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THE BELEAGUERED CASTLE. BY H. J. VERNON. THE castle had already been beleaguered a week, and the hopes of the besieged daily waxed fainter and fainter. The friends who had stood by the gallant old Lord. Derwent when the fortunes of his house were high, had deserted him in the hour of his extremity, and left him to contend alone against the bitterest enemy of his house, an enemy whose hereditary hatred was now inflamed by the refusal of the old Baron to purchase an amnesty by sacrificing his only daughter to the arms of his foe. That daughter had been betrothed years before to a your kinsman of Lord Derwent, who was now on a crusade to the Holy Land, and though nearly two summers had came and gone since intelligence had been received from the good Knight, yet the Baron would have remained firm to his word, even if the suit of his foe had not been, as it was, repulsive to his child. So he had sent back a refusal to the proud De Courtenay, and when the latter threatened to harry his land and lordship unless he retracted the answer, the chivalrous old lord, although conscious of his inability to contend with De Courtenay, had replied by a bold defiance. His foe had proceeded to execute his threat, unchecked by the interposition of the royal hand, for the king himself was a prisoner in Germany, and his unworthy brother John permitted his followers, of whom De Courtenay was one, to pursue their own schemes of revenge or aggrandizement unchecked. Thus the foe of the good Baron had met hitherto no check to his rapacity. He had threatened to harry the lands of Derwent and fearfully had he executed his threat ! Manor after manor had been laid waste, village after village had been burned, and its inhabitants slaughtered or made prisoners, and now the bold father, fighting to the last with desperate bravery, had been driven into his last stronghold, which he was vainly attempting to defend, with an armfull of men, against almost countless numbers.

The siege had already continued a week, and all hope of succor from the old allies of his house, had long since been given over by the Baron. The provisions of the garrison had been exhausted, and the few Knights left in Derwent's train, were now met in the great hall to consult with their leader, respecting the course to be pursued. It was a sad and melancholy group. There were the war-worn and discomfited Knights, their countenances betokening the extremity to which they were reduced there was the grey haired Baron, unable wholly to conceal his fears, and yet unwilling to discourage his followers by betraying any symptoms of anxiety- and there too was the daughter, the innocent cause of the

peril in which all were placed, tenderly gazing up into her father's face, and by that silent display of emotion filling every heart of the group with a renewed determination to perish or preserve her. "I would, Amy," said the Baron, putting back the fair hair from his child's eyes, and gazing into her face with all a father's affection, " that you had staid in your bower with your maidens, and not come here to listen to the extremity to which we are reduced. Even now it is not too late for you to retire-the desperate discussions of brave men in peril are scarce fit for maiden's ears." " Not so - not so, father," interrupted the daughter, "a noble maiden should ever be the first to hear counsel in a moment like this, especially when it is for her that the peril is to be encountered. But this is not all. I have heard the proposal of De Courtenay to withdraw his forces even now, if I am given up. Therefore have I left my bower and joined you in the hall. And now hear me," she said, speaking clearly and slowly, as one who has come to some fixed determination speaks, “ I have too long remained silent, aye ! until I have suffered these brave men to be brought into this extremity, and now it becomes me to speak. It is apparent that no earthly power can prevent this castle from falling into the enemy's hands- then why protract a useless resistance ? I know what you will all say," she continued, seeing that several were about to speak-" that I will thus fall into the hands of De Courtenay. Well- be it So. Can further resistance prevent this ? Then why bring ruin needlessly on all ? If, by protracting the defence, we could ensure succor, then might I listen to you ; but no such hope of relief exists. A prey to the spoiler I must be, then let me be the sacrifice, but let these innocent men escape." For a moment her hearers were speechless at the generosity of her proposal. Then every voice was lifted up against it. "No," exclaimed a veteran Knight, " never will we desert you-we would be recreant Knights if we should. By our hopes of salvation we will, one and all, die in your defence." This gallant speech was welcomed with shouts by the other Knights until the old hall rung with their enthusiasm . "I knew, noble Knights," said the Baron, when the tumult had partially subsided, and his voice betrayed no little emotion as he spoke, " I knew what your answer would be to the insulting proposal of De Courtenay. But I was resolved that you should hear and decide for yourselves. I little thought that my child would be here to make the proposal for herself, but I thank you again and again for your enthusiasm in her favor. I am an old man and my days are numbered ; and all I regret is that I may not be able ere I die to reward you