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 treating him like a prince, he horsewhipped him out of his house like a vagrant or a thief. He was a rough soldier who could not divest himself of the manners of a camp, though he had now for many years lived in peace and retirement. Frank had not waited many minutes before the bars of the gate were withdrawn, and it opened with a melancholy noise, as if to give warning to the approaching stranger. Our traveller felt a cold shivering come over him as he entered the yard. He was, however, very well received, several domestics came to assist him in dismounting; one took his baggage into the house, another took his horse to the stables, and a third ushered him into a well lighted hall where he found Sir Egbert.

The warlike appearance of the athletic knight, apparently still in the vigour of life, full of fire and strength, who rose to meet his guest, and shook him by the hand till he almost screamed with pain, filled Frank with fear and awe; he could not conceal his terror, but trembled from head to foot.

“What ails you, young man,” asked the