"Now, out on thee, Adeline! What are riches and renown but the means to
power! And for strife, the shield of warriors was my cradle--pray the
saints it be my bier! These wild and wizard extremes of life--from the
bower to the tent--from the cavern to the palace--today a wandering
exile, tomorrow the equal of kings--make the true element of the
chivalry of my Norman sires. Normandy taught me war, and sweet Provence
love. Kiss me, dear Adeline; and now let thy handmaids attire thee.
Forget not thy lute, sweet one. We will rouse the echoes with the songs
of Provence."

The ductile temper of Adeline yielded easily to the gaiety of her lord;
and the party soon sallied from the castle towards the spot in which
Montreal had designed their resting-place during the heats of day. But
already prepared for all surprise, the castle was left strictly guarded,
and besides the domestic servitors of the castle, a detachment of ten
soldiers, completely armed, accompanied the lovers. Montreal himself
wore his corselet, and his squires followed with his helmet and lance.
Beyond the narrow defile at the base of the castle, the road at that day
opened into a broad patch of verdure, circled on all sides, save that
open to the sea, by wood, interspersed with myrtle and orange, and
a wilderness of odorous shrubs. In this space, and sheltered by the
broad-spreading and classic fagus (so improperly translated into the
English "beech"), a gay pavilion was prepared, which commanded the
view of the sparkling sea;--shaded from the sun, but open to the gentle
breeze. This was poor Adeline's favourite recreation, if recreation it
might be called. She rejoiced to escape from the gloomy walls of her
castellated prison, and to enjoy the sunshine and the sweets of that
voluptuous climate without the fatigue which of late all exercise
occasioned her. It was a gallantry on the part of Montreal, who foresaw