translated into the English “beech"), a gay pavilion was prepared, which commanded the view of the sparkling sea;—­shaded from the sun, but open to the gentle breeze.  This was poor Adeline’s favourite recreation, if recreation it might be called.  She rejoiced to escape from the gloomy walls of her castellated prison, and to enjoy the sunshine and the sweets of that voluptuous climate without the fatigue which of late all exercise occasioned her.  It was a gallantry on the part of Montreal, who foresaw how short an interval might elapse before the troops of Rienzi besieged his walls; and who was himself no less at home in the bower than in the field.

As they reclined within the pavilion—­the lover and his lady,—­of the attendants without, some lounged idly on the beach; some prepared the awning of a pleasure-boat against the decline of the sun; some, in a ruder tent, out of sight in the wood, arranged the mid-day repast; while the strings of the lute, touched by Montreal himself with a careless skill, gave their music to the dreamy stillness of the noon.

While thus employed, one of Montreal’s scouts arrived breathless and heated at the tent.

“Captain,” said he, “a company of thirty lances completely armed, with a long retinue of squires and pages, have just quitted Terracina.  Their banners bear the two-fold insignia of Rome and the Colonna.”

“Ho!” said Montreal, gaily, “such a troop is a welcome addition to our company; send our squire hither.”

The squire appeared.

“Hie thee on thy steed towards the procession thou wilt meet with in the pass, (nay, sweet lady mine, no forbiddal!) seek the chief, and say that the good Knight Walter de Montreal sends him greeting, and prays him, in passing our proper territory, to rest awhile with us a welcome guest; and—­stay,—­add, that if to while an hour or so in gentle pastime be acceptable to him, Walter de Montreal would rejoice to break a lance with him, or any knight in his train, in honour of our respective ladies.  Hie thee quick!”

“Walter, Walter,” began Adeline, who had that keen and delicate sensitiveness to her situation, which her reckless lord often wantonly forgot; “Walter, dear Walter, canst thou think it honour to—­”

“Hush thee, sweet Fleur de lis!  Thou hast not seen pastime this many a day; I long to convince thee that thou art still the fairest lady in Italy—­ay, and of Christendom.  But these Italians are craven knights, and thou needst not fear that my proffer will be accepted.  But in truth, lady mine, I rejoice for graver objects, that chance throws a Roman noble, perhaps a Colonna, in my way;—­women understand not these matters; and aught concerning Rome touches us home at this moment.”

With that the Knight frowned, as was his wont in thought, and Adeline ventured to say no more, but retired to the interior division of the pavilion.