bestowal of a wreath on the loveliest of the maidens.

During the pause it was evident that an unusual incident had occurred.
The best-looking of the girls were pouting, the attention of the youths
was distracted. During the latter part of the dance the applause had
been intermittent; towards the close it had almost ceased. The elders,
looking about under their shaggy eyebrows, had not been long in
discovering the cause, and when they had found it allowed their
attention to wander also.

The disturbing element was, indeed, not far to seek. Close to one of the
bridges was seated a maiden, unknown to all of them, but lovely enough
to hold the glance of old and young. Unlike the natives she was tall and
fair; masses of golden hair encircled her oval face and clustered over
her blue eyes. Who was she? Whence came she? None could answer. By
degrees some of the boldest of the youths approached, but their bluff
manners seemed to displease her; though unaccustomed to rebuffs they
retired. One, however, among them fared differently. Jean Letocq, a
member of the family to which the hero belonged who near this very spot
discovered the sleeping troops of the Grand Sarrazin, was admired and
beloved both by youths and maidens. First in every sport, having shown
courage and resource in times of peril both by sea and land, tender of
glance and gentle of tongue, he held a pre-eminence which none disputed,
and which was above the reach of envy. The fair stranger, from his first
glance at her, had fascinated, enthralled him: his eyes fastened
greedily on her every movement; he noted well her reception of those who
had addressed her, and when he approached he came, bare-headed, with a
low obeisance and a deferential air. He seated himself by her in
silence, after murmuring a few words of welcome to the feast, to which
she made no answer. Presently he spoke again, softly and courteously;