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THE LANDING AT HYTHE.

Richard, and loved Monina; his desire to satisfy both these sentiments suggested a project on which he now acted, and which dictated his discourse with Frion. He showed how from that very spot he might ride to London, and make disclosures to the king; his knowledge of every detail of the Yorkist plans was startling—ruinous;—his offer was simply this:—That the duchess of Burgundy should pay him a thousand golden crowns; that the Spanish maiden, Monina, should consent to wed him; and that they should seek together the golden isles of the western ocean, leaving the old world for York to ruffle in.

Frion desired time: it was necessary to consult Richard, and also Monina; where should they meet again? Clifford would appoint neither time nor place:—"I shall find you," he said: "I may draw your curtain at dead of night; come on you with an armed band of men, whom you think all your own. I will choose my own hour, my own audience-chamber. You have but to get the damsel's consent, and to tell her, an' you list, that she were better as Robin Clifford's wife, than as the light-of-love of the son of Jane Shore's gallant." With these words the knight rode off; and being much better mounted than the secretary, put all pursuit to defiance.

Frion was full of thought. He said nothing to the duke or Lord Audley; but the following day hastened to visit Monina at Canterbury, where she had resided latterly, in the character of a pilgrim to St. Thomas à Becket's shrine. Frion had flattered himself that he could easily persuade the young, inexperienced girl, whose ardour for York he had often admired. Yet he felt uncomfortable when he saw her. Monina looked a little pale, and her dark religious garb gave no adornment to her beauty; but there was in the innocence and tenderness of her full dark eye, in the soft moulding of the cheek which harmonized with the beautiful lids, and in her

"sweet lips, like roses,
With their own fragrance pale, which Spring but half uncloses."

—there was in all this a purity and soft appeal which even the politician felt, who looked on mankind as mere agents in the drama he caused to be acted. With some hesitation he brought out his story, but of course grew bolder as he proceeded. Monina looked pained, but said—"Double the number of crowns, and Sir Robert will content him. My father will make my ransom good."

Clifford's speech and manner had convinced Frion that this would not be the case; he tried to persuade Monina, and even repeated the knight's insolent message. Her large eyes grew