It could not have been without a severe struggle that the two mortal
foes rode quietly in the same direction, with but a few yards between
them. They were not half an hour in the saddle when they discovered the
spire of the church they were both in search of, rising gracefully above
the trees. As they emerged from the forest, they could see stretching
before them a broad expanse of hill and dale, wood and field. Scattered
here and there were the humble dwellings of the forester and husbandman,
and, from their midst, towering above them, like Jupiter among the
demigods, stately and stern rose the old castle of the house of Stramen.
The western sky was still bathed in light, and shared its glories with
the earth; airy clouds, ever changing their hues, sported, like
chameleons, on the horizon; the stream that wound around the castle
seemed sheeted with polished silver: the herds and flocks were all
still, and the voice of the birds was the only sound; and, amid this
beauty and repose, how lovely and majestic was that finely moulded
Gothic church!

Henry de Stramen tied his horse to a tree, and was soon lost in the
elegantly carved doorway. Gilbert paused a moment, and gazed upon the
open country before him with very mingled emotions. He had been there
before at the head of his clan to disturb the serenity which, in spite
of himself, was now softening his heart. He did not linger long, but led
his horse a little within the woods, and entered the church. The
gray-headed priest at the altar was solemnly chanting, from the
beautiful liturgy of the Church, as he knelt down on the hard aisle, and
the branching ceiling seemed to catch and repeat the notes. Through the
stained window, where was pictured in unfading colors many a scene
suggesting the goodness and mercy of God, and the blessed tidings of
salvation, came the fading light of day, softened and beautiful. It was