man she loved, as well.

It was dusk when they reached Battel and as Norman of Torn bid the prince

adieu, for the horde was to make camp just without the city, he said:

"May I ask My Lord to carry a message to Lady Bertrade ? It is in

reference to a promise I made her two years since and which I now, for the

first time, be able to fulfill."

"Certainly, my friend," replied Philip. The outlaw, dismounting, called

upon one of his squires for parchment, and, by the light of a torch, wrote

a message to Bertrade de Montfort.

Half an hour later, a servant in the castle of Battel handed the missive to

the daughter of Leicester as she sat alone in her apartment. Opening it,

she read:

To Lady Bertrade de Montfort, from her friend, Norman of Torn.

Two years have passed since you took the hand of the Outlaw of Torn in

friendship, and now he comes to sue for another favor.

It is that he may have speech with you, alone, in the castle of Battel this

night.

Though the name Norman of Torn be fraught with terror to others, I know

that you do not fear him, for you must know the loyalty and friendship

which he bears you.

My camp lies without the city's gates, and your messenger will have safe

conduct whatever reply he bears to,

Norman of Torn.

Fear ? Fear Norman of Torn ? The girl smiled as she thought of that

moment of terrible terror two years ago when she learned, in the castle of

Peter of Colfax, that she was alone with, and in the power of, the Devil of

Torn. And then she recalled his little acts of thoughtful chivalry, nay,

almost tenderness, on the long night ride to Leicester.

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