of an imprisonment that had in its hold the breath of death.

Weary and pale grew she, and more morose and stern the Black Earl, and of
their tragedy there seemed no end. But when a year had nigh passed, one
rosy morning a servant-lass met Black Roderick as he came from his
chamber, her eyes heavy with tears.

And of what she said I shall sing, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

_"Alas!" she said, "Earl Roderick,
'Tis well that you should know
That each gray eve, lone wandering,
My mistress dear doth go._

_"She comes with sorrow in her eyes
Home in the dawning light;
My lord, she is so weak and young
To travel in the night."_

_Now stern grew Black Earl Roderick,
But answered not at all;
He took his hunting harness down
That hung upon the wall._


_Then quickly went he to the chase,
And slowly came he back,
And there he met his old sweetheart,
Who stood across his track._