fifty knights and barons, the flower of the midland counties better men never laid lance in

rest—And must I answer for the fault done by fifty ? False fiend, I defy thee! Depart, and haunt my couch no more—let me die in peace if thou be mortal—if thou be a demon, thy time is not yet come."

"In peace thou shalt not die," repeated the voice; "even in death shalt thou think on thy murders on the groans which this castle has echoed on the blood that is ingrained in its floors!"

"Thou canst not shake me by thy petty malice," answered Front-de-Bœuf with a ghastly and constrained laugh. "The infidel Jew—it was merit with heaven to deal with him as I did, else wherefore are men canonized who dip their hands in the blood of Saracens?—The Saxon porkers, whom I have slain, they were the foes of my country, and of my lineage, and of my liege lord.—Ho! ho! thou see'st there is no crevice in my coat of plate—Art thou fled? art thou silenced?"

"No, foul parricide!" replied the voice;