ened creature that bore him: one violent plunge flung him from the saddle—a corpse!
The first thing that Evelyn saw when he recovered from the stunning shock of his fall, was his young and gallant companion stretched on the ground. The long brown hair, of whose luxuriance personal and party vanity had been so proud, was already matted by the crimson tide that welled from the fair forehead, into which the bullet had entered; and the features, pale in the clear moonlight, wore the cold and rigid contraction which marks death, and death alone. Evelyn's heart sickened within him. But a moment before, and they had been riding gaily and fearlessly together, full of hope and of life; and now, there he lay, struck to the earth without pity or warning, his career ended, his brave ambition laid low!
"The King has lost a loyal servant, and I a true friend," muttered Evelyn, as he leant over the body; but the words choked in utterance, and as he knelt beside, he hid his face in his hands. Little time was, however, allotted for the indulgence of grief: he was roused by one of the soldiers touching his arm, and desiring him to mount.
With what different feelings did he now put foot in stirrup to the last time when he sprung to
