords was for mo-
ment stilled minnesingers and minstrels
sang Of the sweetness of love Are not
the tendcrest blossoms Of the year those
that are fOstered by the snowdrift?
The Tower of Tyuedale had had its bap-
tisma Of blood and consecrations of song
more frequently, it may well be, than amy
other castle within the same horizon
bounds for it stood on disputed ground
1t was defiance in stone flung down by
an early Tynedale, and many Il time had
the BranksOme men dashed themselves
against it in vain assault. OAcc, indeed,
the portals had traitorously yielded, and
the banner of the hated house of the as
sailants had tauntcd the scattered Tyne
dalcs from the battlements Of their own
tower. That dishonOr had been wiped
out in the desperate courage OF the recap
ture but its memory reused to new life
| the old family feud, which had its birth in
the buried past.
1t was the thought of that jnfo:gotteu
| shame that made moro lofty the bearing
! OF the lord of Tynedale as he entered the
| dcmesne to which long absence had made
| him well nigh a stranger. The gay
! laughter of his retainers. who found it Joy
enough to feel the shadow Of TyncdalC
/ oaks once more above them, seemed to lis
ear but to mulilc the angry mutter Of de
feated men, Age itself was forgotten, as
/ the very thought Of the men Of Brank
some sent the hand of the old lord to tht
hilt Of his sword His steed, responding
to his unconscious touch, bounded for
ward, and carried him in advance Of hi.
train to the opening in the forest thai
commanded a distant view Of the tower.
And there the sunbeams that flashed
from spear head and sparkled from tht
! jeweled dresses of lady fair and gallan'
knight and waiting esquire sank int
shadows amid thY&olds of the Branksomt
banner which BranksOme hands had flung
once more from the battlemeuts Of Tyne
dale tower Dark and sullcn hung thr
silken folds heavy with shame. An,
dark grew the brow of the lord Of Tyne
dalc-dar.l even as the shadows of tn
forest. when that message met his eye
The sun sank down and the night cam
swiftly to cover alike the hated banne
and the little band resting under the cdg
of the wooded hill
IN Indifferent forester, to whom it mat
tered little whether the flag of the towe
were gules or argent, told the brief tale q
the days foray. An attack. a surprise
weak defense few hours of desperat
hand to hand fighting within the old walls
and then the sunset with its revelation
that was all.
The party camped hastily.
"We are helpless" said the old lord
bitterly; within those walls a handfU
may laugh at host; without, handfu
raindrops on the stones. False stones
they protect friend and foe alike"
Then spoke Edwy, the heir Of Tynedal'
My lord and father, an it please you,
will enter the tower. My harp will be N
passport, for = minstrel hath free warraI
to hall and bower. Once in, it will e
hard but find means to open the gates
our men ere the morning"
The old lords eye flashed. He felt I'll
fever Of youth throb in his veins for
moment; then it passed, but he behel
his own spirit llindling keen and high
the dauntless youth who faced him.
Go, my child. The honor Of Tyneda
, is in your hands"
50 it shortly came to pass that
gay young minstrel boldly deman,
cd admittance for his harp ar
himself at the gate where Edwy
Tynedalo might not pass for his life.
rude welcome greeted him from the hall
ENTER, thou minstrel lad. Such a d,
as this hath merited q night of son
What ballads hast thou that are new?"
); Ballads new and old in plenty
j pleasure the lords Of Tynedale tower
answered Edwy calmly, resting his ha
: near the board about which lOunged t
dark men Of Branksome, pledging the
victory in tankards of Tynedale ale.
his feet, trampled and stained, lay t
J sillen banner of his house, rudely to
from the battlement. But no one saw
fire that smoldered under 'Edwy's 10
cred lids
''Sing. harper, and Oswald shall dance
Oswald shall dance the morrow"
Edwy had already noted the bound
ure of Oswald, an ancient servitor Of t
house, who listened unmoved to the ru
jests and taunts of the soldiery. On,
at the first tone of Edwy's voice, quiy
passed over his blood stained cheek, b
he raised not his eyes from the flo
Grim, stern, silent, he waited, a
if he strained his iron muse
against the cords till he felt them S
and yield, 10 one needed. The youth wi
his harp was more diverting than the i
passive prisoner, whom their savage gil
moved not.
"a song! a song After the battle c
the madrigal!'
II have little faith in your madig
and MINISTRIES, growled one stout wig
"They are all false, these fair fngel
pt squires, who love better the strummine
iy a harp than the twang of a bowstring.
N Thou art soured, Gregory, and h
AOob bliF bdobG AOI AONG bOAEo ol4ACS IL
.st ot spoiled thy pretty face for thee"
'Fill thy tanlSard, Gregory, and 60 Il
to sleep"
Gregory scowled, but profted by
counsel.
ds, ''Now, harper. give US the last bal
ng in thy wallet"
ar, Edwy's fingers had been straying .
Fe the s5t-ngs Of the harp, waking til
- low. soft murmurs that musicians 10
. Now, with free hand, he struck
ringing chords, and no one save Osw
i heard aught but careless melody in
young voice that filed the hall.
II Burd Margret hath gone to the greenwood all
I Alone to the greenwood tree;
May sister, pray thee hinder me not,
My true love will tarry for me-
l. And first there came riding a visored knight
All fast by the greenwood tree;
ID "Durd Margret, burd Margret, thy Willie is f
d. But will thy true love be-"
~ o Willie, my Willie, and hast thou forgot
3 The tryst thou hast pllghted with meg
u o gin it be sooth that my Willie be false,
n Fun soon win thy Margaret dec
n Nay, weep not, fair maid, but come thou with
Ia My castle lies over the sea.
ID Nay, though all forsaken and faithless, my d'