France? What has the disinherited Henry of Normandy to offer in exchange, except his heart-his love-the worship of his life, to recompense the generous sacrifice ?"

"You shall win me a nobler crown," replied his mistress," than the one which I resign! Armed with the treasures and fleet of Aquitaine, you can easily make good your claim to England."

The young man's eyes sparkled with anticipated triumph. "See!" she continued, pointing to a parchment in her girdle; "here is my demand, addressed to the Pope, for a divorce, on the ground of consanguinity," she added, with a blush. Conscience whispered to her a second and a better reason—but neither she nor her paramour thought proper to allude to it.

At this moment, one of the Provençale dames of honor hastily entered the apartment, to announce the visit of the king.

Without a word, the guilty wife lifted the arras, and pointed to a passage which led to the terrace of the palace. Henry knew the locality but too well. Pressing her hand once more passionately to his lips, he hurried from her presence, and that same evening left Paris.

It was not without a vague feeling of terror that Eleanora seated herself to await the visit of her injured husband, who, almost immediately after the disappearance of his rival vassal, entered the room, accompanied by his chancellor, Suger, Abbot of St. Denis, who wore the simple dress of his order, and the Bishop of Beauvais, who held the office of papal legate at the court of France.

Louis VII.-who, since the result of his unfortunate expedition to Palestine, affected an austerity of manner and dress more suited to the inhabitant of a cloister than the sovereign of a warlike, gallant people-was in the very prime of manhood, but repeated penance and mortification had given a premature expression of age to his countenance; which expression his short hair and shaven beard increased rather than diminished. He was dressed in an open gown of dark cloth, with low, hanging sleeves, lined with sables; the only jewel on his person was a small fleurde-lis in diamonds, which he wore suspended by a chain of gold round his neck.

The simplicity of his costume contrasted strangely with the rich, flowing robes of the Bishop of Beauvais, whose long rochet edged with curious needlework, was confined round his waist by an embroidered girdle, mounted with precious stones. The cope

of the prelate, which was of crimson damask, trailed upon the rush-strewn floor. He was the last of the three visitors who entered the apartment of the queen. As he passed the portal, whose heavy curtains were held back by a soldier of the royal guard, he waved his hand in sign of benediction.

The beautiful Eleanora bent her head with careless indifference to receive it.

"To what strange event, beausire," she demanded, addressing herself to Louis, 66 am I indebted for the honor of this visit?" "Is it so strange," replied Louis, mournfully, "that the husband should seek the chamber of his wife?-that the King of France should hold converse with his queen ?"

"The witnesses you have chosen for our interview at least are strange," replied the haughty Eleanora; "but perhaps," she addbeausire, it is to announce your intention of retiring from a world, whose pleasures are too sinful for piety like yours!"

ed,

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"Woman!" replied her husband, sternly: "this levity but ill befits the Queen of France!"

"Say, rather," interrupted Eleanora, "the imprisoned Duchess of Aquitaine. Queen of France!" she repeated: "am I treated like a queen? Is this gloomy palace, which more resembles a convent than a court, a fit exchange for the rich dower I brought you?"

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Gloomy as it is," observed Louis, "it seems it cannot guard the honor of its master! Henry of Normandy

"Sire!" interrupted the queen; "I am tired of these idle accusations and ridiculous jealousies! If you imagine that Henry of Normandy has wronged you, it is from him that you should seek redress."

For a few moments Louis VII. remained speechless with anger and astonishment. Bigot as he was, he still possessed the pride of a king and the susceptibilities of a husband. Turning towards his

chancellor, who had been a grieved spectator of the scene between the ill-assorted pair, he said:

"You hear her, my lord! You hear the woman whom my ill-placed confidence and love has raised to the dignity of Queen of France !"

The Bishop of Beauvais crossed himself in horror.

The frail and beautiful Eleanora felt that the moment had arrived in which she must act decisively; and either break the chain which galled her, or rivet it forever.

"Queen of France!" she repeated. "Sire, I deny the title: the laws of our holy church, which, hypocrite-like, you invoke, declare our union null. We are within the prohibited degree of consanguinity. To you, my lord bishop," she added, as legate of the Pope, I present my appeal and demand for a divorce."

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With these words, the fair speaker drew from her girdle the parchment, sealed with her seal as Duchess of Aquitaine, and placed it in the hands of the astonished Bishop Suger, the enlightened chancellor, who saw in the divorce the dismemberment of the kingdom, in vain attempted to reconcile matters between the royal pair his remonstrances were unheeded.

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Silence, Suger!" exclaimed the king; "by heavens !—the hope of separating myself from this moral leprosy—this disloyal wife, and more disloyal queen-outweighs every other consideration!"

"Sire!" whispered the chancellor; "think of Aquitaine !” "Guienne !" added the legate.

"My honor!" interrupted Louis, firmly. "She hath appealed to the church, and the church shall decide between us: if her plea be just, heaven forfend that I should gainsay it !"

"For once, at least," said Eleanora, "spoken like a king !” "Beware!" continued her husband, whose pride and jealousy were both inflamed to the highest pitch; "you are playing a desperate game should the Holy Father confirm our marriage, in the face of France will I arraign and judge you as an adultress!"

A contemptuous smile curled the haughty lips of Eleanora, as she drew from her brow the circlet of golden fleur-de-lis—the

emblem of her rank as Queen of France-and cast it at his feet.

"Defiance for defiance, Louis!" she exclaimed; "display the oriflamme—the leopard banner of Aquitaine will not shrink before it in the field! If living, my faithful subjects will know how to demand their imprisoned sovereign from her shaven jailer, even at the gates of Paris; if dead, they will avenge her. Craven king! priest in heart, as well as person, Eleanora of Guienne scorns and defies you! The Pope and princes of Europe shall judge between us.”

Not daring to trust himself to reply, Louis VII. left the apartment, his heart full of rage and bitterness against the woman whose conduct, in a great measure, was to be attributed to his own folly and bigotry. That very day he summoned a council of his nobles, and gave orders to secure several of the most important fortresses in Guienne; but the subjects of his wife-for, till the decree was pronounced, so she must be considered-were too strong for him. Enthusiastically attached to their princess, his forces were everywhere repulsed, and he was compelled patiently to await the decision of the council of prelates, which, by command of the Pope, soon afterwards assembled at Baugenci, to pronounce on the important affair. The plea urged by Eleanora for her divorce was consanguinity-they were cousins. man Church does not admit of divorce on any other ground, marriage being one of its sacraments.

The Ro

The gold of the fair pleader was dispensed with a liberal hand; and in the following March, the council of prelates, despite the opposition of Suger, at once pronounced for the divorce. Louis and Eleanora were both present, and each-if we may believe contemporary writers-hailed with rapture the decision, which broke the tie between them; they were heartily tired of each other. This divorce at once paved the way for the marriage of Henry Plantagenet with the greatest heiress in Europe, without whose aid, it is more than probable, he would never have mounted the English throne.

No sooner was Eleanora restored to liberty, than she hastened

her departure for Bordeaux, where she was impatiently awaited by her loyal subjects, who bitterly resented the state of thraldom in which Louis VII. had so long kept their adored mistress.

CHAPTER II.

Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows;

Whilst proudly riding o'er the azure realm,

In gallant trim, the gilded vessel goes

Youth at the prow, and pleasure at the helm.

Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,

Which, huched in grim repose, expects its evening prey.

GRAY.

No sooner was Eleanora released, by the decision of the council, from her marriage vows, which for so many years had galled her, than she prepared to return to her faithful subjects in the south. It says something for the bright side of her character, that in all the vicissitudes of fortune, the inhabitants of Aquitaine maintained an unbroken attachment for their duchess.

Although all feeling of affection had long been extinct in the breast of Louis VII. for his divorced queen, he could not contemplate without uneasiness the prospect of her marriage with his vassal, Henry Plantagenet, in right of his father Duke of Normandy and Anjou, and claiming the succession of the crown of Englandan inheritance which the aid of Eleanora's vast dower could scarcely fail to assure him.

Aquitaine was already more powerful than suited either the ambition or security of the King of France; the additional influence which such an union would give to his vassal and late queen, threatened the independence of the crown itself.

These were the considerations which had induced the prudent Suger, the chancellor, to oppose the divorce.

The morning after the decree had been pronounced in the church of Baugenci, Louis and his minister were engaged in deep confe