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tion which he was not slow to gratify. At night-fall he visited her with his friend, who fell desperately in love with Gymelle, a lady of the queen's suite, and would have gained her love, but the maiden would not consent. Whereupon the queen advised her to feign compliance, telling her, go hence, and take my pillow, which is so formed that no head can rest upon it without sleeping.'-Gymelle did as the queen advised, and when the morning broke, Sir Caynis awoke to shame and mockery, Tristan, however, was ignorant of these and ventures, and, when the time of parting came, he sent Peronis to his tutor Kurnewal, the constant companion of his travels, desiring him to lead the horses beyond the moor which lay in their road. Peronis did according to this bidding, but while Sir Caynis and Kurnewal were waiting for the lover, there came by one of the kings friends, by name Pleherin; at the sight of him they all fled, and he mistaking Sir Caynis for Tristan, cried out, Turn, worthy Sir Tristan! Turn for the queens sake, if ever she was dear to you." The party, however, was too wise or too timid to listen to his conjuration: the more he called, the faster they fled, and he gave up the chase to tell what had happened to the queen, who had just before parted from her lover. Her indignation at Pleherin's tale was great, for according to the romantic habits of those times, Sir Tristan had slighted his mistress, by not stopping when conjured in her name, although at the peril of his life. She sent Peronis after him to declare her resentment, vowing she would never look upon him again. Sir Tristan in answer protested his innocence, observing that the story could not be true, as the horses were not yet come. At this moment his friends appeared, and, as Pleherin had said, with three horses only. Hence arose a violent quarrel between Tristan and Sir Caynis, who, besides, was in no very good humour, not hang yet digested his night's adventure, which he in part at least attributed to his friend. Sir Tristan, at first, was minded to slay him, but thinking it would little redound to his honour to do so, consented himself with sending back Peronis to the queen, with a vehement declaration of his innocence. Finding all messages failed of convincing Isalda, he again visited her himself, disguised this time as a leper, but she, sans ceremonia, ordered him to be cudgelled from her presence, Sorely did the knight take this insult to heart; he forthwith returned to

Sir Caynis, to whom he was reconciled, and moreover, at the instigation of Kurnewal, made a vow to avoid women for the long space of a twelvemonth, whereupon they all returned home to the land of Careches. Here Sir Caynis absolved Sir Tristan from all wrong, in presence of the king, and the knight in consequence was received into favour again with his wife, the fair Isalda, and loved her more dearly than he had done, a fact that seems a little at variance with his vow of avoiding women for a twelvemonth. As, however, Sir Tristan appears to have been the very pink of knighthood, we must make no impertinent remarks on trifles.

While things were thus at Careches, the Isalda in Cornwal was making all possible haste, to repent the wrong done to her lover. She employed a page, by name Pyloys, as a mediator, and he knew how to manage his business so craftily that he extorted a promise of forgiveness from the enraged lover, and, in the beginning of May, he set forth to revisit her, disguised as a pilgrim. With him was the faithful Kurnewal, who was now the cause of great danger to his master, for after Sir Tristan had again seen and left Isalda, he returned to the thorn, their old place of rendezvous, and to his great surprise found Kurnewal missing-how or when he was lost, the history does not say-but he was lost, and Sir Tristan sought so long that he was surprised by the mid-day, and found himself unexpectedly in the midst of a multitude who were amusing themselves in leaping, shooting, and throwing, and other similar diversions. To fly was to betray himself; as the most prudent part therefore he joined the merry groupe, but he did not escape unknown as he had hoped. A knight, one of his old friends, recognised him through his disguise, and entreated him to draw one arrow, throw one stone, and leap one trench, for,' he said, 'I know there is none among them, who can equal you in these things. Trust me to bring you off in safety. Truly,' replied Sir Tristan,' your prayer is foolish: I were not worthy to be called a man, if I could run myself into certain hazard for the sake of a little idle applause.' But the knight would not leave off so; he entreated him in the queen's name, and Tristan could no longer refuse; he did as the knight had desired, and though his superiority excited suspicion of the truth, he escaped without injury. The king indeed, when be heard the story, declared that the stranger could be no

body but his nephew, and sent out soldiers in a vain search for him, who was by this time in a place of safety.

These and many other dangers did Sir Tristan undergo for the love of the fair Isalda, from all of which his good frortune extricated him, that he might at last perish in a cause that concerned him not. Sir Caynis, in imitation of his friend, had fallen in love with Queen Guardeloye, who unfortunately for all parties returned his passion. By the help of false keys the knight visited his mistress at his pleasure, while Sir Tristan, who accompanied him, for want of better amusement, employed the time in shooting arrows in the wall, and again dividing the arrows so shot by a second shaft. One day he forgot to draw out the arrows, and to mend the matter, Sir Caynis dropped his hat into the castle moat. Both, however, thought little of these things, and meeting a deer in the forest, thought proper to hunt it until their horses sunk under them. In the meanwhile Rampicenis, the husband, returned; his jealousy soon discovered the hat. What is this?' quoth he, and entered his wife's apartment, where he found the arrows, as they had been left, sticking in the wall. Now nobody could shoot so skilfully except Sir Tristan; moreover he knew Guardeloye's love for Sir Caynis, from which two points he inferred any thing but good to his honour. Hereupon he drew forth his sword and faid, Guardeloye! here have been Sir Caynis and Sir Tristan !'-Guardeloye was too much frightened to deny the charge. And what did Sir Caynis do here? Speak the truth, or you shall surely die.' Whereupon Guardeloye was frightened, and in her terror confessed how she had sinned against virtue and her husband's honour.-No sooner had she said this than the enraged Rampicenis called together his vassals, and set out in pursuit of the friends, who, having lost their horses, were compelled to meet the attack. The result of this was such as might be expected; many of the aggressors sunk to rise no more, but at last Sir Caynis was slain. Tristan still continued to defend himself, beating down his enemies with his usual valour, till Rampicenis struck him in the side with a poisoned spear, and the hero fell to the earth with his death wound.

The melancholy news soon reached Careches, whence messengers were despatched without delay to their assist

ance,

Sir Caynis was brought home and buried with all

honour, while the physicians crowded about the wounded Tristan, but numerous as they were they could not heal him; nor was there any one at that time skilful enough to cure his wounds, except the fair Isalda, his uncle's wife. To her therefore Sir Tristan determined to send for aid. For this purpose he called to him a friend, and said, ' My dear friend be diligent in your embassy; remind my lady how I have often endured great toil and danger in her service, that she may thence be persuaded to assist me now, for without her I may not, and cannot, be healed. Tell her how it is with me, request her to come at all events, nay to abandon her country, for if I live we shall soon find counsel; but if she comes not, I must die.'-With this he gave to his messenger the ring he had received from the queen, and added, Take this ring to her as a token, that she may thence infer my great need of her assistance. If my lady comes, then carry a white sail; but if she refuses, then let your sail be black. Communicate this token to your daughter, that she may watch every day on the sea-shore for your return, and let me know the colour of your sail the moment it appears. Above all warn her not to speak of this to any

one.

The friend did as he was requested, and having prepared his daughter, crossed over the sea to Cornwal, where he found Isalda, to whom he gave the ring and told his story. Immediately thereon, the queen left her home and husband and people, and took nothing with her, save that which might be useful to the cure of the wounded Tristan. great was her love for him that she cared neither for king nor kingdom, nor any thing else that god had given her: all was as nothing when weighed against the life of him she loved.

So

During this the friend's daughter watched every day on the sea-shore in expectation of her father's return, till at last this circumstance came to the ears of Sir Tristan's wife, who contrived to extort from her a confession of the truth; how she had learnt this fact the old Romancer says notbut still she had learnt it, and ordered the poor girl under penalty of her life to inform her first of her father's return, and of the colour of the sail. This she was to conceal from Tristan.

And now the damsel espied the white sail, and reported

it to the queen according to her bidding, who instantly hastened to Sir Tristan. She, however, told the story. her own way, and from capricious playfulness, or perhaps some. worse motive, protested that the sail was black. Scarcely had she spoken the words, when terror fixed on the heart of Tristan; he laid his head upon the pillow, stretched out his hands, and yielded up the ghost. Too late did his wife perceive her error, and filled the air with lamentations, which were re-echoed by the whole city when his death became known among the people.

By this time the fair Isalda had landed. The moment she heard the general cry, her heart told her its meaning, but her grief was too hot for tears. With silent sorrow she entered the room where Tristan lay in death upon his bier, and bade his widow stand away from him. 'Woman,' she said, 'stand aside, and let me approach him nearer. Could I weep, my tears, believe me, would be more justly shed than yours-I loved him more dearly than you have loved him. She could speak no more; in silence she lifted up the pall, beneath which lay the joy of her life in the paleness of death; she laid herself beside her lover on the bierand died.

SCOTTISH GIPSIES.

BILLY MARSHAL.

Billy Marshal's account of himself was this:-he was born in or about the year 1666; but he might have been mistaken as to the exact year of his birth; however, the fact never was doubted, of his having been a private soldier in the army of King William, at the Battle of the Boyne. It was also well known, that he was a private in some of the British regiments, which served under the great Duke of Marlborough in Germany, about the year 1705. But at this period, Billy's military career in the service of his country ended. About this time he went to his commanding officer, one of the M'Guffogs of Ruscoe, a very old family in Galloway, and asked him if he had any commands for his native country being asked if there was any opportunity, he replied, yes; he was going to Keltonhill fair, having for some years made it a rule never to be absent. His officer knowing his