Untitled

I8o
MOONFOLK.
time until his coal-black curls mingled with Tonnerre's
mane.
A pause of utter surprise and doubt held every
tongue and eye fixed for a moment,
while Rhoda sat,
the crown upon her folded hands, her eyes fixed upon
Sir Lancelot; the Lady Isolde's face grew dark with
envy and vexation, and the Lady Ermengarde stared as
if unable to credit her own eyes.
to speak :
Lancelot was the first
" Fair maiden, will you accept my prize, and with it
crown yourself Queen of Love and Beauty
? " asked he ;
and Rhoda, her courage and her wits flowing back to
her, raised the crown from her lap, and said in her soft
childish voice :
Thank you, Sir Lancelot ; but it is only because
you are so kind that you give it to me. I am not "
" Prythee hush, Miss
" Malapert
!
whispered Ermengarde
in her ear.
"
You are not to judge
the wisdom
of the good knight's choice, but accept it gratefully.
Put the crown upon thy foolish head, and bow and smile."
Without reply Rhoda obeyed, the trumpets rang out
a salute, the heralds announced her name and her title.
Noon had now arrived, the knights retired to their tents,
the royal party to a pavilion prepared for them, the
better sort of spectators to shaded spots beside the river,
or to private tents, while the common people, drawing
their luncheon from their wallets or baskets, picnicked in
the shade of the galleries where they sat.