IN

that a very moderate force would have sufficed for its perfect security.

These were the qualities which probably recommended it to the profligate queen of the ill-fated Edward the Second, who, after her husband's most foul and barbarous murder, took up here her residence with her paramour, Mortimer, Earl of March.

The old Saxon fortress had been carefully enlarged and strengthened. It was garrisoned by a formidable body of troops, the tried adherents of Mortimer, who had seen much service in the cruel civil strife, now known by the name of the Baron's Wars,' and whose practice in shedding the blood of their countrymen, had seasoned them to more than the ordinary barbarities of warfare.

Some of the chieftains, whose principal recommendations were, that they would stop at no evil deed, when urged by the bidding of Mortimer and the hope of gain, had also taken up their abode in the castle, and they, with some few churchmen, of whom Burwash, the bishop of Lincoln, was the head, formed the court of the guilty pair.

The opposite faction, crushed and beaten as they were, saw with most dismal apprehensions the proceedings of Mortimer. They knew that he had good reason to fear their resentment, and they doubted not that he would soon find some means of requiting their past opposition to his designs, and of preventing their future attempts to thwart his projects of daring ambition.

Mortimer's frequent consultations with the Bishop of Lincoln, and some others of his party, secretly as they were conducted, yet came to the knowledge of the barons, and they had too much reason to believe that some plan full of danger to themselves was on the point of being carried into effect. They in their own defence held meetings, to which, for the sake of security, they repaired in disguise; and altho' each was convinced that some speedy measures ought to be taken, it was extremely difficult to hit upon any which should at once be effectual and safe, without drawing down the open vengeance of Mortimer.In the very depth of their despair, a ray of hope broke in upon them from a quarter where they had the least expected it.

The young King Edward III., although he bore the name of king, was held so completely under the dominion of Mortimer and of his mother, that he was thought to be a willing slave to their behests. Although he ought to be the most active, as he was the person the most interested, in crushing the dau

gerous traitor by whose influence his sceptre was made a child's bauble, he seemed to acquiesce wil lingly and basely in the usurpations of the favourite.

But this was a mistake. He had long beheld, with an indignant spirit, the insolence of the governor; and when the Lord Montague was one day complaining to him of some wrongs he had endured, he asked him suddenly why he had neither loyalty nor courage enough to bring down the head of so dangerous and aspiring a traitor as Mortimer.Lord Montague could scarcely believe that he heard aright. He replied, that he desired no better than to risk his life in such an enterprise, if he were backed by the king's authority. Edward told him, that he had full authority, and bade him set about the affair; and giving him his signet ring, as a token to Sir William Eland, the governor of Nottingham Castle, desired him to take measures for surprising Mortimer. At the same time he enjoined him great caution, as the slightest intimation of such a design would put Mortimer upon his guard, rouse all the bitterness of his soul, and, as his influence with some of the martial barons was very great, would certainly renew the civil war, from which the country was suffering.

Lord Montague was not slow in communicating with his peers; and it was soon arranged, that he should make his way into the castle, disguised, and arrange with Sir William Eland their future proceedings. For the purpose of lulling Mortimer's suspicions, it was settled that the king should, on the following day, set off for London; that some of the lords should accompany him, and that others should quit Nottingham on pretence of returning to their homes. This plan was put into execution.

On the following night, just as

the evening had closed in, two horsemen, clad in the ordinary dress of men at arms, rode up to a small lone inn, called the White Rose, situate at about a mile from Nottingham, on the Leicester road. Soon afterwards three stout franklyns, who had been, as they said, at the market of the last-mentioned town, also arrived. By degrees, and in companies of two or three, several other travellers in equal humble garb, arrived; two or three friars, and some pilgrims, also came up; until, at length, there was a company of twenty men assembled in the common room of the White Rose, to the astonishment and delight of the host, who had seldom his hostelry so well filled. His surprise was not a little increased by perceiving that his guests seemed to know each other, and were engaged in deep conversation; they seemed to be expecting some one; at length the sound of a horse in hard gallop was heard without, and the guests all looked forth at the door and windows with eager anxiety. The sound approached nearer-and, on reaching the inn, a man in the dress of a monk, but who rode not like a churchman, leaped from his horse.

'Tis he!' cried several voices. 'Silence!' cried the monk; and the whole party drew into the house. The monk followed them into the room. 'One moment may ruin all,' he said, and if our meeting here should get wind, our heads will pay the forfeit. Secure all who are about, and who are not of us.'

In a moment the host, and a lout of a boy, who acted as his hostler, were laid hands on, and unceremoniously thrust into the cellar, where the key was turned upon them, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the poor man, who believed that his guests meant nothing short of robbing his house.

The monk then flung off his frock,

There are other ways of entrance beside the gate. Far out in the fields is an aperture, known to none save to Sir William Eland, which leads to a cavern; at the end of that cavern is a winding staircase, cut in the sand-rock on which the castle is built. It was constructed in olden times, when the fortress was used as a place of refuge by the Saxon kings, at the time that the invasions of the Danish pirates, made it necessary to retire to the interior of the country. This passage leads to the very base of the castle, and is closed by a massy door in one of the cellars of the castle, which all who know of its existence at all (and there are not many such) take to be an old well long closed up. At this opening the governor will be to admit us. Once there, a few minutes suffice to carry us to the chamber of Mortimer, and then, revenge is ours,'

A suppressed murmur of exultation ran through the assembly.

There is one thing I have to say,' said Lord Montague, the service we go on is dangerous-it may even fail. We must not, therefore, set our all, and that which is dearer to us than any thing which is oursthe safety of our king, upon this desperate chance. My liege, you must back to Leicester. If fortune smile upon us, a swift messenger shall inform you of our good luck. If she fail us, then we are enough to fall in the attempt of restoring to our monarch bis throne, and to our country its liberties.'

We have no time to spend in talking,' said the king, and the gift, of speech is not mine. One word shall suffice for all: I am an adventurer with you in this enterprise, and with you I stand or fall. No words, my lords, it is decided,' he added, waving his hand; and now let's to horse.'

It was in vain to resist the determined manner in which the young monarch said this. The horses were quickly mounted, and the party, out of the highway, rode across the meadows, by the side of the Trent, until they reached the spot indicated by the governor. By his directions, the opening was soon found: and four of the party staying to take care of the horses, and to secure a retreat for the others, in case it should be necessary, the king and the rest entered the cavern.

he thought not of; but there was a rush of agonising thoughts 'through his mind, that made him wish the earth would swallow him. He believed, with the rest of the world, that his mother carried on a guilty intercourse with Mortimer; and the exposure which must necessarily be made of her shame, if the Earl of March should be found in her chamber, cast a feeling of degradation over him which was insupportable. He was almost disposed to recede, when Sir William Eland, who guessed the emotions of his mind, pointed to a door adjoining that of the queen's bed-chamber, and whispered to him, 'Mortimer.' At the same moment he heard the deep low tones of the favourite's voice. He breathed freely and felt as if the weight of a world had been removed from his breast.

The whole of the party, with weapons bared, and with steps so soft and slow that not the slightest noise was produced by them, stole gently along the passage, until they reached the door, which stood open. They were now near enough to hear that Mortimer was in converse with Burwash, the Bishop of Lincoln.

And now to rest, holy father,' he said; 'yonder is the list of your foes and mine; and I swear, by the beard of St. Paul, that not many days shall pass in which they and I will breathe together this air of life.Read it to me once more, I pray thee.'

Burwash was heard to read the names of Lord Montague, Sir Humphry and Sir Edward Bohun, the Lords Molines, Hufford, Stafford, Clinton, and Sir John Neville-all of whom were listening.

Many thanks to ye!' whispered Lord Montague, whose vivacity always grew with danger.

But,' said Burwash, all these are friends of the king, and how think you he will brook their death?'.

'He is a boy-and a foolish boy,