Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1909-10-02 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

BAILEY.  S the old book that bids you admire here in this tale the nobility of Sir Bertram D'Ayleeford; and Fulke who wrote it, the little man, adds that no man dare everepeak of the story to Sir Bertram's self. Now it is strange, says the old book—saying it' at great length—it is strange that. Sir Bertram D'Aylesford, who was but a manof arms at the first, and spit of it married the fairest maid in England, was hailed comrade by King Edward, lorded it in three good shires—, strange it is that this man made scarce one enemy of all those whom he passed in the race to fortune and power. Well! Six hundred years are gone, and more since Bertram buckled on 17 is golden spars, and it may be we are cynics all, and sneer at Fulk&e heroics Yet Fulke, whose words I give you, if he was not a cynic, wee yet no fool, and I seem to hear Fulke give us back sneer for sr COT as he gr•es on: "Ye doubt me, gentles? Very sure are ye that ye would have held this great man in despite. Doubtless ye know—yourselves!' Strange also, as Fulke thinks, it was that God and Our Lady chose a very evil men to bring two good n-Yen to honour and love each other. Fulke 'is apt to think things strange.  But surely a very evil man he was—Giles Dentnoire, his name—but men called him, as he called himself, the Devil of Marston. An unkind Fate made him a younger son; which was very ill lot Giles Dentnoire, but worse for his brother Amaury, whom Giles stabbed in his cups for the sake of their father's heritage. But again was Bate unlin& For it was in the days of the great Earl, Simon of Montfort, and Earl Simon fell upon the murderer and drove him into outlawry. It was then that Giles began to merit his name in good earnest. The tale of the things he did 'is writ in bad Latin, and in Latin it is best left. From one deed of his you. may judge the rest.. He and his nen had stolen e, woman and her babe sway to their lair at Marston. The Devil of Marston made the woman serve him in his cups while the babe cried to her from the ground. For kr-r of his threats to the babe she did it, weeping, whitefaced. Foul oaths and fouler laughter rang loud about her; at last they began to heed her less. They were jeering at a man whcse head was weaker than the Test, who was madly drunk, and that man staggered to his foot suddenly and cried— " Why--Captain--Captain Devil—you be going round and round." At that the Devil of Marston laughed, and his men with him. But the drunken man brushed his hand across his eyes: "Why— Captain—why—the Devil has you! He be swingrag you round—and round—and round."  The Devil of Marston sprang up with an oath, and he caught the babe from the floor and flung it at the drunkard. The babe and the man fell together, and the babe was dead. Then the mother ran forward screaming, and she caught her babe to her bosom and kissed its bloody head, arid she sobbed, while the Devil of Marston Laughed. She heard that fiendish laughter, and fearless now, she Lissed through her teeth: " God grant you may die 604 Ah ; God grant that you shall die so!" But the Devil of Marston laughed, and he said: "Let yeur God try 1" YOU may guess what manner of man he as by that; and that was nowise the worst of his deeds. In the midst of them came to the throne a new King. Slowly he made men feel his power; edowly tue iron arna gathered the realm in its grasp; and  'T