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THE LADY PILGRIM. 81 
a guess, I should say it was the young Duke 
of Devonshire — the same who aided in res¬ 
cuing my young mistress last summer, when 
she was thrown from her palfrey among the jut¬ 
ting rocks in that terrible chasm, over which the 
hounds leaped while in pursuit of the stag. It 
may not be the same, but it looks wondrously 
like him ! ” 
“ The Duke of Devonshire ! ” Pull my dress¬ 
ing gown around me, and then show him in,” 
said the old nobleman, animatedly. “ If it is 
the young Duke of Devonshire, he possesses claims 
upon the house of Lincoln which shall not long 
remain unacknowledged.” 
The Earl of Lincoln rose, while the young and 
handsome duke came forward, and bowed grace¬ 
fully in his presence. He retained his hunting 
cap in his hand, the heavy plume of which nearly 
swept the floor, and his raven hair fell in rich 
masses over a brow which would not have looked 
out of place beneath a crown. 
“ I throw myself upon your hospitality at an 
unusual hour,” he said, as he took the extended 
hand of the earl, and pressed it fervently and re¬ 
spectfully. “ I owe an apology, perhaps, for such 
an unceremonious intrusion ; but the morning was 
inviting, and I came forth early with a band of 
followers to the chase. The sight of your castle 
turrets arrested my attention, and, leaving my ex¬ 
pected train to follow a deer they had aroused, I 
