the lovely boy advanced in age he often dolefully inquired:—“Why, dear mama, do you cry?” But the countess wisely abstained from letting him know the cause of her secret sorrows, for, besides her husband, none knew what had become of the three young countesses. Many speculative persons pretended that they had eloped with errant knights—a circumstance at that time far from uncommon; others knew them to be hid in a nunnery; while others had seen them in the suite of the Queen of Burgundy or the Countess of Flanders. Yet at last Reginald obtained, by caressing, the secret from his mother. She narrated to him the adventures of the three sisters, with all the particulars, and not a single word of those miraculous stories was lost to his attentive mind. Henceforth he had no other desire than to become able to bear arms and go forth upon adventures, to discover his sisters in the enchanted forest, and to disenchant them. As soon as he was knighted, he asked his father’s leave to depart, as he pretended, upon an expedition into Flanders. The count was pleased to see the chivalrous spirit of his son, gave him horses and armour, squires, and men-at-arms, and, with a blessing, dispatched him, in spite of his mother’s objections. The joyous knight had scarcely
