large and flourishing) exhibited a very different appearance to that which it now displays.

During the turbulent and troublous reign of John, Margate, together with many other towns upon the shores of Thanet, was indeed but a 'mere gate:" a miserable looking sea-built hamlet or fishing village, having a watch-tower erected upon the part now designated as the fort-a sort of beacon containing a barrel of pitch in readiness to blaze intelligence of the hostile sail, or peradventure serve as a landmark during rough weather. The veritable sea-gate situate in a gap of the cliff, from which the place derives its name, and which frowning portcullis-like in the chalky height, was a sort of coast-guard substitute to hinder rogues and pirates from coming up into the country, on this side the island, to rob and plunder its inhabitants.

In place, indeed, of the handsome dwellings of the present day, in which so many visitors spend their summer vacation, the reader must imagine a squallid collection of huts.

It was in the immediate vicinity of this town that, on the opening of our story, a spectacle might be seen, that for some reason or the other which has never yet been satisfactorily urged, is never again to be witnessed in England. It was a hawking party. They came on attended by all those "appliances and means" of which the good Lady Berners has so amply and learnedly discoursed-whose book, by the way, we commend to the best attention of our readers. The principal personage of this gallant cavalcade, who rode in front, was a man of some fifty years of age. A moment's glance would have sufficed to convince the spectator that he was no common person. His frame was large and powerful, his bearing majestic, and his countenance noble; and he sate his horse as one who had been more accustomed to the thunder of the captains and the shouting, than to the idle sports of the field or the chase. Sir Gilbert Daundelyonne, for such' was his name, was accompanied on either hand by

a youth and a young lady, his son and daughter. There was nothing that may be termed noticeable in the person of the youth; but his eye must indeed have been dim, or his heart unimpressible, who could have looked unmoved upon the face of Bertha Daundelyonne.

It was not long after they had commenced the sport, when a tumult was heard from the adjacent town. Scenes of violence and uproar were not uncommon in that age, when municipal authorities, although they were strict to punish, were lax to restrain; but the times were critical, and the present hubbub seemed to engage the attention of the knight, but not sufficiently so to divert him from his pastime.

Dashing past the monastic building of Salmstone, the party presented a noble and stirring picture to the gazer's view. Suddenly, however, as Sir Gilbert Daundelyonne drew up party and reclaimed his hawk, after a successful flight, a heavily-armed horseman, clad in com

his

plete steel, appeared in the distance, upon the Canterbury road. The furious pace at which he rode proclaimed the import of his errand :

"He seemed in coming, to devour the way,"

and as he drew bridle before the party, and sat like a pillar of iron upon his reeking horse, he presented a sealed packet to the knight's hands. The radiant Bertha Daundelyonne meanwhile took the opportunity of exchanging a few words with the young esquire, a youth of about eighteen years of age, who sumptuously caparisoned in furred tunic and plumed cap, occupied his saddle as if it were his familiar seat.

The arrival of the armed horseman effectually spoiled the sport of the hawking party; and after perusal of the contents of the packet, the Knight of Daundelyonne hastily dismissed his attendants, and commending the stranger to the care and hospitality of his son and daughter, desired them instantly to return to his castle.

As the lady and her brother, accompanied by the messenger, moved off with their train, the knight beckoned his esquire to his side, and held brief converse with him on the subject of the letter he had received.

cr

Clinton," said he, "I find here that war is proclaimed, somewhat on the sudden, with France; nay, so tardy hath been the coming of all news to our island, that the King, with his power, has already set forth, and is advancing towards this part of the coast. My instructions meantime take me towards Dover with all the speed I can make, as the Cinque Ports must be looked to immediately, though we ourselves should lack men for our own towers. Make, therefore, good Clinton, for the town yonder without delay; draw together what retainers of our own you can readily collect, put them under charge of the good knight, Geoffrey de Lacy, and despatch them to Sandwich with all speed."

The young esquire, who cap in hand had listened to the instructions of the stately knight bending forward in his saddle, was about to